CHICAGO — Stand-up comedy has not always been part of the entertainment landscape and to prove that point, I give you this story.
One late afternoon in 1978, Rick Uchwat picked up the telephone at Zanies, the new club he recently opened on Wells Street in Old Town.
“Hello, this is Zanies,” said Uchwat.
“Yes. What sort of comedy do you have?” asked the caller.
“It’s stand-up comedy,” said Uchwat.
There is a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, the caller said, “You mean ... you mean you don’t have any chairs?”
Such were the early days of the stand-up comedy scene in Chicago. But within a few years, a boom was on with all its ups and downs, the funny and ridiculous. That is the focus of a fine 90-minute feature documentary, “Out of the Loop,” which began streaming on Apple TV+ and other platforms earlier this week.
This was my beat for a few years, so I am familiar with much of the territory covered and many of the people interviewed.
As one of the comics says in the film, “Me going to Chicago was like going to Oz,” and for a time it was. By the mid-1980s, comedy had become the hot nightlife commodity. Several well-known clubs started franchising: Catch a Rising Star and The Improv opened in Chicago. Uchwat would open suburban Zanies locations in St. Charles and Vernon Hills and one in Nashville, Tennessee.
“At one point there were 17 full-time comedy clubs here,” according to the film. It sure seemed like more as other places started making room for comedy. It was being performed in blues bars, jazz clubs, bowling alleys and other odd venues.
Tom Dreesen, born and raised in suburban Harvey, is a veteran of the scene. He takes us back to the awkward time he and Tim Reid were the only interracial comedy team on the scene, in the nation.
That is one of the prominent themes of the film, as it examines how the comedy scene reflected the polarization and segregation of the city. Most of the comics interviewed discuss the racial divide in the city’s comedy clubs, the North and South Side of it all. They talk of the delicate (and sometimes not so delicate) differences between playing to a white crowd versus performing in front of a Black audience. I wish there had been more from Raymond Lambert, who ran All Jokes Aside, a comedy club that helped launch the careers of such future stars as Jamie Foxx, Dave Chappelle and Steve Harvey. (If you want more, you can read Lambert’s terrific book titled, appropriately, “All Jokes Aside”)
Though this may seem a weighty topic, most of the anecdotes and memories are enlightening and often hilarious. And stories from such people as Jeff Garlin, Larry Reeb, Tim Cavanagh, Marsha Warfield and a couple dozen more comics are valuable. You also hear from comic Erica Clark, who is the daughter of Mr. T.
The film is the work of many people, most prominently executive producer and director Michael Alexander, with the considerable aid of comic/actor Dwayne Kennedy, whose voice, stories and feelings are highlights of the film.
Uchwat is gone, having died too young at 64 in 2011. But Zanies remains and is one of the “stars” of the film. It is deserving of its lofty status as the most successful comedy club in the city and the third-oldest continuously operating comedy club in the country. “Playing Zanies those first times in the ‘70s, it was like playing The Cavern Club in Liverpool,” Jay Leno once told me, referring to the legendary basement club where The Beatles first burst on the scene in 1962.
Bert Haas, who began working at Zanies as a server in 1980 and recently retired after more than a decade as its executive vice president, is one of the most knowledgeable and enlightening voices in the film. He has seen it all and is especially convincing when he says, “There are a million funny women.”
This film has been in the works for some five years and as a result, we see people who have died during that time. It’s a treat to hear from Judy Tenuta, the brilliantly bawdy self-proclaimed “Love Goddess.” Happy memories are evoked.
The film does not offer much about the problems caused by the pandemic or the new political correctness that is shadowing every performer. Perhaps a follow-up will come.
One person not interviewed is the now major star Bob Odenkirk, (best known now as a serious actor in “Better Call Saul” and “Lucky Hank,” currently running on AMC). His voice on an answering machine begins the film, as he gently explains why he will be unable to participate. He was not a star on the local stand-up scene but rather an alumnus of The Second City, which does not get much screen time beyond being referred to as “The Big Bang of Comedy.”
The current state of stand-up is in flux. There are still some grand talents out there, if the crowds have yet to return. Perhaps this film will spark renewed interest. At least you’ll get a few laughs with the history and sociology.
Local success Garlin is particularly lively about the not-so-good-old-days. He does fondly say, “Rick Uchwat was like a second father to me,” and then tells of a performance for such an inattentive crowd that he was compelled to try for a laugh by smashing a birthday cake onto his face and announcing, “Hi. I’m Cakey.”
Ah, comedy.
———
