We live in a time when stand-up comedy has never been bigger but is also on life support. If you’re Jim Gaffigan or Jerry Seinfeld or Amy Schumer or Kevin Hart, you can fill huge arenas, and your filmed stand-up specials on Netflix or HBO will net you millions of dollars. But if you’re one of those road warriors who scrapes out a living as the middle act at Carolines on Broadway, Mark Ridley’s Comedy Castle in Royal Oak, Michigan, the Punchline in Sandy Springs, Georgia, and Zanies in Chicago, it’s a grind at best.
The glory days of the 1980s and 1990s, when it seemed like there was a comedy club on every corner and every semi-recognizable name was getting a book deal and a sitcom, are long gone.
