In comedy, a few minutes on stage takes months of work.
"Trimming the fat" from one's set, as comedian Charles Hall Jr. says, involves trial and error, studying crowd reactions to determine when a joke is at its best.
For comedians both new and seasoned, open mics are the perfect place to cut that fat. And for comedians in the Inland Northwest, the Spokane Comedy Club hosts two open mics every week: New Talent Tuesday and Open Mic Night on Wednesdays.
General manager Brit Ducommun says open mic nights have been a Spokane Comedy Club staple since the very beginning, when the club opened in 2016. Ducommun creates the lineups for each open mic, likening the scheduling process to the oft-memed It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia scene in which actor Charlie Day is in a mailroom surrounded by a complex web of paper taped to the wall.
"Sign-ups are so high that it's crazy trying to get everyone on, but I definitely get everyone on," she says.
Even if comics aren't selected for a particular open mic, Ducommun suggests they still come to watch other performers, get advice and put their name in the "Lucky Bucket." Three Lucky Bucket comics are added to the lineup before the show starts. The host, closer and lineup changes each week, so audience members enjoy a new show every time.
At a recent open mic, about 60 people settle in for a night of local comedy. Host Sophie Thomi warms up the crowd with jokes about how she has resting psychopath face, not resting bitch face, because she smiles all the time.
Other comedians talk about pickleball, the Inland Northwest and why you shouldn't trust a bidet to actually get you clean.
The crowd is well-behaved, save for a man who didn't necessarily heckle, but responds to jokes from the first couple comedians until a staff member intervenes. The whole evening feels seamless, with Thomi keeping things running smoothly and comics respecting time limits.
Hall shares jokes about finding out he can sunburn — "Jesus, you need to do a recall on Black people" — his experience as a father, and being called Black Panther by a child in Idaho.
Hall's been a comedian since 2019, when he was inspired to get on stage after seeing Kevin Hart perform in Portland.
"I was like, 'Let me just say I did it,'" he says. "But then I did pretty well and they kept inviting me back, and then one thing led to another."
At those early performances at the Capitol City Theater (now the Infinity Room) in Salem, and later in Seattle, Hall focused his set on his children and his parents. During a two-and-a-half hour work commute, Hall tuned into Sirius XM radio, listening to as many comedians as he could.
"I was like a sponge, and I was absorbing all these different variations of comedy and learned it's a huge spectrum," he says. "There's clean comedy and dirty comedy, satire, one-liners. I really used that as a stepping stone to find my own style and how to structure a joke."
Hall tries to write more generally so he can tell the same jokes in different cities. He usually runs jokes at open mics a few times before adding them to his set.
"Reading the room and understanding your demographic is a huge thing," he says.
After moving to Spokane in late 2020, Hall went to an open mic at Spokane Comedy Club. He did so well that he was asked to open for six shows at the club.
Ducommun says that could happen to any open mic performer, as club staff watch open mics to decide if comics are ready to host, open or feature for the touring comedians who perform at the club. If the comic is willing to travel, they might perform at one of Spokane Comedy Club's sister venues around the country, too.
Hall estimates he's hosted as many as 50 shows at the club and has been a featured comic up to 30 times, in addition to a few headlining performances. He also opened for Hasan Minhaj last year at Beasley Coliseum in Pullman.
In a truly full-circle moment, Hall gets to open for Hart, who's headlining the Great Outdoors Comedy Festival on Aug. 25 at ONE Spokane Stadium. Hall feels honored to be selected to do something so big for the city and sees the performance as another step toward his dream of becoming a full-time comedian. He's still working on his festival set and will surely workshop a few jokes at open mics before then.
"Comedy itself is an art form," he says. "It's no different than 'Go draw a picture' or 'Go write down a poem.' It's the creativity aspect of it. When you're on stage at an open mic, you literally have four minutes to be as creative as you want... Every community needs a place where artists, people of all backgrounds can come together in a space and tell their experiences... I'm pretty thankful Spokane has a good spot." ♦