Stand-up Nikki Glaser performs at the Fine Gentleman’s Club showcase as part of the third annual High Plains Comedy Festival on Aug. 21. (Photo by Emily Coates, provided by High Plains Comedy Festival)
stood outside Mutiny Information Cafe on South Broadway on Aug. 21, a microphone in her hand, headphones on her ears and a camera pointed at her face.
The Denver comic was performing as part of the High Plains Comedy Festival’s , an L.A. import from that asks the question, “What happens when a comedian doesn’t know how the audience is responding?” The audience inside Mutiny, which Lynch could neither see nor hear, and which was watching her on a projection screen, laughed and clapped at her jokes. A seasoned pro, Lynch continued tearing through material despite not being able to respond to the feedback.
The show offered a glimpse into the evolution of the from a small, DIY event to one that has partnered this year with regional powerhouse . Like Lynch, its organizers have enough experience to appreciate the fundamentals of live stand-up — its best practices, its limitations. But like “Purgatory,” they’re willing to subvert that in the name of gleeful experimentation.
In its third year, High Plains was still eager to please, still trying to prove its worth. It invited more than 70 local and national stand-ups on stage for a weekend of shows at Mutiny, 3 Kings Tavern, the Hi-Dive and Badger’s on South Broadway. A headlining show on Aug. 22 at the historic, 1,800-seat Paramount Theatre was an upgrade (which is currently under renovation, according to organizers). Otherwise it looked, sounded and felt much the same as Year 2.
That’s not a bad thing. High Plains is a comfortable fest, geographically compact, smartly booked and carefully scheduled. Its models — from Portland, Ore.’s Bridgetown Comedy Festival (which High Plains resembles in Bridgetown’s early years) and The Denver Post’s own Underground Music Showcase (itself modeled after South by Southwest in Austin, Texas) — maximize attendees’ time and energy. A typical High Plains night allows someone to see dozens of comics while still getting a little exercise and scenery changes. It’s a refreshing contrast to the often sweaty, deafening confines of a music festival, and one that plays up Denver’s status as one of the most exciting comedy towns in the country.
I saw a lot of great comedy over the weekend, but at the risk of leaving out some worthy performers, I’m just going to focus on a handful of my favorite shows and moments.
Denver stand-ups Anthony Crawford and Janae Burris chat in the basement of 3 Kings Tavern. (Photo provided by High Plains Comedy Festival)
Best Denver Burn
So many comics were falling over themselves to pander to Denver’s apparently stoned, Broncos-loving populace that it was refreshing to hear one taking emotionally-driven potshots at the Mile High City. The honor for the best one (that I heard, anyway) goes to Shane Torres, who tried to temper Denver boosters’ enthusiasm for its construction boom, Millenial influx, foodie scene, etc. with this gem: “There’s 10 more cities just like you!” he barked at 3 Kings Tavern, referring to the fact that everything happening in Denver right now already happened in Portland, Austin, etc. over a decade ago. “And it’s easier to breathe in ’em.”
Best Use of Pre-Recorded Audio
Ron Lynch (“Home Movies,” “Tom Goes to the Mayor”) proved why he’s such a respected name in L.A.’s comedy scene with his intentionally terrible non-magic tricks and a gut-churningly funny opening bit that made great use of a voice-changer box. But it was his improbably precise routine about the Disneyland of the future, which found him lip-syncing to pre-recorded jokes while acting like a Hall of Presidents-style animatron, that elicited the most laughs, and most awe from this reviewer.
Creepy lounge singer Bobby Valentino (Greg Baumhauer) relaxes at 3 Kings Tavern during the High Plains Comedy Festival. (Photo by JD Lopez, provided by High Plains Comedy Festival).
Best Use of Guitars, Irony
Friday’s “Music to our Guts” variety set, headlined by the brilliant Karen Kilgariff (“Mr. Show,” “Ellen”) and her musical-comedy partner Drennon Davis, was the true definition of a showcase. The comics differed wildly in tone, from Greg Baumhauer’s impressively committed Neil Hamburgeresque character Bobby Valentino (and his mute/deaf sidekick keyboard player, the Mexican F*** Machine) to Jay Gillespie’s breathless, manic drum-machine songs. Kilgariff and Davis wrapped it up nicely with their impressively honed duets, which saw Davis providing the music (via sampling pedals and concise beatboxing) and Kilgariff’s adding a legit element of musicality. No doubt many in the audience could relate to the pot-edibles song “You’re Gonna Be Fine,” which the duo
Most Exploratory Comic
Rory Scovel is the type of comic would could likely nail a conventional stand-up set in front of any audience, but at festivals and comedy-nerd events, he’s frequently in exploratory mode, letting crowd work, verbal goofs and seemingly whatever pops into his head steer the ship. His sets at the Hi-Dive (on Friday) and 3 Kings Tavern (on Saturday) certainly felt that way, whether he was repeatedly screaming “anal sex!” (which led into a practiced bit about how not engaging in it makes him feel like gentleman) or how psychedelic mushrooms ruined religion for him (“I’m not going to go to God’s house if he’s willing to come to mine”). It didn’t always work, but it showed why Scovel is so respected to by other comics, and why his willingness to try anything (particularly if it amuses him) makes each one of his sets genuinely different from the rest.
Best Burn About My Home State
She’s said it before, probably even at last year’s High Plains, but fellow Dayton, Ohio native Beth Stelling (performing in front of what looked like an Ohio-shaped logo at 3 Kings Tavern) reminded me why I live in Colorado: “A lot of people in Ohio don’t realize they can put all their things in a bad, and then leave.”
Best Riffing on a Currently Popular Movie
During what was billed as the last-ever recording for fest co-organizer Adam Cayton-Holland’s “My Dining Room Table” podcast, guests Sean Patton, Scovel, Andrew Orvedahl and Josh Androsky others were joking about the N.W.A. biopic “Straight Outta Compton,” to which Cayton-Holland added: “I bet those guys who played the cops in (the movie) were cool.” Cue raucous laughter, more riffs from his cohorts.
Best Overall Show
From its kinetic lineup to the performers’ near-flawless sets, the headlining show at the Paramount Theatre on Saturday night proved that High Plains can do big, broad shows. It helped that headliner Anthony Jeselnik likely drew much of the sold-out crowd, which was hotter (friendly, laughing, energetic, but overall not too drunk) than nearly any this critic has seen at a comedy festival. Denver’s Aaron Urist reinforced what a lot of locals already know, which is that his confident, if self-deprecating, bits are more than ready for big crowds. Host Brody Stevens and performer Kurt Braunohler elicited a few boos from the tipsy bros for bits that went on a bit long, but each performer was as cohesive as one could hope. And I stand by , Brody. Top-notch all around.
Best Overall Performer
As with all comedy fests, certain performers did the same material to different receptions; for various reasons, some were on during one show and off during another. But it’s the comics who fared well in every room or environment — like Matt Braunger, or Kristin Rand — that impressed me the most. Anthony Jeselnik flipped this on its head at High Plains, even if he only performed one official set. His headlining show at the Paramount constantly dared the audience to walk out or heckle him based on his intentionally offensive material, all the while molding their expectations and reactions in real time. It felt like a few different shows in one as he vacillated between commentary and prepared jokes. “I even tried to get them to introduce me as the third Columbine shooter,” he said to considerable groans. And later, “If that Columbine joke didn’t walk you, nothing will.” Nothing did. The crowd loved him, and Jeselnik loved the crowd enough to stay late, try new material and take questions from the audience. His confidence was often intoxicating, but his masochistic glee in carefully manhandling the audience was consistently thrilling.
Best Concept, Worst Practice
The festival closed with a showcase from hometown heroes The Grawlix (Cayton-Holland, Orvedahl and Ben Roy), who recently wrapped production on the first season of their Denver-set TruTV sitcom, — and who are arguably responsible for much of the enthusiasm and professionalism in Denver’s young, alt-leaning stand-up scene. Despite an often irritatingly drunk, noisy crowd, each comic at the “Super Finale” brought an impressive energy for the late-night crowd. Maybe a bit too much, as Roy spontaneously decided he wanted to bring all 300-something folks in the room onto the stage and parade them through the comic’s green room. It worked for about a dozen-plus people before it became clear that it would destroy all the night’s momentum, confuse anyone who hadn’t heard his joke and, frankly, just take far too long. Roy quickly recovered, however, with a bit about unwittingly masturbating in a hotel room to the sounds of domestic violence. If anyone thought he’d lost his edge working in L.A. over the past few months (something all the Grawlix members poked fun in the intro) that person does not know Ben Roy — or Denver’s edgy, hungry comedy scene in general.
