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This is Rick, says comedian Jessica Zepeda, holding up a plastic tree.

Rick is a cheap Christmas decoration that has been repurposed as a sort of talking animatronic puppet that Zepeda liked to use in some of their pre-pandemic shows. In seconds theyre giving a dissertation on how puppets should behave.

I dont think they should cuss, says Zepeda. But I love cussing. But I like puppets to be pure.

Ten minutes later Zepeda has swapped Rick, a swear-free but self-deprecating tree, for a pair of books detailing the benefits of communal governance. Their ultimate goal? To build a better comedy scene.

More than a year and a half into the pandemic, weve come to expect the unexpected. Perhaps the socialist revolution can start in an improv community?

Enter the Comedy Co-op, a planned theater in the works by more than 30 local comedians.

Jessica JZ Zepeda.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

Its radical, says Zepeda, who once ran a diversity show at Upright Citizens Brigade and has become one of the new groups largest proponents of sociocracy, which utilizes a series of committees to diffuse a hierarchal set-up.

It is asking comedians to do something that we have never traditionally done, which is think beyond yourselves.

And its speaking to a charged political moment of social reckoning, when institutions large and small are being re-evaluated on their diversity, equity and workplace harassment policies.

Born out of the pandemic, when a number of prominent theaters were singled out for a lack of diversity and spiraled into financial insecurity, the Comedy Co-op is an acknowledgment that improv and stand-up constitute a low-margin world serving those with the flexibility to spend thousands of dollars on classes. Participants also say the co-op fills a long-overdue need in shifting a robust community away from brand-name theaters like Upright Citizens Brigade, the Second City, iO and Groundlings into one that is owned and governed by the community.

If comedy theaters arent a path to getting rich or famous, perhaps one can show the Los Angeles performance world that theres power in socialism? Its a model based less on propping up local celebs and more about supporting a theater because of its perceived morals and ethics.

James Mastraieni was the initial organizer of the Comedy Co-op. There are now more than 40 members.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

During the pandemic, I had a lot of time to engage with my socialist sensibilities, says actor-comedian James Mastraieni, who kickstarted the Comedy Co-op, where everyone who works or performs is a part-owner.

I sent an email to about 150 comedians Ive known over the years, and explained what this is. I said, If this existed, could you see yourself supporting it? At the time I was in this headspace of wondering if I was the only one feeling really insecure about my place in a community Ive been in for so long. It was cathartic to get responses back, and that was my motivation to dig deeper.

Part of it.

In the wake of nationwide George Floyd protests against police brutality and systemic racism combined with pandemic fears, practically no industry, including comedy, was spared from having its shortcomings on matters of diversity aired in public. A number of local stages were downsized before the pandemic, including geek culture hub Meltdown and iO West.

In July of last year, more than a dozen local comics told The Times that Los Angeles stages were plagued with problems of institutionalized racism, driven by a white-led power structure that marginalized diverse voices. Grievances on social media and petitions were sent to theaters such as Groundlings, Upright Citizens Brigade and Chicagos now-shuttered iO.

Comedy Co-op is a new endeavor formed by a group of local improvisers in the wake of numerous L.A. clubs floundering or shutting down during the pandemic. From right: Paige Elson, Nicole Pasquale, Jessica JZ Zepeda, PJ McCormick, Leonard Smith Jr., James Mastraieni and Dave Theune.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

Things got bleak.

Upright Citizens Brigade, which began in Chicago before expanding to New York and eventually becoming the nexus of the L.A. scene, is down to just one stage after shutting its East Coast spaces. Those once credited for creating modern improv were questioned over the kind of scene they created, or if it even existed anymore.

While UCB has pledged to work closely with the community as it re-imagines itself as a leaner nonprofit, iO co-founder and comedy matriarch Charna Halpern said the same before confessing that the Chicago institution was money-less and she would be forced to find a buyer.

For the record:

An earlier version of this story referred to Ruha Taslimi as an actress. The performer is non-binary and uses the pronouns they/them.

Did I just invest over a decade in a place thats not coming back? says performer and co-op member Ruha Taslimi of the sensation of watching theaters contract and close during the pandemic. But out of a sense of abandonment came a realization: Ones identity isnt tied to a business. Or, as Taslimi says, No. That investment was in myself.

Veteran writer-performer Alex Fernie says those involved in the co-op feel a recommitment to the comedy scene.

This is not just people showing up for the fun part. This is people working to ensure that theres a long-term viability for this, he says.

And if they can fight the power of capitalistic structures along the way, great.

It feels very in line with the political uproar thats happened, actress and comedian Paige Elson says. Theres socialists now. Anti-hierarchy, capitalism. Thats kind of cool. I was like, Yeah, that sounds good to me.

Paige Elson

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

These days, an interview with Mastraieni is just as likely to discuss comedy theory as it is political postulation.

As hes been doing the interview rounds, hes met those who dont believe a membership-based, socialist-inspired method is possible. I had expressed that I was a socialist, says Mastraieni of a recent interview, and they were like, Will you have a committee for censorship and canceling comedians? What? No. Theres a misinformed idea that when people hear socialist or worker cooperative they think censorship.

But the Comedy Co-op even has a plan for that.

Whats important to me is to be solution-orientated, Zepeda says. If someone [screws] up on stage, were not going to kick them out. Theres going to be accountability. We tell people to act better, and give them no tools. We need to have sensitivity training.

The Comedy Co-op wants the community to know that if it wont always have the answers, its working its way through the questions. Membership tiers are being drawn by a 30-plus steering committee currently broken up into intimate groups of four to seven to focus on branches of running a cooperative business. Multiple people are in multiple committees, creating communal links to ensure hopefully no decision is made in a vacuum.

Leonard Smith Jr.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

Two benefit shows one stand-up and one improv at nonprofit Glendale performance space Junior High have been set for Oct. 3. The improv gig, which will be live-streamed, has already sold out.

A crowdfunding campaign on Indiegogo will launch soon afterward, with the long-term goal of establishing a new L.A.-area theater. In the meantime, the do-it-yourself ethos of the Comedy Co-op has thrust a lot of improvisers into unsuspecting roles.

I was at one of the early meetings, and James asked what 2% of $2,000 was and I threw the number out, says actor and comedian Artoun Nazareth. Oh, its $40. Hes like, God, youre good with numbers. You should be on the money committee.

So I ended up there. Ive done a ton of research into tax law, and learned what the difference is between an LLC and a cooperative corporation, Nazareth continues. I didnt know any of that was coming my way.

But if the group is hopeful, its not delusional.

Were hoping to make enough to pay the performers and keep the lights on, and thats it, says Nazareth, adding all forms of alternate income will be looked at, from grants to finding a venue that could double as a filming location or allow alcohol sales.

And then, of course, theres just the nature of any community with egos equally big and fragile.

So many problems at so many places Ive been involved with have stemmed from people not knowing whats going on, Fernie says. Its always going to be personal if a show doesnt work or if a show gets ended because we put ourselves into them. But its worse when theres mystery.

On the money side, we want to be open. Heres whats coming in. You can see if were in trouble this month. I believe that transparency crosses off a lot of problems, Fernie says.

That mind-set, says Zepeda, is among the groups core mission statements.

Anyone can complain, says Zepeda. Not everyone can problem-solve. Thats what sets us apart. I understand hesitancy. I hear it. But what other option is there? All the systems around us we have watched crumble and fall to the ground. We should be excited by what if?

Everyone involved in the Comedy Co-op stressed that they want to see the likes of UCB return as better-run organizations.

Its like your family, Elson says. You love them. And sometimes you hate them. But it brought us together.

If anything, the pandemic heightened generational discussions and concerns that were already bubbling under the surface.

At some point Second City was the rebellion, says actor and comedian David Theune. And then maybe iO becomes the rebellion to Second City. At some point, the rebellion becomes the king and theyve got to get taken down in some ways. Thats the way it goes.

David Theune

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

Grievances with the established system arent hard to come by. Just prior to the pandemic, PJ McCormick landed a spot on one of UCBs coveted Harold teams. McCormick, who once dreamed of being a pro wrestler, says the predominantly white L.A. comedy scene didnt make his journey easy.

You dont want to be judged purely based on your stereotype of, you know, of your culture or your ethnicity, says McCormick, who is half-Filipino and half-British. So what tends to happen, as a diverse performer, you look up [at an audition panel], you see all the white faces, and you feel like, Well, Im not comfortable bringing my experience as a Filipino person to this stage, because they may not understand the references. And then you are not being authentic to yourself, and youre probably going to ruin your audition.

PJ McCormick

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

Such issues, Elson says, are a microcosm of the entire entertainment industry, but co-op members say theyre optimistic because diversity is ingrained into its mission statement. Zepeda, for instance, expresses pride when discussing the diversity showcase that they produced at UCB, but acknowledges there was awkwardness about it being segregated.

It was always conflicting in our head, but then when we got to the green room with only Black, Indigenous and people of color performers, it was like, Holy s, weve never been in this space, Zepeda says. So there is that wrestling, that tokenization, but also the necessity to fight to create a space where you can be yourself. We acknowledged it wasnt perfect, and my mentality is that reforms are not possible in systems built on capitalism and white supremacy.

Another concern: ensuring comedians get paid for their work. The Comedy Co-op hopes to allow performers to set their own ticket prices and take a percentage of the door. While no one has the misconceptions that such monies will cover rent or even a burger members want to erase the idea that appearing on a stage is payment enough.

The Comedy Co-op, however, will forgo a key money-making initiative of other theaters: no training academy. Part of that is simply an acknowledgment that theres a number of quality improv classes offered throughout L.A. by theaters and individual performers.

But part of that is existential.

What you find funny is what you find funny and you cannot be wrong, Fernie says. We want to be a place for you to pursue what you find funny. We dont want to teach you what is funny. We want to go out of our way to reach out to schools and communities where people dont feel welcome to check out shows.

From left: Nicole Pasquale, Dave Theune, Paige Elson, Leonard Smith Jr., James Mastraieni, Jessica JZ Zepeda and PJ McCormick.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

Building a better comedy scene isnt easy, regardless of the performers idealism.

What Ive known is that every single improv venue that Ive ever been a part of, Ive seen the same problems, says Theune, citing money struggles and fights for stage time. But when James had this idea, it was different. Weve tried it these ways and some have been unbelievably successful but lets try it a different way.

And sure, at the end of the day its just comedy, but its worth stressing that the power to laugh with others is important, no matter how weird the show.

Nicole Pasquale, for instance, dreams of an early-morning performance of improvised synchronized dancing. Its just a fun hour, Pasquale says. Thats all I want to do. I want a room for silliness.

Nicole Pasquale

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

Leonard Smith Jr. cant help but to launch into a bit of his stand-up during a phone call, even trying out some new jokes he wrote during the pandemic. And while hes very much into the ideals of the Comedy Co-op he admits he made some remarks in his ultimately rejected application for a diversity scholarship at UCB his work is far from politically minded (I talk about butts and sex, he says).

For Smith, the co-op has been eye-opening in breaking down barriers. You find your circle. You find your clique and you navigate that area, but here theres a lot of faces I had seen but never talked to, Smith says.

The co-op has been a lifeline for actor and co-op member Taslimi, who is immunocompromised and is not yet able to return to performing.

Its cheesy to say this, says Taslimi. Ive done a lot of therapy, but some of my best therapy happens in this work. Being fearless, and trusting your voice, and supporting other people makes you a better person. It gives you a new relationship to your brain.

These are among the ideals leading the co-ops members to believe that a worker-run space is the way forward. Will it be perfect? Nope. But will it work?

I dont see this failing, Zepeda says. Im full of self-doubt, but not with this. I see that people are working really hard, and I see everyone having to look at themselves in a different way. Thats what the past two years have been sitting and looking at yourself. Unfortunately, it took us being robbed of our stages to value them and understand that there can be a better stage.

Zepeda stops, takes a breath and sighs. Its going to work.

Originally posted here:
Is socialism the key to fixing the world of improv? This L.A. group thinks so - Los Angeles Times