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Fast Forward July 24-30 Vol 8 No33. COMEDY by Stephen W. Smith No laughing matter Veteran comic finds little humour in business of stand-up Cutline: Edgy, topical style overflowing with manic energy – Tim Lowing rants about problems with government, the state of the world, and the nasty business of comedy "It was like it needed to happen. It was a good kick in the ass." That’s how Vancouver comic Tim Lowing describes his not-so-positive Funny Fest experience this past June in Calgary. Not too long into the festival, Lowing confesses that he felt it was everything he had walked away from last year when he went out on his own. He contends that after being lured to the festival by the pleas of a friend, he soon encountered the sort of broken promises and inequities that he feels plague this nation’s comedy industry. Lowing’s disillusionment with the Canadian comedy scene has been building for a long time, prompting him to take the unusual step of going without an agent and handling virtually every aspect of his comedy career on his own. His upcoming performance in Calgary is a deal he struck himself while in town for Funny Fest. For a guy who’s only 26 years old, Lowing has already racked up a huge number of performances, mostly due the fact that he started performing at just 16. "I started in Winnipeg in 1994," he says. "I got a job by fluke, checking coats at the local club. Next thing you know I was onstage." During almost a decade in the comedy biz, Lowing has developed an edgy, topical style overflowing with manic energy. Onstage, he rants about problems with government and the state of the world with the sort of everyman honesty and passion you get from co-workers over after-work beers on a Friday night. Offstage, however, the number one target of his venom is definitely the mainstream comedy world, which he calls "a very insecure and incestuous little business." "Coming to Vancouver really taught me that," says Lowing, who moved there in 1998. "I can’t tell you the number of showcases I have not been included in because I don’t fucking hang out (with other comedians)." He adds that the experience opened his eyes to who he was really dealing with and how little they were really going to do for him. "This is definitely a me-first business. There’s like this nepotism and careerism where someone is always willing to take a run at you to get a gig. What we’re talking about is really 50 bucks at the end of the day." "Fifty bucks" refers to the sort of difference in pay one comedian may get over another by landing a superior or headlining spot in a comedy showcase. As a result of his disillusionment, Lowing has gone absolutely independent – a decision he says was due in no small part to problems he has encountered with agents. He left Yuk Yuk’s last September because he felt they had failed to handle a show in Whistler properly, ending a long association with the comedy club chain headquartered in Calgary that had featured him as a headliner in markets all over the country many times over. Now Lowing is the sole proprietor and employee of BML Productions, which handles all his showbiz dealings. He has big aspirations for his fledgling enterprise, including the promotion of a documentary film he is now shooting about his going-it-alone adventures. Even with all his complaints about the business of comedy, Lowing doesn’t envision packing in his stand-up career anytime soon. "Years from now, I hope that I am still doing stand-up and performing live," he confesses. "I really get up for it." If Lowing is indeed doing comedy many years from now it’s almost a sure bet he will only be doing it on his own terms. Tim Lowing performs live at 8 p.m. on Saturday, July 26 at the Engineered Air Theatre. |
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Comedy act grows up by Lisa Wilton Tim Lowing has always had something to say about the world we live in. Unfortunately, no one wanted to hear about it when he was 16. TIM LOWING “I can’t tell you how many times I got kicked out of history class because I questioned it too much,” says the Vancouver-based comic and self-proclaimed social critic, who performs July 26 at the Engineered Air Theatre. Even though the teenaged Lowing believed he had something intelligent to contribute to stand-up comedy, he was forced to write what he considered standard material until he could be taken more seriously. “No one wanted to hear me talk about Brian Mulroney when I was 16,” he recalls. “I formulated a show to get me by until I was about 21 and could grow hair on my face. I knew they were dumb jokes, but I knew I had to do them.” For the next nine years, Lowing toured the comedy club circuit, playing some of “the worst places you can imagine.” But last year, the 26-year-old Winnipeg native gave up the grind of touring to focus on soft-seat theatre shows such as the July 26 performance. “I couldn’t see anything else for me to do (in the stand-up scene),” says Lowing, who turned to comedy after the suicide of his brother. “Stand-up is my passion, but I don’t feel the club scene is passionate about it. They don’t respect it. Every second show is a battle of some sort. You’re continually having to prove yourself to an audience and to club management.” |
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Monday Magazine Issue 35 Vol 27, August 30 - September 5, 2001 **** (4stars) The Seventh Year Comedic monologue. 60 minutes Well-written mostly spoken essay, partly stand-up comedy. Tim Lowing speaks of being an underage stand-up comic in Winnipeg, takes reality TV to task, and looks hard at life and death. What works: Engaging narrative flow, plain words about current events, solid delivery. What doesn’t: Small audience seemed worried at first that the confident Lowing wouldn’t like us. Fringiest moment: Lowing overhears audience member whispering 15 minutes in and makes her confess to asking her partner “Is this the show?” Everything else: Comedy for readers, not TV watchers. Lowing savvily tunes in and tunes up the audience--it’s not that he is funny, but he shows that life is funny. RT |