It's the high season in Los Angeles. All along Hollywood Blvd, herds of out-of-towners can be spotted slowly migrating along the Walk of Fame, earning angry sunburns as they pose outside Grauman’s Chinese Theater or alongside part-time actors outfitted as Marvel heroes. For an extra tip, they’ll drape you across their arms a la Lois Lane.
These visitors come looking for a glimpse of the sparkle and inspiration of our entertainment industry. But in truth, it’s far from this famous intersection.
The Truth
The real glitter—and sweat—of Hollywood lies well beyond the flashing digital billboards at Hollywood and Highland. It’s scattered across greater LA in the form of hundreds of professional and community theater companies. From the gilded grand dames on Broadway in DTLA to shoebox-sized stages deep in the Valley, the only venture more common than Starbucks in LA is the theater.
Anyone who complains of having nothing to do in this town isn't looking hard enough.
I recently joined friends for a comedy show just off of Fairfax and across from the sprawling complex of CBS Studios. Fair to say, proximity was the only characteristic these sites shared.
Our theater was sparse on technology and heavy on grit. A stage no bigger than a card table blocked a corner of the room. Backstage doubled as the foyer. Comedians entered in off the street following the audience. If there was any glitter in this production, it was carried in on the wind.
But you never know what stunning upstart you might end up applauding. All the big names started somewhere. According to interviews, Chris Rock still practices his routine at small venues like this one. And not just once or twice. He’ll practice a set 40-50 times before taking it on the road.
No one’s an overnight success in comedy. Even those who’ve hosted the Oscars. Achievement is a journey.
Courage in Practice
As each comedian took the stage with burnished confidence and a stack of 3x5 cards as backup, it was easy to overlook the raw courage involved in their act.
You can practice your lines in front of a mirror. You can run them past your best friend. But the true test comes when you’re handed a microphone and the fleeting, finicky attention of strangers in a dimly lit room.
And we were finicky.
By the 6th comedian, our numbers had thinned. Rows of empty chairs marked where ticket holders had departed to find distraction elsewhere. But our 6th act stood out to me. Unlike earlier acts who used flamboyant props or wore outrageous garments to captivate--one comic alighted the stage in a cape--this young, reedy guy could've been a mathematics undergrad at UCLA. He looked more Gerald than Jerry (Seinfeld). Hunching awkwardly behind the mic, he took a sip from his water bottle and leaned in.
“Well, here we are.” He smiled almost apologetically, but cast a steely glance over the crowd.
“Whether I bomb or not, no one’s dying."
Then more empathically: "This is comedy. This is not life or death, people.”
Something in his delivery and the truth of that statement hit me with no less force than an asteroid careening through the roof and onto my lap.
Truth. And yet...
How many minutes a day do we spend contemplating actions instead of taking them?
How many times in a week do we hold back out of fear?
How much soft pedaling do we take to tiptoe around potential failure?
It's as if doing the scary thing—asking for a raise, chasing “the dream,” opening a business—could actually kill us. As if our worst-case-scenario was just ONE misstep away from imploding our lives.
It's simply not true.
How many of us waste precious moments contemplating “risky” actions as if anything less than a stellar outcome would result in serious harm?
Guilty. Absolutely.
What about you?
Here’s a brave soul, no more than 25, standing atop a temporary platform and sharing jokes he wrote. Jokes that might leave silence in their wake. Sweat beading on his brow. Uncomfortable. And he’s doing the thing anyway.
Flawed Thinking
Too often we confound feedback with failure. Misreading our awkwardness, the audience's blank stares, or weak applause as a clear indicator we should quit.
In reality, feedback is evidence. It gives us powerful clues about where we need to focus. Not give up. Grow.
Chris Rock doesn’t pack up his act and quit comedy when a joke fails to land. He notes it and then circles back. Refines it. Tries it again. What would spark a bigger laugh? Building in some physical comedy? Adding a longer pause?
Those who are most successful in achieving their dreams are those who keep stepping up. It’s a misnomer to think success comes from raw talent. In reality, success is built into a path of persistence underscored by courage.
How much could our lives change if we declared the truth and then leaned in and did the scary thing?
What book would you write?
What would you audition for?
What personal hero would you approach?
What investment would you make?
What dream would you honor?
What life change would you embrace?
True Champions
I wish I could report that our comedian brought down the house. Truth is, he was one of the worst in the lineup. His jokes barely inspired a guffaw.
Is he in the running to open for Chris Rock? Nope. Is he one routine closer to becoming the opener? Absolutely.
In my eyes, there was no greater hero in the theater that night.
That's the true inspiration that underscores Hollywood: The strivers who show up and under a meager spotlight, in front of an impatient crowd, give their all.
That's the valiant fighter Theodore Roosevelt honored in his famous quote.
What if we each did the same?
Called out the truth with confidence -- this isn't life or death -- and then did the scary thing.
How might our lives change? How might they grow better?