Wednesday, May 23, 2012

The Labor Theory of Comedy

(As this seems to be a series of ideas I'm continually coming back to, it might be worth noting that the following entry is pretty much the flip side to this one, and, perhaps, a logical extension of this one.)

Producing a show, depending on its scale, can be fairly labor-intensive: one of the first things my mime instructor said to me was "Every minute onstage is three hours of work." I've found the formula to be, if a bit pithy, about roughly correct for me. Every now and again I hear it suggested that it represents some great inequity (and some great iniquity, heh) that we aren't directly recompensed for that behind-the-scenes work (e.g. memorizing lines, writing press releases, etc.).

This suggestion is related to a concept Karl Marx championed (contrary to popular belief, he didn't create it), called "the labor theory of value." In its simplest expression (and with the caveat that I'm grossly simplifying an idea that's been taken to some pretty complicated extremes), it proposes that the value of a product is equivalent to the amount of labor that went into its construction. Like most of Marx's ideas, it's seductive because it just *feels* right, it *seems* just; and, like most of Marx's ideas, it falls apart after a cursory examination.

Take a chair, for example. (No, seriously, take one. This could be a while.) A skilled carpenter may produce a superior chair rapidly, while an unskilled one may take much longer. Should the unskilled carpenter then be paid more, for producing an inferior product?

(I've heard it proposed that the carpenter's training and experience should be calculated, as well, but that also sinks the theory, because training and experience do not always equal skill. I'm a much better writer now than I was a decade ago, but that's largely because I was remarkably bad. There *is* such a thing as natural talent, people who walk in off the street and pick up new skills quickly and easily. It galls me to state it, because I've really had to work at the skills I now possess, but I can't deny that I've seen it happen.)

See, but I grasp the seduction of the theory, because it's an idea I've struggled against for years. The thing is, the joke that I labored over, that I think is actually sort of clever and works on multiple levels, will always fall flatter than an eight-year-old Chinese prostitute, while the boring filler joke I wrote for a segue always hits.

(Sorry, I got nothing.)

It doesn't *feel* right, it doesn't *seem* just, but it's the reality of the stage, just as supply and demand is the reality of the marketplace.

The problem with the arts is that they're so fucking *inefficient*. Assuming 180 hours of labor for a one-hour show, and a $1,000 net profit (not including expenses!) wouldn't even clear minimum wage. (And a $1,000 profit is a pipe dream for most of us, who are struggling to stay in the black. A $10 profit is cause for a drink in celebration, and there goes your $10.) Which is why the single most sensible business decision for someone in show business may be to find a new profession.

2 comments:

Alex Stephenson said...

Phil, I just wanted to write and tell you that I always found your acting to be really remarkable and leagues above most of us at the Masque , and that was 15 years ago. I'm amazed you've stuck with performance this long, and am happy for you. I'm currently pursuing a business path that makes me very happy, but doesn't make me much financially. I'm sticking with it and I'm not afraid to live a life in the lower income brackets because my work really does make me happy and satisfied. I have a feeling you don't need a pep talk since you've already stuck it out this long. Just know that there are other people working their asses off for pocket change. I have a feeling you wouldn't trade your career decision for a high paying job that compromised your dreams. Perform til the day you die my friend.

phillip low said...

Hey there, Alex -- awesome to hear from you! And I'm glad to hear that you're stitching together your own day-to-day happiness. No pep talk needed -- I'm thrilled to be doing what I'm doing, and still frankly amazed that circumstances have aligned to let me keep doing it. Just observing that the financial reality is completely nuts.

In any case, thrilled to hear from you! I'll keep performing -- you keep doing whatever it is that's making you happy. Until it doesn't. Then switch to something else. And it's also amazingly awesome that we have the ability to do that, too.