It's no joke: Open mic comedy takes root in Laconia

LACONIA — When Jon Bastille moved from Boston to Laconia two years ago, he decided to start an open mic comedy night at Defiant Records & Craft Beer, the bar on Main Street where his girlfriend had just gotten a job.

“I was doing open mics in Boston,” Bastille said, adding he was just hoping to create something that would allow him to continue performing through the winter of 2022 without requiring him to drive for an hour.

“I didn’t have any sense of it gaining traction, I just wanted to create a scene for comedians to do an open mic,” Bastille said. “I honestly didn’t think it would last more than a couple of months.”

Not only has it lasted, it’s grown considerably. The Defiant open mics are on Wednesdays at 6:30 p.m. The demand has  now expanded to the Whiskey Tavern, which has its own open mic, also on Wednesdays, starting at 8:15 p.m. Many performers go from one to the next, honing their jokes in between. Just his winter, the strength of those two open mics has inspired a third, at the High Octane Saloon, Sundays at 5 p.m.

“Some nights it’s really hot at Defiant, sometimes it’s hot at Whiskey Tavern,” Bastille said. Each venue has its own audience, which can create a different experience, even if the performers are the same. “That’s kind of the fun of it,” he said.

The open mic scene started out with people like Bastille, locals who wanted to try out their material but couldn’t or didn’t want to drive to Manchester or Boston for a few minutes of stage time. Then it started to grow, and audience members who showed up just to watch decided to try it out themselves. Some from the Manchester scene have even made the drive to see how their jokes fare in front of a fresh crowd.

Once in a while, a promoter will visit to see if there are any up-and-comers who might be able to carry 10 minutes as an opening act. That can happen from time to time, Bastille said, but it’s not what’s motivating most of the performers.

“Honestly, I think it’s more therapeutic than anything else. Once you’ve tried it, you get that itch and you want to keep doing it,” he said. “There’s no real rules besides don’t be a dick and ... and that’s pretty much it.”

The regulars

Ed Marsh, an 83-year-old Belmont resident, said he’s been performing comedy in one way or another for most of his life. “I was the class clown in school, I sold newspapers on the street corners in Boston,” and he used schtick to develop a clientele. He became the in-barracks entertainment during a 25-year career with the U.S. Army, reserves and National Guard.

Marsh, a prolific writer, has stacks of notebooks full of jokes, and said he often pulls out one at random to mine for material at each open mic.

“The standup comedians today at the open mics, for the most part, we aren’t looking for fame and fortune. We are looking to make people laugh and tell stories,” he said. “I enjoy doing it, and I like the fact that people enjoy what I do.” He worked as a contractor for many years, and he said a round of laughter feels the same as a happy client after the project’s complete.

“My whole life is written down. I just enjoy sharing it — and probably boring some people,” Marsh said.

Ed Cartier, who lives in Northfield, said he used to be a “poet and a drunk.” Since he’s quit drinking, comedy has allowed him to engage with a nightlife again, and open mics, he said, are like “instant publishing.” He can write something on the spot, share it with an audience and get a reaction.

“As a sober guy, 10% of life is what happens to you, and 90% is how you deal with it,” Cartier said. By turning adversity into comedy, he said he can take some of the the power away from his problems or past trauma, all while providing some benefit to the world around him.

“From an altruistic point of view, if people are laughing then they’re not in pain.” Comedy, he said, “is like a living art form.”

Some of the regular performers got their taste of the open mics as audience members, and that’s the case for Melissa Perrault, who works in real estate in her day job.

“I went there to watch, just as something cool to do,” she said. “I ended up performing ... I’ve always wanted to try standup but never really had an opportunity to give it a try.”

She said she found the environment to be welcoming, “you just sign up and they let you do it.”

She doesn’t go every night, but she said makes it out about once per month. “I go when I can,” she said.

Perrault said she doesn’t really tell conventional jokes, just talks about her own life — as a Realtor, as a mom, as what she called a “cougar” married to a younger man — in a comedic way.

“I think it’s a good outlet to laugh and to make other people laugh, it’s a good feeling,” she said, and it gives adults a chance to get to know other people in a supportive environment.

“I think some people are looking for an outlet to say some things that they normally wouldn’t say, and if you’re up there saying comedy, it’s OK to say the things that you normally wouldn’t say. It’s kind of like an invisibility cloak.”

John Moscarito drives up from Manchester to perform in Laconia, where he said there’s usually a good crowd. In other venues, it sometimes seems that the only people in the audience are other comics waiting for their chance to perform.

“It’s nice to know if your jokes work for regular people,” Moscarito said.

If a performer’s jokes don’t always hit, Moscarito said audience members should understand that’s part of the process. Many comedians, including professionals, will use open mics to work out new material, or workshop old jokes, to see what works and what doesn’t.

“At an open mic, the goal of it is to test the merit of your ideas to people who might not respond to it. You’re engaging with people who might not like your ideas, and that’s the fun of it.”

Always room for more

One of the hosts of the open mics, Nathaniel Allen, had experience performing in Boston and Austin before he joined the Laconia scene.

Locally, the open mic scene is supportive and welcoming to newcomers, he said — though there’s the added discomfort of performing as part of your own community, where he said his mother is often in the audience.

“It can be a little uncomfortable, but getting over that discomfort is helpful,” Allen said. “In Laconia, there’s an ability to get comfortable with yourself on stage. ... From there, it’s just writing as much material as you can, it’s a good starting ground.”

Open mics offer the same kind of opportunity as going to the gym, or going to therapy, Allen said, in that people get out of it as much as they want to put into it. Some people just want to tell jokes to a room full of people, while others, like himself, like to push themselves to talk about the subjects that make them most uncomfortable, which he said can help the performer in the long term, while making good comedy in the moment.

Bastille originally didn’t know if the market could sustain a single open mic night; now there’s three of them. Is this sustainable, or a comedy bubble? Allen said he couldn't say for sure.

“I hope it grows as much as possible. More opportunity means more funny people. More funny people means more competition, which means that I’ve got to be funnier,” Allen said, noting the community of regular performers has also sprouted many friendships.

“It could come and go, it could stay for a while, but as it is right now we have a great group of funny people,” Allen said. He invited anyone interested in joining to connect with him on Instagram @nathanielallencomedy.

Bastille said that he doesn’t see the local scene going away anytime soon.

“I think comedy’s having a big resurgence now,” Bastille said. “Once there’s a scene, and a core group of comedians there every week, I don’t think they’re going to let it go.”