Introduction

Introduction Comedy, as a genre, defies categorization, strange as that may seem. A genre by its very nature defines a type and categorizes it, but through the centuries scholars, philosophers, and practitioners have attempted to classify and explain just what constitutes “comedy,” “the comic,” “humor,” and the simple “funny.” Always, though, some new variation emerges that challenges assumptions about comedy; for example, a romantic comedy may be a part of the genre, along with a parody of the same work: matter coexisting with antimatter , as it were. The essays contained in this volume illustrate well the range of material that falls under the heading “comedy” as it is played on the stage. Certainly taste—or the lack thereof—plays a part in shaping the comedy of any period or place and contributes ultimately to its shelf life in the canon. Some works by Aristophanes still seem stageworthy, while others of his comedies may not register with an audience of today because of lost allusions . . . but rarely because of solved social problems: greed, jealousy , pomposity, and all the other human failings will always be found on the stage, as well as in boardrooms, living rooms, and the “seats” of government. Tragedy, that most ponderous of genres, paradoxically acts on an audience ’s emotions, while comedy requires a rational interaction with the audience. Irony, paradox, incongruity, and juxtaposition—the building blocks of comedy—all require brain function in order to be appreciated, or even recognized. Several of this volume’s contributors have remarked in their essays that the surest way to kill a joke is to analyze it. It may be that because 6 I N T R O D U C T I O N analysis must first take place in order simply to get the joke, any later analysis becomes superfluous. The brain, as any elementary physiology student can tell you, is the processor of information gathered from the senses, and it seems fitting, therefore, that this volume celebrates in many ways the sixth sense . . . the sense of humor, processed along with taste, smell, sight, hearing, and touch by the human mind. Mind? No, I don’t mind at all. The very first Theatre Symposium was devoted to commedia dell’arte performance, so this year’s edition brings the subject full circle with a theme of comedy on stage, fittingly with a keynote essay by Stanley Vincent Longman, whose take on the commedia perfectly begins our exploration of the genre that Woody Allen has said eats at the children’s table . . . even in the world of scholarship. Longman’s “The Commedia dell’arte as the Quintessence of Comedy” introduces us to the inhabitants of “Commediatown,” descendants of the Greeks and ancestors, it seems, of almost everyone who came after. The comic DNA, not to mention the tricks and machinations of these familiar types, lives on— literally—everywhere human beings have built up “civilized” society. Boris Senker, an eyewitness to the changes in Croatia from the Communist regime through the democratization of the last twenty years, reports in “Creating New Comic Stereotypes on the Croatian Postwar/Transition Stage” on the all-too-real stereotypes that have inherited many of the commedia masks’ bad habits and have found their way onto the stage in his homeland. Trust that these types will not seem foreign at all. One of the qualities of commedia that has intrigued spectators throughout history has to be the improvisational quality of the comedy. Audiences no doubt enjoy the risk performers take in working in such an impromptu manner, and most of the characters (truth be told) are so caught up in a web of lies, they’re improvising themselves into deeper trouble at the same time. Patrick Bynane’s “A Method to the Madness: Laughter Research, Comedy Training, and Improv” offers a contemporary take on the craft of improvisation. Hearkening back to some of the earliest comic traditions made new again, Diana Calderazzo’s “Comedy Tonight . . . and Tomorrow: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum and Laughter through the Ages” examines the roots of laughter and the expectations inherent in presenting “old shtick” to a new generation . . . or a new millennium. Another classic laugh getter...