Amateur Comedy Contest Winner: Ian Karmel

• Winner Ian Karmel

After 26 shows in one month the Portland Amateur Comedy Contest played out more like Thunderdome. Some 50-odd comedians entered, twenty-two were accepted and only one emerged. And who was it? Drum roll please…

First prize: Ian Karmel
Second: Tim Hammer
Third: Anthony Lopez
Fourth: Cody Smith
Fifth: Sean Jordan

Festival co-organizer Lonnie Bruhn won the competition in 1991 and used the momentum to kickstart his own career. Nearly two decades later it’s still going strong. One of Bruhn’s goals coming in was to help the young talents feel what’s it like to be a touring comic.

“Doing six shows a week for an entire month really changes your act completely,” Bruhn explained. “The confidence level that these guys have at the end of this contest, and how much they’ve improved, it’s really refined.”

As for Karmel, Bruhn is encouraging the 25-year-old to take the next step. “I think if he wanted to go professional and go on the road he could do it,” Bruhn said. “He’s very likable. In every room I’ve seen him in I’ve never seen him have a bad show. He had shows that aren’t as good as others, but he never bombed.”

I’ve got a profile coming on Karmel in Thursday’s print edition, and a gigantic rambling recap after the jump, plus video of Karmel, and third place runner up Anthony Lopez.

Contest rules and background.

A brief disclaimer: partly due to the poor production values, this video does not do Ian Karmel justice. It does, however, offer a glimpse at his mechanics and sensibilities.

I’m not at all surprised Karmel took first place. From the first time I saw him the contest felt like his to lose. He has a big, clear, booming voice, an engaging presence, plus a control and confidence on stage that felt a little more pro than amateur. Part of that comes from years of studying improv.

The only thing Karmel lost points on, Bruhn said, was going over the allotted time. But when I saw him, it seemed like he was giving audiences what they wanted.

Karmel’s classic style and broader material helped him through Gresham, which derailed a number of Portland-centric comedians. A scheduling snafu produced three shows each week in Portland and three in Gresham (one more than anticipated). It changed the nature of the competition somewhat. Some of the comedians began referring to it somewhat derisively as the Gresham Amateur Comedy Contest.

Performing east of 182nd knocked the life out of Mikey Kampmann, one of the hosts of the montly showcase, Comedy Is Ok. Kampmann’s troubles in Gresham weren’t especially surprising, as his routine features jokes about kale. The audience response got him to stray from his material. As he explained to me via email:

So I got on stage and introduced my character “The Biggest Redneck Woody Allen Fan” (including fake mustache) and then told a couple of redneck jokes and then asked if anyone liked Woody Allen. I then said “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I hate Jews, but Woody Allen is one goddamn good filmmaker” and then I started talking about Annie Hall and then made the crowd listen on my boom-box to the whole 3 minute song Diane Keaton sings in the movie.

Others stuck to their guns and advanced to the second round. I’ve spilled all kinds of ink on the terrific Phil Schalberger and Christian Ricketts, whose genre bending, unorthodox styles have professional futures. Both made the semis, and I figured would make the finals. Neither did. I told Schalberger I was surprised. His reply was simple: “Gresham hates me.” (Possible silver lining: Ricketts and Schalberger and everyone else who did not make the finals can compete again next year.)

Strangely enough, some contestants were buoyed by the weirdness on 182nd and beyond. According to festival organizer Lonnie Bruhn, Cody Smith fed off Gresham crowds. Whenever I saw Smith perform in Portland, he was just OK—good material on the luck of his own conception as his mom is gay. But Smith often received a tepid response. Bruhn, who’s got 20 years of touring experience, told me that the Smith feeds off improv and interaction with the audience, and is actually sometimes better when the crowd is harsh or rowdy.

Putting comics in front of sometimes difficult, varied rooms was part of Bruhn’s plan. More than anything he wanted to give contestants the feeling of what it’s like to be a professional, touring comedian—not all crowds know you, nor do they want to. In other words, not all people are going to dig jokes about Whole Foods and hipsters on fixed gear bikes.

Tim Hammer and Anthony Lopez rounded out the top three. Like Karmel, both are relatively new to stand up. Hammer emerged on the Portland scene about a year ago, and I hear Lopez has only been performing for around six months.

Hammer’s style is beautiful in it’s simplicity: surreal one-liners. Set-up, head-scratching punchline and bam, on to the next. It’s akin to Mitch Hedberg and Stephen Wright. Hammer is just a kid. He’s slight, unassuming, a hair older than 21 and almost passive on stage. His rhythm is slow and odd, and when he begins, audiences aren’t really sure what’s going on. As he progresses, they fall in step with Hammer’s odd pace and sometimes bewildering logic and wordplay. I’ve seen it happen with impressive regularity.

Lopez is another story all-together. He’s a verbose comedian with a speech impediment. Or as he says, a “speech embellishment.” The bit goes on, “it’s my life philosophy that when life gives you lemons, call ’em apples.” Lopez’s act is not hurt at all by the impediment—he is clear and easy to understand.

Two bits of Lopez’s stand out: a run on the creation of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and his own shortcomings when it comes to dating and sex. Lopez confesses he’s bad in bed and says he’s stopped shooting for being the best lover—now he simply wants to be one of the most memorable. I wont ruin it—have a look (it’s all good, but the memorable lover stuff starts around 4:45):

And while it’s great to see Portland’s young talent being recognized and encouraged, the real winner here is the city’s stand up scene at large. Every one of the comics who performed in the contest got better through simple repetition. As winner Ian Karmel explained, because the contest’s slog, “I’ve never felt better about my act.”

As for Gresham, well, I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted. Because most of these young comedians you scared off.