"Review: 'Sanctuary in Endless Poetry'" by Jamé McCraw

Alejandro Jodoworsky’s Endless Poetry is the second installment of the Chilean director’s autobiographical trilogy. It continues where The Dance of Reality (2013) leaves off, in Santiago, Chile, exploring the artist’s years as a young adult. Although Endless Poetry is the first film I have seen by this well-known filmmaker, I found it to be an incredibly accessible introduction to a body of work that began nearly five decades ago.
In act of open rebellion, the crestfallen and irate young Alejandro Jodorowsky fells a family tree after being ridiculed for his dreams of being a poet by his father and comically cruel and deceitful extended family. His cousin, who is never shown without his beloved dog in his arms, is his only ally after the event. He leads Alejandro to his new home and family where he lives in the company of artists and dancers, including a ballerina who is in perched in toe shoes for the duration of the film.
His mother, portrayed by Pamela Flores, is also at odds with the extended family. She aims to please to no avail. Every line she speaks is sung in a billowy soprano but this characterization, unique only to her, seems to tie the young poet to his mother under the umbrella of art. She is suppressed and constrained in her life, figuratively and literally, by the tight corset she wears. Her young son does not wish to live such a suppressed life.
To portray the push-and-pull dichotomy the filmmaker had with his father, Jodorowsky symbolically cast his own sons in the roles. His oldest son, Brontis Jodorowsky, plays his father, and his youngest son, Adan, plays himself. The director bends the scope of time by inserting himself, an older man at this point, into scenes throughout the movie. He offers advice to the ghost of himself, as if to offer peace and consolation, influencing the course of events to a different outcome.
While under the care and guidance of his new family of misfit artists, young Alejandro flourishes. He improvises poetic verse on the spot to a captive audience. He is directed to a nearby bar to find a muse to further influence his pursuit of beauty, poetry, and life. He meets the voluptuous and bold Stella Diaz with shocking long vibrant red hair and her body painted. Her mannerisms are comically bold. She pounds booze, brawls with brutish strength, and laughs loudly with disdain. Pamela Flores, the same actress who plays Alejandro’s demure songbird mother plays Stella. She is hardly recognizable. In a moment of emasculating chaos, Alejandro distances himself from this overwhelming influence of Stella.
He eventually finds a faithful friend and accomplice in performance and poetic pursuits in Enrique Lihn (played by Leandro Taub). In one memorable scene, the two attempt to prove they need not break stride for obstacles and continue walking a straight path through town by bounding over a produce truck and politely passing through the home of a stranger.
Endless Poetry features many comical moments of rebellion. It is endearing to see the cast of characters “yes-and” one another’s impulses in organic moments, be they energetic bursts or more organized settings.

Even when there is discord or pain, a celebration can be found in the act of reconciliation or while processing grief. There was much care put into this film, and the tenderness is evident in each beautiful moment. Jodorowsky celebrating his life in this way is very touching and an inspirational reminder to any artist with a dream. And whether or not you have found your tribe of misfits, rest assured you will feel welcome into the loving group of friends portrayed in this movie.

*Endless Poetry will be playing at Texas Theatre with multiple showings Friday, July 21 - Friday, July 28.

Jamé McCraw is a current student at DCH and performs with Watermelon. She enjoys watching squirrels through the windows of her little old house while holding hands with her cat, Stanley.

"Freek Appeal" by Jamé McCraw

I was nearing my ninth birthday and preparing for the fourth grade during summer 1994. My best friend was away for the summer leaving me on my own to search for new ideas and sources of inspiration. I was overflowing with boundless energy fueled by Fruit-by-the-Foot, Gushers fruit snacks, and Welch’s fruit-flavored soda but never any actual fruit. My greatest joy came from staying up odd hours of the night alone and watching videotapes rented from Cox Video.

One night, while looking at the new release wall, something caught my eye. A slender VHS case with a canary yellow spine with the word “FREAKED” in funky, bright-pink letters. The cover was sky blue, featuring unusual characters along the border including a sock-puppet man, a cow man, Mr. T, and Michael Stoyanov who I recognized from his role as the brother in Blossom who doesn’t utter a dumb catchphrase. Freaked stars Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure alum Alex Winter. Winter co-wrote and co-directed this feature alongside Tim Burns and Tom Stern. Hideous Mutant Freekz, at its inception, was meant to be an offensive, crude, and violent horror film. After Fox provided the creators with a budget of $12 million, the film was toned down considerably, placing it in the comedy genre with a PG-13 rating and the title was altered to Freaked. It tested poorly and was not widely distributed. Luckily, it wound up on video shelves for unsuspecting weirdos like me to discover.

There are no trailers before Freaked, which opens to flashing strobing images and the most aggressive music my 8-year-old ears had ever heard. Henry Rollins’ guttural screams, fast drums, and jarring guitar riffs blast bombastically alongside an incredibly psychedelic and brightly patterned title sequence by artist David Daniels. Claymation depictions of freaky characters are smeared transitioning into new images. It’s harsh and unsettling, but I absolutely love it.

The story begins with an unusual news bulletin about a “flying gimp” that has been destroyed. It is now safe for people to return to their homes. This is never explained. Why did they have to leave their homes? Your home is supposed to be the safest place you can be. Yet, there is this threat that is exceptional - it can fly but also is hindered -it is a gimp. Crisis averted, so don’t worry about that. The scheduled program resumes, which is a talk show called "The Skye Daley Show." Brooke Shields as Skye Daley appears bubbly and bright in contrast to her guest Ricky Coogin (Alex Winter) sitting in shadows of a heinous silhouette.

Ricky is a has-been child star who becomes the spokesman for a company called E.E.S. (Everything Except Shoes) and is accompanied by his friend Ernie (Michael Stoyanov) to promote a hazardous chemical called Zygrot-24. The pair flies to Santa Flan, an island named after the patron saint of creamy desserts. They trick an eco-activist named Julie (Megan Ward from Encino Man) into traveling with them and fall prey to Freak Show proprietor Elijah C. Skuggs (Randy Quaid). This sun-scorched redneck transfigures the Gen X trio into hideous mutant freaks. The supporting cast features Mr. T as the bearded lady and Bobcat Goldthwaite as a hand-puppet freak called Sockhead. Keanu Reeves is uncredited as Ortiz the Dog Boy. He is covered in fur and sounds like Antonio Banderas. They are forced to perform hokey vaudeville acts for crowds, and chaos ensues. The freaks band together to emancipate themselves from the clutches of Skuggs. In one memorable scene, two walking, giant Rastafarian eyeballs attempt to thwart an escape effort with the entire gang disguised as old-fashioned milkmen. It is amazing.


Freaked triumphs in its enduring audacity. There are so many tropes and gags jammed into this story, but it never feels overwrought. The pacing is nimble, and the saga is truly unique. The production design, sets, and makeup are unlike anything. While it certainly has a late-1980s/early-1990s aesthetic, repeat viewings are never cloyingly reminiscent of that era. It feels timelessly original. In the midst of a cavalcade of grotesque visuals, there is an endearing sweetness to this passion project.

I have never seen a widescreen version of this movie and was delighted to find that the film is available in its entirety on YouTube with extra scenes. When Cox Video ultimately closed down five years after I first saw Freaked, I purchased the exact VHS copy of the film I had rented countless times. It remains one of my most valuable possessions.

Jamé McCraw is a current student at DCH and performs with Watermelon. She enjoys watching squirrels through the windows of her little old house while holding hands with her cat, Stanley.

Watching Sad Movies on Purpose, or Being Sad Leads to Being Funny

New Girl My husband texted me the other day to say that the film adaptation of A Monster Calls did not do so well at the box office financially.

"It's hard to market sad movies to kids," he said.

He's absolutely right. No one likes being sad on purpose.

OK, fine, except me.

For as long as I can remember, when I have had the opportunity to have the living space all to myself, I will make it a point to watch something other people don't want to watch: really f***ing sad movies. This includes Kramer vs. Kramer, Sophie's Choice, My Girl, etc. Sometimes I will force my poor husband to join me in this activity. He is still very bitter about making him watch The Fault in Our Stars, of which he gave the glowing review, "That was a great movie—I never want to see or talk about it again."

The Fault in Our Stars

It's not fun to cry. Personally, my face gets red, my nose fills with snot, my eyes literally burn from the tears I'm shedding, and as the Tumblr kids like to say, I just "can't even." On the other hand, that emotional catharsis is something that we take for granted. We're always searching for how to be happier, to maintain a calm appearance at least 40 hours a week until we can get home and watch something funny to distract us from how miserable we were one (or more) day(s). No one is going to watch My Girl after a long day because he can’t see without his glasses, omg!!!

My Girl

Sometimes we need to be tricked in order to really feel something. No spoilers, but Star Wars: Rogue One is a very good and recent example of this. (Yeah, I'm looking at you Star Wars: Rogue One! My feels, man! My FEELS!) But then you leave the theater emptied of all the bad that happens and you somehow feel better. Sure, your boss may be waiting for you on Monday with a huge stack of papers, but at least you're not the little girl at the end of Pan's Labyrinth! (Yes, that was a spoiler for Pan’s Labyrinth. Sorry, bro. It came out 10 years ago. If you haven’t seen it within 10 years, it was not high on your to-do list.)

More importantly, you connected to a very human part of yourself. I'm depressive, but that doesn't mean I cry all the time. It's more like the part of Inside Out where the emotion control center shuts down, and the character Riley is just sort of numb to everything. The ability to laugh, cry, rage, fear... it keys you into parts of yourself that you try to ignore, but are so essentially you. Because it's once you get in touch with that part of yourself that you can move on and make jokes about it. Tragedy and comedy—the difference is timing and whether or not Kevin Kline has a mustache.

Kevin Kline

I highly recommend being sad for a brief period of time. Preferably due to a fictional circumstance that lasts about two hours or less. And with something to cuddle with... maybe a pet. A stuffed animal is also acceptable. No judging.

Inside Out

KC Ryan is an improv graduate turned Sketch Writing Level 2 student. When she’s not working at the day job, she is a writer and podcaster for everything that combines feminism, comedy, theatre, and nerdery. She also performs in the puppet improv troupe Empty Inside.

Better Call It Drama

Better Call Saul People who can make me laugh are my absolute favorite. Obviously, if laughing wasn’t my thing, I wouldn’t be at Dallas Comedy House learning improv. It’s through said learning, though, that is making it more evident to me just how talented, and multi-faceted, comedians are. And maybe most importantly, I’m learning that it’s not always just about the joke or the laugh.

I love Better Call Saul. I really love Better Call Saul. Maybe it’s a bit obsessive how much I love it, but I have a tendency to become a smidge obsessed with things like TV shows, films, music, podcasts – all of it. Via social media, I communicate primarily in gifs from my favorite aspects of pop culture due to said obsessions, if that helps you paint a more accurate picture of my infatuation with all things arts and entertainment.

The second season of the AMC show just started on February 15 and follows everyone’s favorite “morally-flexible” lawyer, Saul Goodman’s, transformation from Slippin’ Jimmy to his character in the wildly successful and beloved Breaking Bad. But, if I’m being honest, I love Better Call Saul because of Bob Odenkirk.  

Comedy fans will know Bob from Mr. Show, a sketch show also featuring David Cross that aired on HBO in the mid to late 1990s. Odenkirk also served as a writer on Saturday Night Live (SNL) for many years following his time at The Second City Chicago, writing sketches for Chris Farley (Matt Foley, Motivational Speaker, anyone?) and working alongside Conan O’Brien and Robert Smigel. In more recent years, Bob and David released a four-episode sketch show for Netflix, W/ Bob & David, that followed a similar structure as Mr. Show but, as both comedians suggest, is completely different.

With such a background in comedy, it’s impressive to watch Odenkirk in Better Call Saul because it’s such a dramatic role featuring such a complex character. I’m not by any means suggesting that comedic characters can’t also be complex but Jimmy McGill, as well as many of the other Saul characters, really dives headfirst into the deep end. Sure, Better Call Saul will make you laugh but I don’t think the show can exactly be classified a comedy.

While it was mentioned following the first episode of the season during Talking Saul (Yes, like, Talking Dead but about Better Call Saul, also hosted by Chris Hardwick), watching Better Call Saul really makes me think about how many comedians are able to step into very dramatic roles and completely nail it. Maybe this doesn’t quite seem out of the ordinary but how many dramatic actors are able to be really, really funny? A few, but not as many.

What About Bob

Comedians make the jump often and they make it memorable. Bill Murray, a household name in comedy, known for roles in classics like Caddyshack, multiple Wes Anderson films, and my personal favorite since I was a kid (I have no idea why), What About Bob? It was with Lost in Translation that we really got to see Murray’s versatility and ability to do something, and be someone, completely different. Kristen Wiig, another SNL favorite who, thank goddess, brought us Bridesmaids, shines in Welcome to Me and The Skeleton Twins. You can Google this very topic and find list after list of comedians who kill sans jokes, but I can’t bear to leave out Jim Carrey in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting, Steve Carell in, well, take your pick, Foxcatcher, The Big Short, just to name a few.

Kristen Wiig Skeleton Twins

It’s undeniably exciting to watch a person, a person who inspires you yourself to be funny, no matter who that may be, a person who makes you laugh and is, at times, ridiculously silly, make you also angry, cry, cry happy tears or even be afraid, for them or of them. Or, at least, it’s exciting to me.

So, if anyone needs me for the next several Monday evenings, you can find me glued to my TV, rooting for Jimmy and Kim, watching him become Saul, drinking wine, and unintelligibly live-tweeting Better Call Saul like, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh #BetterCallSaul!!! 39 minutes in and I'm already losing my sh*t. So good. @mrbobodenkirk is the best.”* 

*Actual (censored) tweet from my actual (uncensored) Twitter account.

Megan Radke is currently a Level 3 student at DCH. She is a copywriter and social media manager by day and an essayist and mediocre musician by night. She is a constant consumer of books, music, film, and all things comedy. She is also great at racking up copious amounts of credit card debt with spur-of-the-moment travel.

Warning for Graphic Violence, Grisly Images, and Mild Panic Attacks

Movie Anxiety It’s embarrassing to say that movie-watching anxiety happens to me quite a bit. Especially in our current culture where intense action sequences and reality based character moments are the norm. I mean, how often have you cringed when an awkward scene from The Office or Louie occurred? Did you feel like you had to leave the room? Increase that experience by 10 or more, and you have my common reaction to movies like Argo and No Country for Old Men. Great movies, but I do like having control of my heart rate and breathing. Therefore, probably never seeing those movies again.

Of course, this would be a great excuse if it were just related to modern movies.

“Okay, I can’t do this anymore,” I said to my husband once.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Can we just pause the movie? I can’t handle this right now…”

He tilted his head. “Um… sure, but I need you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“My favorite character I like is going to die, I know it! I feel like I can’t breathe! Just pause the movie!”

“It’s The Great Escape, honey. It’s just like Chicken Run--”


I’ve been thinking about this a bit since Sunday after seeing Deadpool during a brunch showing at the Alamo Drafthouse. My anxiety is often amped up by graphic violence and high threats of danger, which I was expecting going in. However, I shielded my eyes once or maybe twice throughout the entire movie while feeling no stress. My breathing remained even, my body did not shrink into my seat like an accordion, my eyes were not tearing from fear that my favorite would die. Why was this?

The obvious answer might be the fact that it was a comedy. Come to think of it, one of my top 10 favorite movies is Shaun of the Dead and my favorite TV show is Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I avoid horror movies and war/gangster/violent-lifestyle dramas at all costs, so it takes a lot of convincing, bribery, and alcohol to get me to watch them. The straight horror and violent drama films always have the same reaction from me, where I have to split the movie over several days. Yet despite the fight it took to get there, the films that are grounded with comedy win my heart. It takes me back to when I first saw Aladdin and the Genie first shot out of the lamp. I was terrified by that immediate impression but in the next second it turned on its head when I heard Robin Williams’s voice say, “Oy! Ten thousand years can give you such a crick in the neck.” That was a telling moment, I think. Even though people could get decapitated left and right or a stare-down could go too long to the point of discomfort, I find that in most cases comedy provides not only humanity but escapism from what I fear.

And not all hardcore violent movies give me anxiety.

My husband’s latest fascination is a series of Internet videos called “Everything Wrong with [insert movie title here].” After watching one on Mad Max: Fury Road, he told me that the shots were set up to reflect Max’s point of view during one of the chase sequences. Rapid cut to’s and shaky cam and what not.

“That explains why my anxiety ramped up during that scene,” he said afterward.

“Wait, what? You had a near anxiety attack?” I asked.

“Yeah. You didn’t?”

“No, I wanted to put warpaint on my face and start a fire! Then I could dance wildly about the flames as the Doof Warrior plucks and pulls notes that would make my enemy captives wail in pain from the sheer amount of awesomeness happening around them! FOR VALHALLA!”

“... huh.”

Different strokes.

KC Ryan is currently a Level 4 student at DCH. An office worker by day, she spends her nights writing, improvising, recording podcasts, and having existential crises. She’s a co-host of Parsec Award-nominated podcast Anomaly Supplemental about general sci-fi and fantasy topics. Her greatest achievement so far is convincing her husband to watch Project Runway.

The Comedy That was a Drama That was a Comedy

Dr. Strangelove This is a continuation of a series in which I count down my Top 5 Favorite Comedy Films

No. 1: Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb

And, here we are at No. 1. Finally. And, what better movie for a sense of finality than one that ends in the nuclear decimation of the entire planet!

If you’re wondering how a movie about nuclear annihilation can be a comedy, you’ve got some pretty good company. As in, absolutely everyone…except for Stanley Kubrick.

Kubrick has been dead now for almost 17 years, and he wasn’t all that productive during his lifetime. Thus, younger audiences are sadly not as aware of him as a filmmaker as they should be, or even know they are.

He only directed 13 feature length films. But, those films are almost all classics that you definitely have at least heard of.

Greatest Hits: Spartacus, Lolita, 2001: A Space Odyssey, A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, Full Metal Jacket, and of course, Dr. Strangelove.  

Some people will be upset at the few omissions. Surely, The Killing, Paths of Glory, and Barry Lyndon deserve mention.

And, younger people might actually know his under-appreciated final directorial effort Eyes Wide Shut, starring pre-divorce Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman and most famous for the masked orgy scene that has been aped in many movies since.

Anyway, to say Kubrick was prolific wouldn’t be accurate, but a genius, unquestionably.

And, nowhere is that genius put more on display than in Dr. Strangelove.

The basic plot is that a rogue general, Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden), has decided to take Cold War matters into his own hands by calling in a nuclear bombing run to the fleet of bombers constantly patrolling the skies between the USA and USSR.

Once Washington and Moscow see the bombers moving toward the USSR on radar, they get together to try and figure out what happened and stop it before one of the planes successfully drops its payload on Soviet soil.

This is particularly important because, as it turns out, the Soviets have just installed an automatic response mechanism that will launch all missiles as soon as it senses a detection on Soviet soil.

Added level of difficulty: the planes are now supposed to disregard all incoming messages that are not accompanied with the proper code, which only the general has.

Nuclear war seems inevitable.

So, how in the world is this a comedy?

Well, it’s not. Or, at least, it didn’t start out as a comedy.

Based on the exactly as serious and dire as it should be book Red Alert by Peter George, Kubrick initially approached to project as a drama.

But, he soon had a change of heart. You see, to him, the whole thing was so comically absurd that he had no choice but to turn it into a pitch-black, satirical comedy.

So, he brought in the satirist Terry Southern to collaborate and set about turning the Cold War into comedy.

The first piece was the most important. Casting the title character. If you haven’t seen it, Dr. Strangelove is a real person in the film, and as his name might suggest, he’s on the peculiar, possibly maniacal, side. And yet, a genius figure revered by many. So, complex. He couldn’t be too clownish or too serious. He had to inhabit this “strange” in between. Kubrick had the perfect person, a brilliant comic actor he’d just worked with in a similarly complex role. Peter Sellers.

Most people know Sellers from the Pink Panther films, but he also starred in Lolita for Kubrick. So, he was signed on to play the odd former Nazi doctor (a definite commentary on Project Paperclip).

But, they didn’t stop there. Before it was all over, Sellers was set to play four characters in the film, though it was eventually whittled down to just three. Just, as if it’s that easy.

He makes it look easy, though. And people that don’t know to look for it, in my experience, never know which characters he plays. Strangelove is wheelchair bound with wild blonde hair, sunglasses, and one gloved hand. Lionel Mandrake, that character the most looks like Sellers in real life, is the RAF Group Captain stationed at the base with General Ripper. And, the U.S. President Merkin Muffley is a slight man with a horseshoe bald spot.

The key to writing satire - well, one of the keys - is to write as if you’re serious. The comedy doesn’t come in spoken jokes (usually). It’s all based in absurdity. So, the characters should generally take their dialogue seriously. Which is why it was a near stroke of genius to fill most of the rest of the cast with veteran dramatic actors such as Hayden and George C. Scott. Especially, Scott.

Known most for playing General Patton in Patton, Scott was a smart man and wise to Kubrick’s plans. But, taking himself seriously as an actor, he refused to engage in any shenanigans when it came to the delivery of his lines.

You see, the words themselves may not be particularly funny in a satire, so the humor can often reside in the delivery. If you’re saying something crazy, say it with a straight face while simultaneously swinging from the rafters.

Scott’s role was General Buck Turgidson, the trigger-happy military adviser to the president. And, he intended to take it seriously. But, Kubrick had a plan.

Something that is actually a good tool to use for measuring emotion, Kubrick would always have Scott do at least one silly, over the top take, saying that it was to help Scott find his range. Kubrick promised not to use any of the takes…then used all of them. And, the result is one of the greatest performances of Scott’s career.

As far as the bombers go, we focus on one in particular led by Major T.J. “King” Kong (Slim Pickens).

Pickens was also in the No. 3 movie on this list, Blazing Saddles. He was a great comic actor…later in his career. But, like a lot of people at the time, he started out doing serious stuff. Obviously, mostly Westerns. He was also way down the list on choices to play the part. This was Sellers original fourth part, but he was injured and cut his roles down to three. Then, they tried to get John Wayne, who turned it down. More people were offered the role before Kubrick finally thought of Pickens, who he’d worked with on Marlon Brando’s One-Eyed Jacks. And, the rest is history. Now, the most iconic image from this movie is him riding the nuclear bomb down onto Soviet soil.

Fun note: This was also James Earl Jones’ first movie. He’s part of Kong’s flight crew.

Another iconic image, that is often copied, is the War Room, where many pivotal scenes take place. As Turgidson, Muffley, and Peter Bull as the Soviet Ambassador argue and scuffle, bureaucracy is played to maximum effect and gives us great lines like, “You can’t fight in here. This is the war room.”

This movie’s influence is nearly immeasurable. From the copied images and characters like Strangelove, the War Room, and riding the bomb to pitch-perfect comedic stabs, like a master fencer jutting his slight blade between the ribs of a heavy drama.

A lot of this is due to Sellers’ performance. General Ripper would be unbearable as he groans on about fluoride in the water if not for Lionel Mandrake nervously interjecting just long enough to tell Ripper he sounds crazy. So, it’s a lot like you having dinner with your Glenn Beck-loving uncle in that way. Only funny.

Then, there’s Pickens’ breakout moment.

Then, there’s the screwball insanity of the War Room, led by Scott playing it as big as he ever could.

Then, there’s the peculiar Strangelove who is both off-putting and funny.

This is a movie best enjoyed with friends. Due to it being one of the most perfect satires ever committed to celluloid, laughs are better in groups. It can be easy to take it seriously sometimes.

The 1960s were a tense time. This move reflects that, but it also calls our leaders to the mat for putting us through such unnecessary insanity like the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Obviously, it took another 25 years to end the Cold War. But, I like to think that, coming out in early 1964 this movie, at least, made a slight impact in reminding people how crazy and unnecessary this all was.

And, now that it’s been 25-plus years since the end of the Cold War, it’s a lot easier to laugh at. Mostly. One doesn’t have to look too hard to see parallels between the characters in the movie and some of our leaders now.

Ripper keeps going off about how the fluoride has made us impotent. He’s blaming his impotence on the Soviets, essentially. And doesn’t that sound an awful lot like some of our leaders now?

It’s in the past, but it’s timeless. It’s perfect satire in that it’s actually a drama. It gets some of the best performances for some all-time greats in their careers. It’s infinitely quotable. Its influence is still felt today. And, it was written and directed by one of the greatest filmmakers in history.

For all these reasons and more, this is why it’s my No. 1 comedy film of all time. I hope you agree. But, if you don’t, that’s cool too. The great thing about comedy is that it’s got something for everyone. It’s not so easy to categorize like drama. Comedy is complex, and it rewards those who love it and seek out the best in it.

Dr. Strangelove has exactly one comedic actor and one satirical writer among a bunch of otherwise serious film people. And yet, the comedy was there. They recognized it and gave it life. And, we’re all better off for it.

Kris Noteboom is a Level 3 student at DCH. He is working on his PhD, with a focus on comedy. He went on a mini tour this summer performing his comedic one-man show, And Then I Woke Up.