As finals season settles in, a healthy dose of seasonal depression is in tow, and McGill students are in need of an ample serotonin boost. On Nov. 15, the McGill Student Comedy Club (MSCC) sought to satisfy the gloomy campus by hosting their monthly stand-up night. The line for Gert’s Bar & Cafe appeared endless, filled with students eager for a window out of the November melancholy. In a theatrical turn of events, a campus-wide power outage nearly thwarted the performance, plunging the bar into darkness moments before the show. Fortunately, by the grace of God, comedy enthusiast that he is, the lights flickered on shortly after. With chaos circumvented, students eagerly clamoured for the seats nearest to the stage, drinks sloshing together in their haste. Eventually, the crowd settled, the lights dimmed, and palpable anticipation filled the room. 

Many tend to view stand-up comedians merely as witty individuals engaging in introspective discourse. Upon closer examination, these performers are putting themselves in incredibly vulnerable positions, divulging intimate parts of themselves to a crowd of strangers. The show was not about telling jokes, but rather about young adults connecting over the struggles of muddling through the complexities of life. From the moment the performance started, the room was filled with raucous laughter, the kind that comes only from the fondness of shared experiences. 

“One of the first things babies do is laugh,” Gabe Karasik (U3 Science), founder of the MSCC and the evening’s host, said in an interview with The Tribune. “[It is] one of the only things we do as a species that is universal.” 

The performances were fast-paced and energetic, each one of the eight performers crafting their own unique and beguiling narrative. As host, Karasik was charming and witty, maintaining his own facetious commentary whilst seamlessly managing the performances of the night. This was the first show for many of the performers—although you would not have noticed since they conducted themselves so effortlessly. 

A personal favourite was recent McGill graduate Maeve Reilly’s (BA ‘23) introspective take on self-cut bangs. She claims that since cutting them, she has attracted considerable attention in Montreal. As someone who impulsively cut her own bangs, this is a sizable comfort. 

A highlight that had the crowd whooping and cheering was Lillian Borger’s (U4 Arts) tale of her “consensual ethical non-monogamous August:” Her failed attempt to manage her different hookups without catching feelings. This experience included revelations that relationship issues are something she could not actually blame men for, as she manages to form an anxious attachment to literally anything. The laughter that erupted from the crowd in response suggests that the audience felt the same.

Charlie Scholey (U2 Engineering) also provided a memorable performance, taking centre stage in a blazer that even Jerry Seinfeld would envy. Charlie slipped into a comedically-masked quarter-life crisis about his impending 20th birthday, silhouetting a deep exposé into the abysmal and desolate future awaiting us as we age. 

Concordia student Sipora West’s analysis of the French and Canadian national anthems was particularly topical given the current debate over the Quebec government’s proposed tuition increase. She had the crowd in stitches, highlighting that the French anthem is talking about bathing in blood while we are over here ‘standing on guard’ for an ambiguous “thee.” 

The value of the event came from the intimacy of observing a snapshot of the performers’ selfhood. From the power outage to the final drunken laughs, the night was full of passion and energy. 

“There is something special about making people laugh and not just making people laugh but making people feel connected,” Zahra Faiz (U4 Arts), one of the MSCC executives, said. 

This show was a moment of felicity, in a storm of flurrying chaos, that captured the sweet innocence of childhood joy. It embodied the kind of laughter that exists only for itself, allowing every student to leave the bar a little lighter than they had arrived.