As I sit in the lounge section at Studio One Theaters, I can overhear the two hosts of World’s Hottest Goss, James and Clancy, talking with a couple of road comics about the Portland comedy scene. The travelers say how much they missed performing here. They talk about Portland’s drastic changes since they were last here, pre-COVID. They compare their favorite places to perform, like San Francisco and Vegas, to the New York comedy scene, where they’ve come from.
The two road comics have been living out of a car for a while now. They’ve been showering at Planet Fitnesses and hanging around in coffee shops for the free cups of ice water and Wi-Fi, but that’s the price one pays to become a famous, world-class comedian, right?
Farewells at Studio One Theaters
I’ve been attending free comedy shows in Portland for over a decade. Still, this performance would be one of the more interesting ones. First, they have been doing this show, World’s Hottest Goss, for around a year, and tonight is their last show. Or rather, it’s their final show at this venue, Studio One Theaters on SE Powell. The recurring theme for the night feels like a wake, but without the mourning or respectful tone. It almost feels like they are relieved to be losing this space.
Many performers are struggling comics, and nearly all mention how overpriced the drinks and food are at this location, which I can attest to. I spent $14 on a basket of soggy, stale fries and coffee. At one point, I saw one of the comedians take someone’s discarded leftovers off a table and bring them to her table to snack on while watching the other comics.
The show started with a standard handful of comedians, each doing about five-minute sets. The opening act was Pedro Andrade. He just came from the Safeway across the street with his arms so full of groceries they were spilling onto the stage. The joke being he couldn’t afford the 10-cent bag. Next up was Patti Mansbach, who was also funny but seemed nervous.
As the night wore on, the acts got worse. Halfway through, the hosts announced the last act, and I got excited; little did I know the open mic portion of the show was next. At this point, the audience, comprised chiefly of comedians, were all watching from the other side of the curtains that divide the lounge from the lobby of the theater; they mustn’t get mistaken for audience members, I guess. Most open mic-ers simply go up, introduce themselves, and leave without telling a joke.
Still, the night ends with the hosts dancing on the tables and gingerly knocking over furniture in a not-so-rockstar fashion. They then carefully pick up the furniture, return everything, and start busing tables.
