"If the physical thing you're doing is funny, you don't have to act funny while doing it. . . . Just be real, and it will be funnier." -- Gene Wilder

While touring with the Carson & Barnes Circus in 1981 I was assigned the job of selling the show's coloring books. I wanted to be funny while doing it. I discovered that running into one of the tent's quarter poles because I was intent upon selling the books was funny. I would walk along the Hippodrome Track in the direction of a pole. I hopefully held up a coloring book looking into the audience searching for somebody signaling that they wanted to make a purchase. I was twisted so the fleshy part of my shoulder would be the first thing to contact the pole so the impact was safe and minimal. I tried to avoid thinking about the pole and concentrated on my potential customers. That meant that the exact moment when I hit the pole came as a surprise to me. Because it surprised me, it also surprised the audience. When I rebounded from the pole, I would look at it in amazement for the first time. I was mildly shocked that the pole would hit me while I was doing my job. I briefly shook my finger admonishingly at the pole, and then continued down the Hippodrome Track trying to sell more books. I ran into the next pole when I reached it and reacted the same way. If somebody did signal that they wanted to buy a book, I completed the transaction and then solemnly tipped my hat as a way of saying thank you. I started doing it as a sincere action of appreciation, but I soon discovered that audience members thought it was funny. I learned that if I did it purposely trying to be funny they didn't laugh. I had to do it for real for it to be funny. Near the end of the season I learned that some of the people with the show would secretly gather behind the seats to watch me selling coloring books because that thought it was funnier than some of my clown acts. They said what I did selling the books made it seem I was a real doofuss too stupid to figure out how to avoid the poles. I realized that running into the pole wasn't necessarily funny. The humor came from why my character ran into the pole.

Early in my career I created a routine where I held a book upside down while pretending to read it. I worked out a series of funny actions that I would perform when somebody told me the book was upside down. The actions would make it appear I was following their directions but the book would never be properly aligned for me to be able to read it. The routine didn't work because nobody told me the book was upside down. Because I was trying to be funny they thought I was just being silly. They didn't tell me the book was upside down because they believed I already knew that. Later I changed it to holding up a sign for the audience to read. I concentrate on holding the sign up so the audience can see it. Because I am not acting like I am holding up an upside down sign, audience members believe I don't know it is wrong so they correct me. That allows me to try to follow their directions and my misunderstanding, not the actions, is funny. The audience will help you only if they believe you really need help. Richard Snowberg is a master at this misunderstood directions type of routine, whether he is attempting to inflate a balloon or open an umbrella.

Another excellent example is included in Angel Ocasio's book Clowning: Keep it Simple, Keep it Real.  I happened to see the performance he describes from the wings because I was in the same show.  Merrily Schultz was doing an act where she was picking up litter and depositing it in a paper sack which happened to have a hole in the bottom.  A little girl suddenly left her seat and climbed onto the stage to help Merrily.  The girl believed that Merrily's situation was real and that she could help the clown.  It evolved into a charming interaction between the clown and girl.  People still laughed at the act, but the quality of the laughter changed.  There was a new warmth to the laughter because Merrily touched their heart.  After the show I heard many audience members saying Merrily's act was the highlight of that particular show.  When you try too hard to be funny, you work on only one emotional level which tends to be intellectual.  When you play the situation for real you allow the audience to become engaged on many different emotional levels which provides a deeper connection between you and them.

I've heard it said many times that if we don't believe what is happening the audience won't believe it either. Trying to act funny reminds you, and your audience, that it isn't real because you are just acting. Instead of being funny you are being silly which isn't as entertaining.

When you attempt to add humor to your act, is the situation itself funny? Is your character's reason for doing it funny? How can you perform the situation as if it is real? What can you think about while doing the actions to make your performance more believable?