There’s no ruling body on the question, not even a Rolling Stone-esque comedy magazine to claim that authority. But there is a smart married comedy couple, now co-authors of “The History of Sketch Comedy.”
Christopher Borrelli | Chicago Tribune (TNS)
CHICAGO — This isn’t meant to be answered with certainty, but for a moment, ask yourself:
What is the single best comedy sketch of all time?
From any source — Abbot & Costello, Monty Python, “Saturday Night Live,” “Portlandia,” “Chapelle’s Show.” There’s no ruling body on the question, not even a Rolling Stone-esque comedy magazine to claim that authority. But there is a smart married comedy couple, Elle Key and Keegan-Michael Key, actor (him), producer (her), now co-authors of a slender, conversational book, “The History of Sketch Comedy.” And by the end of that history, they try to answer this question, and thus, must go through Chicago.
Key and Key’s pick? Bob Odenkirk and David Cross’s “The Audition,” from HBO’s influential ‘90s series “Mr. Show.” The setup: Cross auditions for Odenkirk (Second City vet, Naperville native) and Dino Stamatopoulos (Columbia College alum, Norridge native) and asks to perform a monologue ironically titled “The Audition.” The problem: every time he seems to address Odenkirk and Stamatopoulos, they politely reply and Cross must stop — no, no, that’s a part of his monologue. Ahh … OK, start again. But as Cross’ monologue grows increasingly furious — “Someone answer me! Don’t look at each other! Look at me!” — Odenkirk and Stamatopoulos squirm, unsure if they should respond to this actor who is auditioning by pretending — maybe? — to be in an audition.
In their book, Keegan describes the sketch as the “pinnacle of sketch … my turducken.” On the phone recently, in advance of Key and Key’s appearance at the Chicago Humanities Festival, they explained: That sketch is “everything you should do,” Elle said. It rises in intensity, it’s built on improv’s yes-anding and the end is unexpected.
Also, they agree.
In fact, to discuss comedy with Key and Key can sound vaguely like a sketch:
“So you both agree on comedy and what the history of comedy should look like?”
Elle: “There was a moment when Keegan was presenting at an award show and I wrote him something and had him stop for laughs — he was on video, waiting for the audience’s reaction as if it were live — and he did fight me on that, because he did not think it would get the laugh I knew he would get. But I can’t think of another time when we disagreed …”
Keegan: “Neither can I.”
Elle: “See, he can’t disagree with me now.”
They have been married five years. She’s from New York City; he’s from Detroit. They spoke from New York, where, as Elle explained, by way of describing her husband: “Keegan jaywalked today. I think that’s huge. I can count on one hand how many times he’s jaywalked in New York City, and I don’t think if I wasn’t with him that he would do it.”
Keegan — whose own contribution to sketch comedy, as half of the duo Key & Peele, would need inclusion in any serious discussion of the funniest sketches ever — keeps a kind of proper, formal bearing in everyday life that serves his sketch characters well.
