Class Clowns

On the Job with the But Franklies

Class Clowns

Fresh from the Farm, a group of young comics take to the stage in L.A. But they're keeping their day jobs.

by Jesh Preven



	MOUTHING OFF: Many members of the troupe worked together in campus theater and music groups.

It's Saturday night at Luna Park, a trendy Hollywood nightspot. A crowd of stylish twenty-somethings, who look as if they belong at a Quentin Tarantino premiere or a Pearl Jam concert, jostle for a closer view of the decidedly preppy-looking troupe onstage.

Not so long ago, The But Franklies were 16 Stanford students – English and psych and engineering majors active in campus theater and music groups. Now they're taking on the world's entertainment capital with an offbeat combination of improvisation, comedy and a cappella singing.

Pulling the audience into the act is part of their appeal. Tonight's show, "Sham Radio," features three long-form improv scenes that depend on suggestions from the floor for themes, characters and settings. One member of the troupe plays a radio announcer who keeps things moving.

Interactive theater can be tricky. If the audience wants something the actors object to, they risk losing control if they give in – or losing their rapport with the audience if they resist. Tonight's crowd wants to see a scene about a leper. The title: "Don't Touch Me." The Franklies are unfazed. They pick up cues deftly and rarely interrupt each other. Another scene has everyone in stitches: Deepak Chopra cast as the real author of the Declaration of Independence. At least half the laughs come from Greg Chun's eclectic sound effects on the synthesizer.

In what may be a Tinseltown first, the Franklies punctuate their improv performances with original a cappella. Complex rhythms and bright lyrics support their claim to "the highest combined SAT score of any L.A. comedy group." They can find a rhyme for thoracic cavity ("believe in gravity") and sprinkle a refrain with grammar tips ("My nose smells good" – "You mean well, you mean well"). A ditty on Hollywood types who are full of false promises, "Definitely Maybe Try," hits home with the horde of hopefuls in the Luna Park crowd. And the rain-weary Angelenos love tonight's doowop-filled finale, "Blame El Ni