Posted on 02 November 2011.
Friday Night Live: a review of the concept
Before I begin this review, I must quote Dr. Greg Fiebig, professor of communication and theatre, who on top of every syllabus types: “Effort does not equal excellence.” And though I want to believe that it does — I spent six hours on that presentation, and you gave me a B-?! — in the real world, effort never equals excellence. It’s all about the results.
This year’s Friday Night Live, though the result of months of hard work, was not excellent. At all.
I’ve attended six FNLs in my time at Indiana Wesleyan University, and I’ve never seen a worse production. Even two years ago when the FNL cast openly mocked me and The Sojourn in its entirety — at least I laughed.
It does you no good if I just say “FNL was bad” and leave it at that. So I want to look at why it was so awful, and why most FNLs are bad as well, using the three questions I asked myself during last weekend’s show: What is the purpose of FNL? What is comedy, and how does FNL exemplify it (or does it)? And, what is the purpose of the “spiritual punch”?
What’s the purpose of FNL?
When I was a senior in high school, an IWU recruiter came to my school to, well, recruit. About 10 of us sat in Carroll High School’s small auditorium to hear a well-dressed man talk about the university. He spent the majority of the time talking about FNL. In fact, that’s the only concrete thing I remember from that meeting.
Recruiter: “Students sit outside the auditorium for hours, waiting for the doors to open! It’s always sold out!”
I thought, “Man, I need to get my tickets now!” The sharp-looking recruiter had me convinced that FNL was the event of the year. It may even be the reason I chose to attend IWU in the first place. (Just kidding.)
From the way this recruiter sold the idea of FNL it made me believe that the event was significant, that it was essential to campus life at IWU.
But is that true? Are we a university that’s all about … funny? Even if FNL were always well done, is that what IWU wants to be known? FNL is strictly an extra-curricular activity; there are no academic advantages to it. No one’s getting class credit for acting. No one’s getting chapel credit for attending.
FNL is advertised more than theatre plays, productions that do give participants class credit with subjects that expand the mind.
How many posters of “Tuesdays with Morrie” did you see around campus? OK, now how many FNL posters did you see? And how many FNL cardboard cut-outs?
What do you learn from FNL, except what to laugh at: the IWU ratio, wedding-crazed girls, the dancing policy, etc.? Who comes out of FNL feeling inspired (except by the spiritual punch)?
That leads me to believe that FNL is just meant for laughs. It may benefit its contributors — helping actors act and writers write — but it does nothing extensive for the audience. It’s strictly entertainment. That wouldn’t be such a big deal if it weren’t promoted more than academic events like plays and guest speakers.
What is comedy?
But is FNL really funny? I learned the definition of comedy from Dick Van Dyke. He said comedy is when your expectations are foiled; you expect one thing, but something else happens.
As a member of the audience, I don’t want to predict everything that’s going to happen in a skit. Sure, there are times when that is funny. With FNL, there’s a certain amount of expectation involved, such as how you expect IWU inside jokes. But when it comes to the plot of a sketch, no one wants to be able to predict everything that will happen.
Take the “Dating Game” skit. No one was surprised by how weird the bachelors were. That was funny in itself, of course. But when the bachelors’ personalities became the focus of the plot, it became less and less funny, especially as the skit dragged on for 14 minutes. The sketch didn’t foil any of our expectations.
Maybe the skit would have been funnier if less emphasis had been placed on the contestants of the show, and more on how they were taken prisoner and subjected to experiments. That was unexpected.
The “Sesame Street” skit was very similar. Characters were slightly neurotic, and that became the focus of the skit. But like the dating skit, the 13-minute “Sesame Street” skit lasted way too long. The audience hoped something would happen, but nothing did. That’s why FNL skits seem to fall so flat at the end. There’s that anticipation for something unexpected, but there was no follow-through.
The best sketch at FNL was the “Engagion” video, created by Steve Floro (sr) and Laura Snyder, because it both met and exceeded our expectations. Those of us who’ve been to several FNLs know how popular the “ring by spring” sketches are. Floro’s version foiled our expectations by approaching the IWU cliche in a new way. Engagement is not just common on this campus — it’s a disease.
What is the purpose of the “spiritual punch”?
My guess: to give FNL real purpose.
Right before the closing number, an FNL cast member steps out onto an empty stage and gives a “spiritual punch,” a mini-sermon or testimony. This year’s lasted about 10 minutes long, the average length of a sketch.
The audience is left a little confused. For nearly two hours people witnessed funny-funny-funny-funny, then an interlude of serious, ending with another dash of funny. The spiritual punch seems so misplaced — and is it even necessary?
FNL is not an evangelistic production, or it wouldn’t rely so heavily on IWU-themed skits. Who, besides a Wildcat, would find the Grandparents’ Day sketch amusing? Who would get it? FNL is clearly directed toward an IWU audience.
We Christians do not need a sermon whenever we go to an IWU-related event. There aren’t sermons after plays or sporting events. FNL shouldn’t stop its production to remind you that the cast and crew are Christians and that its audience members are Christians. We already know that.
As Christians we do everything to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31); we don’t need to proclaim that we do — especially when it confuses the whole mood of a production.
The problem with FNL isn’t a lack of effort; it has more to do with its approach as a whole. If FNL’s purpose is truly just to be funny, then it needs to be funny. If that’s the case, nix the “spiritual punch.”
If, however, FNL is supposed to be beneficial to its crew and audience alike, then it needs to be so holistically. A mini-sermon at the end can’t redeem the production from its frivolity.
I hope next semester’s production is better than this one’s. (Don’t worry, FNL apologists, this is my last review.)