Collection Of Comics Gather Laughs

Outside of Gather, the cafe at 952 State St., rain poured down in torrents. Wet-haired and clutching their umbrellas like lifesavers, people filed in, ready to dry off and cheer up. Fortunately, this Friday evening Gather could offer both. Nine performers — two musicians and seven comics — were busy setting up for a show. As Jake Strom sold tickets to the incoming audience members, his fellow comedian Mustafe Mussa stood ready and waiting with a roll of paper towels.

Once everyone had taken their seats and blotted residual raindrops from their damp clothing, the opening act began. Pop band Moshyura, composed of lead singer and guitarist Mosh and drummer Sri, brought some light and energy to a dim room made dark by the heavy clouds outside. ​“I’m going to keep this short so we can get to laughing,” said Mosh. They played three original songs that combined fast-paced lyrics with upbeat instrumentals.

The audience consisted of 30 to 40 people, packed like sardines into a semicircle of chairs around the microphone. Strom and Mussa arranged the seats to mimic a flattened amphitheater, an implied tribute to the birthplace of comedy within Greek theater. The arrangement fostered a sense of intimacy and community, where comics could face all of the audience personally with just a turn of the head.

Jake Strom performed as the first comedian. He drew from memories of his ​“weird friends,” turning their eccentricities and experiences into hilarious narratives delivered with practice and poise. ​“I have a lot of pothead friends, and they’re always selling weed even though it’s legal, like they’re the Scarface of sativa,” he said. The story progressed to include an imagined Kitchen Nightmares scenario where Gordon Ramsey critiqued the organization of the friends’ ​“business,” which flowed naturally into a bit about the Hulu show The Bear and food preparation. If the neurotic, obsessive lead of the show just had to go to work at a sub-Michelin restaurant, reasoned Strom, ​“why couldn’t he be at the local McDonald’s?”

Next up, Brian Higgins, who Strom jokingly introduced as ​“the first comic of the night,” shared some thoughts with the crowd. His musings ranged from driving anxiety to Carvana vending machines (“They prove that people really do follow up on their coke ideas”) to the comparatively weak ​“tragic backstories” of kids who grew up with vaping dads instead of cigarette fathers. Higgins finished his set with some lessons on the nuances of pot-stirring Facebook arguments: you should always, it seems, reply with ​“Both sides have good points” — even if one side just said that teachers should have grenades.

Nick Viagis delivered soft-spoken, deadpan one-liners that took the audience off guard and stoked the flames of their amusement. ​“My girlfriend’s getting really good at climbing,” he said. ​“Last night she almost escaped.” Later in the routine, Viagis revealed that he had broken up with his girlfriend, and shared some wisdom a friend offered in the spirit of comfort. “‘No one would judge you if you started drinking again,’” he said the friend had told him. To which Viagis responded, ​“Coming from a cocaine addict, that says a lot.”

The interaction inspired a tangent on different drugs and their uses. ​“What are poppers?” asked Viagis. An embarrassed audience member was persuaded to respond, ​“it’s a gay drug.” 

“They loosen up your ass,” Viagis corrected her. ​“Grow up.”

Viagis wasn’t the only comic proficient in crowd work. Ryan Quinn, a teacher (“please don’t call my school,”) pointed out an audience member who bore a resemblance to Johnny from The Sopranos. He asked the man to stand up, and the audience confirmed the comparison.

“You’re welcome,” said the Johnny look-alike.

“You didn’t do shit for me,” exclaimed Quinn. The audience roared.

Brother duo Greg and Rob opened with a tribute to Gather. ​“This is a good place, it’s like New Haven’s fuck you to Starbucks,” they said. ​“We don’t play real places like New Haven, we play places like Balsamic Vinegar, Virginia.” The duo performed together like dancers, finishing sentences and alternating jokes in a choreographed performance. Their observations spanned college experiences in Long Island, political humor, run-ins with angry Italian audiences, and sports. Swimming, they claimed, isn’t a sport, it’s survival. Neither is bowling, although you shouldn’t say so. ​“I once told a bowler that bowling wasn’t a sport,” recalled Greg and Rob. ​“He choked me out with three fingers.”

Finishing the night, Mustafe Mussa talked about stepmoms and how they have no leverage: rather than saying ​“I brought you into this world and I can take you out,” they have to say, ​“stop doing that or I’ll stop fucking your dad.” He mused on how foot fetishes started: ​“Some guy scared to look at women was always looking down,” only to realize that the view was ​“kinda hot.” He pushed the audience to examine their views on race, politics, and billionaires, using humor to subvert their expectations. For example, why would billionaires spend money on private jets when horses are just so much cooler? The first guy to ride a horse ​“got up on the horse and stayed long enough that the horse said, ​‘fuck it, where you trying to go?’”

The audience entered Gather wet and dispirited. Two hours later, they left with dry clothes and faces warm from laughter and good company. They gathered their things and complimented the comics on their work before heading out again into the night, leaving the eye of the storm where everything felt fun and humorous. Fortunately, it wasn’t raining anymore.