It's an experience where the F-word flies, laughter is guaranteed and there's no wall between the stage and audience.
The Charles Darwin Experience has created improvisational comedy and laughter on campus since 1997, when Tony Carnevale, now a fine-arts University of Arizona alumnus, and four friends got together and started performing free shows.
The troupe's creative brand of theater has generated enthusiastic word of mouth. So enthusiastic, in fact, that the group got too popular for its home at The Cellar of the Student Union.
It moved its act last semester to the 340-seat Gallagher Theater, where it performs free shows to packed houses at 10 p.m. Tuesdays when the UA is in session.
The comedic style — you might call it survival of the funniest — is a mixture of unpredictability, ambiguity, a dash of tongue-in-cheek and sometimes racy innuendos. It's a recipe that makes it especially appealing to the college audience.
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Advertising is minimal, and the troupe's only source of income is the money raised from the green Darwin T-shirts sold at the shows.
Looking for different perspectives, we talked to the audience at a recent performance and to the performers. And we also spent an evening onstage to see if we could figure out just what it is that the Darwins actually do to create such acute laughter and devoted fans.
It's about an hour before showtime, and early arrivals are greedily saving seats for friends. They fill up on popcorn and frozen yogurt as they wait.
By 9:20 p.m., the room is filled. Conversation and laughter rise above the crowd.
Among those early arrivals is pre-communications major Megan Lloyd, who has snagged a seat in the middle of the front row. She's been here many times.
"Their energy is very contagious,"' says the UA sophomore. "In high school I was in improv, and it's really nice to be a part of it again and see it every week."
Across the room, Jesse Tannous has found a seat in the second row.
"It's really funny. Even when they're screwing up, it's hysterical," says the creative-writing junior.
He lists the three main reasons he catches the group regularly: the friends, the atmosphere and John Shartzer, one of the more popular Darwins.
Thandi Myron, who sits next to Tannous, remembers a funny moment involving Shartzer as a cabana boy.
"I couldn't stop laughing that night," says the media-arts and general-business senior.
Once the show starts, the audience joins in, shouting out words to contribute to the games. The Darwins pick one of the words to start a story, and another to end it, then fill out the middle any way they please.
It was a good launch to an evening of laughter.
Through the exit doors and outside the student union is Fernando Zacarias, who says improv "takes a lot of (courage)."
And it's lots of fun, he adds.
"I come with a collective group of friends, and it's funny . . . something to do on a Tuesday night," he says.
Before going on, the Darwins take a moment outside the theater to warm up.
As a circle forms, the group chants "Too Legit to Quit" as it does a kind of roll-call dance sequence.
One Darwin makes up a dance move, and the others mimic it. The pregame ritual ends with a huddle and a cheer, then they quickly run back into the theater, through the back doors, up the aisles and eventually to the stage.
Shannon Corrigan takes the mic to give the details of the first game. The show is divided into 10 games, all controlled by the audience. Each game is determined by the words shouted out by the audience — and a funny outcome isn't always guaranteed.
"There have been plenty of times where I've just flopped," recalls director Alex Garday. "Just times . . . you do something and in your head it's funny, and then you say it and you do it, and it just doesn't pan out the way you intended it."
There are varied reasons for being a Darwin.
Tyler Quillin, the musician of the group, says he just likes to make fun of himself, while Shartzer, a senior, says he enjoys the interaction with the audience.
"It's really nice to have people come up to us and tell us they had fun," he says.
All the Darwins are UA students. But graduation doesn't mean losing their status in the group.
"Once a Darwin, always a Darwin," explains Garday, though auditions are held every semester for new members who will bring fresh ideas.
The Darwins call themselves a family — a "tight-knit group," Garday says.
"All of us, we're not just performers . . . we're friends, we're family. . . . We hang out and we are able to make each other laugh, and I think that translates onstage."
Being a Darwin for a night is hot, awkward and confusing. And a lot harder than I expected it to be.
No welcoming arms or warm smiles from the Darwins could have prepared me for the inevitable dumbfounded expression that took residence on my face.
"Don't worry," says one Darwin.
"You'll do fine," says another.
"Oh, you think so," I think.
The stage lights are so blinding, I can barely see anything. My heart is pounding and I can feel my cheeks redden as I'm introduced.
Most of the performance is a blur. But the game called LOW is hard to forget.
It is a game in which all but one of the troupe leave the room while the audience chooses the Location, Occupation and Weapon for the game. Thankfully, I am not the one left alone on the stage.
Once the LOW is established, the Darwins come in one at a time and guess the scenario acted out by the Darwin before. The catch: Everyone has to talk in gibberish. I stand outside the theater, leaning on a vending machine as a couple of Darwins assure me it is an easy game.
As I wait alone for what feels like forever, my name is called and it's up to me to end the game. I walk closer and run into a chair, almost tripping over my feet before finally making it onstage.
It never occurs to me that a part of improv is movement. It's something I am unable to achieve as I stand with my feet forced together, glued to the floor, trying to figure out what the person before me is acting out.
Ultimately, I'm clueless as to what's going on. I can recall laughter, much embarrassment on my part and the inability to move or say anything.
Nevertheless, the after effect of being an improvisation newbie is blissful. I am strangely excited as I walk out of the theater. I know I haven't grasped the concept of good improv, but my appreciation for those who do is greater than ever.
It is easy to watch people being funny, but trying to do it yourself is a whole different world of craziness. Never in my life had I gotten such a high from feeling so "low" on that improv totem pole.
• When: 10 p.m. Tuesdays, starting Jan. 20, through May 5.
• Where: Gallagher Theater at the Student Union Memorial Center, 1303 E. University Blvd.
• Cost: Free.
The Comedy Corner is a student-run comedy group that performs weekly in The Cellar of the UA Student Union. It all began in 1979, when public-management freshman Adam P. Goldstein, engineering junior Jim Craig and architecture junior Phil Klinkon created the "Closet Comics," which was later coined The Comedy Corner. Unlike the Darwins, Comedy Corner members do add other elements on top of improvisation, such as stand-up and sketch comedy skits that they rehearse before their Friday performances.
The troupe performs every Friday at the Cellar Lounge and Restaurant at noon when school is in session.

