The absolute show: absurdity uncut
interview conducted by Gavin Alexandra
photography by Kyle Post (@post_piks)
Picture this: It’s a Wednesday night. You’re on the corner of Brazos and E 5th Street, staring at your phone and wondering how the hell your social anxiety is going to allow you to find a venue you’ve never been to in the middle of the city. You look up in near-defeat just in time to see the world’s smallest, most nondescript sign sway in the wind, and you sigh in relief. Black Rabbit Comedy Club. The door hangs open with stairs leading down into an all-black underground interior. You begin the dark descent into the intimate venue as live house music blends into the pauses of pre-show chatter.
As you find your chair, you realize that everyone around you is clad in leather with bandanas adorning the tops of heads and you notice an increasingly concerning ratio of steel-toed boots to ass-less chaps in the room. Letters adorning the stage spell out
“THE ABSOLUTE SHOW: BIKE WEEK”
and you think to yourself, “What the hell did I buy a ticket for?”
Who’s to say? What may appear to be a chaotic fever dream adorned with a variety of gut-busting humor and bright red corn syrup will be, well, only as understood as the staff of the show will allow it to be. However – and it cannot be denied - the Absolute Show is an open invitation to enjoy the hilarity in the obviously absurd, an experiment in the divinity of the ridiculous, and a guided exploration through the preposterous.
It goes without saying that Austin, Texas has exploded in recent years, gaining recognition as a hotspot for two similarly respected fields: technological engineering and stand-up comedy.
With the opening of Comedy Mothership in 2022 and the subsequently overwhelming success of its shows and regular comedians, Austin’s comedy scene has been targeted on owner Joe Rogan’s bald head with a magnifying glass under a heat lamp. (Get it? Hot spot?) Austin has become saturated with a variety of comedy shows, competitions and downright buffoonery to meet the constant public demand for accessible laughter and alcohol.
Like many other comedy clubs, Comedy Mothership has a plethora of staff in their network, most of them also pursuing some form of comedy for a living – efficiently combining their secular passion and professional, day-to-day work environment for a near-constant chance to hone their craft.
This network is where the subject of our story grew beyond conception.
TL;DR: Mothership staff member and comedian Lukas McCrary was approached one night by fellow comedian Paul Cyphers, who said he wanted work on a talk show with McCrary as the host. All he needed was a co-host, and McCrary could not help but look to his co-worker and new friend, Liz Splatt. A handful of episodes are performed and by episode four, Colton Jones and Ike Rafferty are welcomed onto the project. Cyphers slowly starts to split away from the show for no particularly juicy reason, leaving us with our current weekly writer’s room.
-
The host of the Absolute Show, the catalyst that turns pen-and-paper ideas into onstage action. McCrary had 1.4 billion followers on Instagram before his account got hacked, and this is totally true because he wouldn’t lie to you. He was almost in the nursing program at University of Tennessee in Knoxville before a pimple-popping video had him questioning life itself. Now a successful Austin comedian, he runs what is considered, as he put it, the “most authentic, most humble show.”
-
Co-host of the Absolute Show, the yin to Lukas’s yang. Visceral and confident, Splatt is P.A.W.G. representation in the Austin comedy scene, retelling her daily trials and tribulations in her “PAWG-alogue.” She’s a ghost writer on every slanderous diss track you’ve ever heard and president of the Conan O’Brien Fan Club.
-
The vision of the show, the lord of immersion. Rafferty breathes life into weekly themes with plot-driven bits and gags to really seal the deal on freshness. A former Blues Brother extraordinaire by capitalistic force, now an episodic comedy writer. Also a regular actor on the Absolute Show, with fan-favorite roles like the Devil, a depressed seeing-eye dog and president of Bike Week.
-
The master of stage manipulation, the inquisitor, squire of song parodies. Believed to be around 196 Absolute Show staff members inside one man’s body (much like children in a trenchcoat), Jones focuses on preparation for a star-studded line-up of interviews each week – deep dives on socials, recent travels (congratulations), parent genealogy, etc. He has an eye for theater, an ear for music and a heart for magnets. Loves magnets. The master of stage manipulation, the inquisitor, squire of song parodies. Believed to be around 196 Absolute Show staff members inside one man’s body (much like children in a trenchcoat), Jones focuses on preparation for a star-studded line-up of interviews each week – deep dives on socials, recent travels (congratulations), parent genealogy, etc. He has an eye for theater, an ear for music and a heart for magnets. Loves magnets.
The heart of the Absolute Show lies in its ability to be nothing short of methodically harebrained.
Interviews with other comedians in town are woven between fresh thematic elements and various plot points ranging from a wet t-shirt contest involving only two full-grown men to more fatal storylines like “suicide” peanut butter that sounds a lot like a shotgun behind closed doors (because it’s canon that everyone on the show is deathly allergic to peanut butter). You see Splatt actively pimp out her co-host during the show so they can pay the staff, only to then witness the Devil arm-in-arm with Jesus (of Nazareth) singing Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran. McCrary has gotten pummeled to a pulp on more than one of my viewings, but they don’t pay me to be a mandated reporter.
Shows like The Eric Andre Show, Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!, The Tom Green Show and Comedy Bang! Bang! inspired this unpredictable structure and slapstick nature, creating a uniquely immersive experience for the audience.
However, despite its unwavering oath to spontaneity, the Absolute Show starts off like any other comedy show: in a writer’s room.
“With me and Ike, it’s become more of this plot-focused show,” show writer Colton Jones said. “Things have become more absurd, and there’s more immersion from an audience perspective. All of that feels like I’m seeing myself in this show.”
This writer’s room, headed by local comedians Ike Rafferty and Colton Jones, is where the weekly themes are brought to life via plot-driven bits throughout the whole episode. Either on the phone or through their jobs over at Sunset Strip Comedy Club, Rafferty and Jones conjure up an assortment of various themes. Some plots are based on recent events, like the episode when Lukas was blind from staring at the solar eclipse back in April. Others are timeless, to be saved in a top-secret Google Doc until it “feels right.”
RAFFERTY: A lot of the time, most of the Absolute Show that you see every week is a hodge-podge, a Frankenstein of ideas. We’ll volley the ideas back and forth. What does it mean? What does it look like? What characters are we going to see? What are those bits?
JONES: We argue a lot when we work together, but it’s the same way that I would argue with myself.
With their backgrounds in acting and experience in comedy, Jones and Rafferty tote a familiarity with running a show both on and off-stage. Once a plot has been laid out and gags written, the two only have a handful of days until the next episode to gather costumes, props and whatever else they deem necessary.
On top of devising the storyline, interviews must be interlaced within to encapsulate the talk show aspect of the Absolute Show. This is Jones’ territory, playing the multi-faceted role of “Staff Members That Are Big Fans and Also Have Burning Questions for You.” Over the course of the episodes, Jones has perfected an interview outline for McCrary to reference as a guide to keep both the interview and the episode as a whole at a strong pace. After careful research on the interview subject, this guide will lay out tid bits and fun facts regarding their career, personal life, lineage (???) and other deep-cut, Nardwuar-esque details that make you wonder who Jones had to hold at gunpoint to get that information.
Previous interviews on the Absolute Show include notorious comedians – both local and visiting – such as Kam Patterson, Casey Rocket, Max Manticof, Rachel Wolfson (from Jackass?), Jessie “Jetski” Johnson and many more.
“When I started doing the Absolute Show, I didn’t really care for the form of stand-up comedy. I was over it,” Jones confessed. “But interviewing people who have so much passion for the craft of stand-up while I’m doing something that’s not stand-up – it’s the coolest thing.”
As the show goes on, Rafferty and Jones continuously tweak their process in order to give each episode a stronger sense of equilibrium amongst its juggling of various elements. Every week brings the crew with a new way to entertain.
“It’s been taking it from being more interview-heavy with a little dash of weirdness to being much more balanced between interview and structure, plot and gags,” Rafferty summarized. “It’s just been slowly evolving over the episodes, trying out different interview tactics and different ways to provide Lukas with the information he needs each show to riff around.”
Plot points, running bits and interviews laid out before them like checkpoints, Rafferty and Jones get to work on creating the journey between. This includes writing for the hosts, coming up with jokes and gags that feel natural to both the person saying it and to the plot as a whole.
“There are some growing pains from week to week, because we’re writing for Lukas and Liz and finding out what their limits are, what their strong suits are,” Rafferty noted.
The writing is situated to be tight enough to have a distinct and cohesive beginning, middle and end with near-seamless transitions, but also loose enough to leave room for what the hosts and guests do for a living: Be funny.
During Jones’ interview, he referred to everyone in this quartet as one of the four humors – embodying strengths in different forms of comedy writing and performance. Where one may falter, another may excel in a way that those paying attention can learn in the process. After multiple shows, Jones and Rafferty have been able to notice and understand what comedic conditions the hosts need in order to thrive hysterically.
“Lukas and I have more similar styles of anti-comedy or deeply sarcastic comedy – things that are so obvious, the joke is how obvious they are,” Jones revealed. “I realized we both have the same sensibility for absurdism, so it’s been easier to write things in my voice and give them to Lukas.
“In the last few weeks, we’ve made the decision to put Liz more in the position where she’s genuinely reacting to a lot of the things we’re doing,” Jones continued. “One, she’s great in that comedic space, that’s her strong suit. And two, it gives the audience someone to identify with. If you have someone on the stage like, ‘What the fuck is going on right now?’ then the audience is like, ‘What the fuck is going on right now?!’ And Liz is a great vessel for that.
“On the other end of the spectrum, you have Ike who has such a strong sense of vision,” Jones continued. “As far as staging things, storytelling purposes, making sure things – even if they don’t make sense – they at least flow in a way that makes sense to the audience. Ike and I work on that together.
“With Lukas, he just has so much information to handle as the host,” Jones finalized. “He’s in the middle of the chute where he has to be natural, honest and loose, but he also needs to know where the show’s going, what’s gonna happen.”
Writing complete and props acquired, it’s showtime. Our hosts, local comedians Lukas McCrary and Liz Splatt, sit atop the small stage within the all-black interior of the Black Rabbit Comedy Club – which Rafferty confided to me used to be white marble before they started doing weird shit in there.
McCrary and Splatt have their own set of skills that work great both alone and in tandem for the show. McCrary’s comedic ingenuity in his performances and promotions are only heightened by Splatt’s unwavering confidence and authenticity.
“I get to really just show up and have fun,” Splatt mentioned. “When Lukas asked me to do this, I knew that Lukas not only knew how to run successful shows, but he’s so well-respected. You can tell he’s a genius – from his riffs, from his stand-ups, from the way he puts shows together. I’m grateful for Papa Lukas.”
Even if you watch the edited version of the show on YouTube, it’s evident to see that Lukas and Liz have real chemistry onstage together. According to Liz, it’s a real “will they/won’t they” situation, which wasn’t what I meant – but if that puts asses in seats, let it rip.
The hosts riff and bounce off of each other extremely well, easily becoming a likeable duo to the audience. When one says a joke that doesn’t get a laugh, the other is too busy cracking up to notice. Working together on a weekly common goal and being co-workers at Comedy Mothership, McCrary and Splatt have a dynamic, comedic connection that has only bloomed through the Absolute Show.
SPLATT: I used to annoy him a lot because I would ask him why he didn’t follow me. I thought it was a funny thing, like, in my head – turns out it was pretty annoying. We did the William Montgomery podcast together. You can watch it, it was awkward as fuck. We were doing shows together and being cool, but once he started working at Comedy Mothership, I realized he was awesome. He asked me to do the show, and we became besties. Lukas is the tiny voice I don’t have.
McCRARY: When I first met Liz, I thought, “I don’t like this person. At all.” She’s just very Liz. This is more back when I first met her, but she’s very loud and I’m very quiet. Then we did the William Montgomery podcast together, and we were riffing back and forth and it was so fun. And I thought, “Oh, I just misunderstood this person – she’s actually incredible” Then we started working at the Comedy Mothership together, and that’s when we got closer. And the rest is history.
Interactions on stage, both through interviews and the bits played out in between, rely heavily on McCrary and Splatt working together to keep the audience in on the joke.
“A lot of the stuff we riff about onstage are the things we talk about in the group meetings,” Splatt uncovered. “Then it comes back onstage and it’s like an inside joke between all of us – but it also works for the audience.”
Room left in the writing for off-the-cuff improv between the hosts, guests and audience allow each episode to hold its own sense of singularity, creating a unique experience for everyone that cannot be replicated even if they tried. The interviews give the show a chance to bring outside voices into the episode, highlighting what many comedians don’t get to discuss through a looser form of improv comedy. Every interaction brings an endless list of possible outcomes to hit the audience’s funny bone.
“If we had to put it in broad categories, one would be people that really roll with the punches and go with everything – which can make for a really fun interview,” McCrary explained. “The other side is people that are kind of pushing back against all the weird stuff, which can also be fun because it highlights even more how crazy we’re being.”
As Austin’s comedy scene continues to grow and diversify, so do the shows – fostering experimental humor and new faces. While many may believe the rapid growth in the scene has led to a state of oversaturation, comedians see it as a chance to form a strong, broad community with a common goal to make this whole comedy schtick work out in their lives.
It’s never about being better than another show, but living up to the standards and precedents they are laying in their wake.
“The nice thing about seeing Kill Tony do all these big shows is that they make it seem possible,” Lukas stated.
The Absolute Show continues to evolve, utilizing the large comedy scene in Austin to bring ideas to life. The BIKE WEEK episode referenced in the introduction was an instance in which Rafferty and Jones reached out to fellow comics en masse. Imagine that call-to-action: ISO leather-clad availability to form a fake organization of motorcycle objectophiliacs who shout “BIKE WEEK!” whenever prompted. (Must also be able to sound like an engine at a moment’s notice.)
Jones revealed that that night, out of over 30 attendants, nearly half of them were fake bikers, audience plants. Even I, a professional, observational journalist, was fooled.
“We’ve had a volunteer group on Instagram just for open-micers we know that are all about building immersive sets or being audience plants,” Jones explained. “We just gave them one free beer. They show up in all this leather. They have to be in character for two hours. They’re not credited, they’re not on camera. But at least three people came up to me to say this was a great opportunity for them, thanking me so much. It means people want to be involved, you just have to give them the opportunity.”
By the end of the night, there was a couple in the front row yelling with the rest of the bikers, celebrating the final stop of a fictional Bike Week that has never existed and will never exist again. The Absolute Show, to the audience, is an amalgamation of absurdity that fully immerses them into a world that only exists one night a week for around two hours. They laugh, they leave and it becomes a story they tell their friends when the Applebee’s table gets uncomfortably quiet.
To those involved in its creation, the Absolute Show is an outlet to constantly churn out comedic ideas, always working on something new and fresh. It’s an opportunity to multiply perspective to fully flush out humor.
“In the Comedy Bible, they say to just record a bunch of your jokes. Nobody’s good at doing it, but if you make yourself create 10,000 hours of it, you’ll accidentally create one great hour,” Jones said. “That’s just the law of random chance, but that’s also how you become a professional comedian.
“I do think that the more you make comedy – and especially with people like Liz, Lukas and Ike – it just adds diversity inside your own brain,” Jones highlighted.
If there’s one thing this article was written to do, it was to give you a big enough sense of FOMO to buy a ticket for next Wednesday.
You can witness this organized live in person every week, find them on Instagram (@absoluteshowatx), where they post shorter clips of the episodes they edit for YouTube (again, The Absolute Show).
Lukas also runs other fantastic shows like Main Course Comedy, which you can find out more about on his socials (@hotfemalecomedian),
“This has felt like the next big thing, where I’m really excited about this show and what it is and what it could be. It’s always been something that’s been in the back of my head, being the host of a talk show,” McCrary said. “But now it’s coming to fruition and it’s very exciting. I love doing it. I love what it is and what it can be.”
“Every show, we usually tape a weapon or
a goody-bag-fun-thing under the chairs
– no one ever checks for that,” Rafferty
revealed before leaving the interview. “It
might be gum under your chair when you
check, but something is there.”
Follow the rest of the gang on socials in order to stay in the know on their solo shows and Absolute Show content
