It's not just for laughs anymore.

Stand-up comedy is serious business and a growing number of Canadians appear interested in shedding their current business persona for a chance at fame and fortune in the world of show business.

You can almost hear them saying: "Take my day job, please!" In Calgary, Edmonton and Toronto, an even larger number of aspiring comedians are now getting the chance to find out if they have the right stuff.

Yuk Yuk's, the chain of comedy clubs that has helped to launch the careers of countless comedians, has kicked off a series of stand-up comedy workshops where classes occur at the local Yuk Yuk's club, on the real stage and under the spotlights.

Daniel Alexander, Business Edge
Yuk Yuk's CEO Mark Breslin, left, hams it up with veteran comedian Larry Horowitz.

Participants learn how to write and present original stand-up comedy for fun and profit, with the courses taught by experienced instructors and professional comedians.

"Comedy shines a light on the tragedy of this planet. Great comics have the ability to wade into human sorrow and find the laughter," says Paul Sveen, the instructor for the courses being held in Calgary and Edmonton.

But as with any new undertaking, there are no guarantees of success.

Those experienced in the comedy genre point out that reality programming is still a major force in U.S. television and that it has displaced the once-dominant Hollywood sitcom.

"In the old days - 10 years ago - comics could go to the Just for Laughs Festival (in Montreal) and all the networks would have development funds," says Mark Breslin, the CEO and founder of Yuk Yuk's.

"There would be lots of money to go to Los Angeles for a 'first-look' deal in the hopes the person would turn out to be the next Seinfeld or Roseanne. That doesn't really exist anymore. In that sense, the comedy business has contracted."

Breslin opened the first Yuk Yuk's in the basement of Toronto's Church Street Community Centre in 1976.

He now oversees a comedy empire that includes 14 Yuk Yuk's clubs across Canada - both company-owned and licensees - and an agency wing called Funny Business, which represents 150 Canadian comics.

Including Funny Business, Yuk Yuk's grosses about $12 million a year, and those numbers have been stable for the last three to four years, says Breslin.

"I've always believed anybody who goes into this business for the money is an idiot," says Breslin. "You do it because you love it or you might be able to feed yourself and your family. In Canada, there's no million-dollar payday, but it's a great place to start and make a middle-class living."

Those big bucks may be easier to find on the other side of the border, he admits.

"It's impossible to do it here (in Canada)," he says, "but it's not impossible to do it in the United States. The proliferation of cable has helped a lot of people to make a good living in the U.S. But it is harder to become a superstar now that the sitcoms have dried up. It's all cyclical. I believe sitcoms will come back as people get tired of reality (programming) and want great writing once more."

Canada's comedy market, though dwarfed by opportunities in the United States, is still thriving. Montreal-based Just For Laughs, the country's premiere comedy festival, held its 24th edition this summer drawing nearly two million comedy fans and industry officials, with 434 indoor shows, 1,265 outdoor shows and 1,682 artists from 16 countries. Its budget was $33.5 million.

The festival places a strong emphasis on Canadian comics, says Jodi Lieberman, Just For Laughs' director of development.

"We pay attention to Canadians and we want to help foster the comedy business in Canada," she says. "We do a home-grown comic competition, where we travel across Canada, picking comics from each region.

"The winner gets to take part in shows at the festival."

Stand-up comics can also find themselves booked at numerous comedy clubs across the country or at well-paying corporate gigs - if their act is deemed appropriate to the business community.

Going into comedy doesn't necessarily mean an aspiring stand-up has to give up their day job, at least initially. As Breslin points out, comedy is generally a night profession.

"When you start you just don't go into it. You may have a day job and you're testing the market, testing your salability. Remember, most of comedy happens at night," says Breslin.

A stand-up can expect to earn up to $2,000 per week, depending on their level of expertise, says Breslin, adding that these numbers don't apply to established comedy stars. Many start working for free on amateur nights, building up their routines so they can eventually perform a full set.

Rick Bronson says those new to the field can expect some lean times in the beginning.

The owner of The Comic Strip at West Edmonton Mall, billed as Canada's first comedy entertainment centre, says it can take several months before rookies can land any paid gigs.

"They'll work amateur nights until they're polished," says Bronson, a 20-year stand-up comedy veteran. "When you can get up to a solid 20-minute act and get laughs, that's when they'll start to see some pay."

Bronson has plans to expand The Comic Strip with a second Canadian location in the next six months, in addition to opening another in the U.S. in about a year.

Ed Wende hasn't given up his day job as a service representative for a floor covering company, but the aspiring comic has enrolled in the Yuk Yuk's course in Edmonton.

"It's something I always wanted to do and have a passion for. I hope this will be my second career but it is a long process," says Wende, who grew up watching Carol Burnett, Evening at the Improv and more recently, Last Comic Standing.

"At the end of it, I want to become a headliner, a stand-up comedian," says Wende. "I'm still just an amateur act, but it feels like I'm close to making it," says Wende.

He has made numerous stage appearances at various clubs, with acts in the range of five to seven minutes that allow him to develop his repertoire.

But becoming an "overnight" success can easily take 10 years, says Larry Horowitz, a standup comedian with 35 years of experience who teaches the Yuk Yuk's course in Toronto.

"If somebody is a dentist and they have a dental practice and they have a good home, they're considered successful. That's not the same with entertainment," says Horowitz, who is also the director of the comedy writing and performance diploma program at the school of comedy, part of Toronto's Humber Institute of Technology and Advanced Learning.

"In the public's eye, if they haven't heard of you, they don't consider you a success. I've got dozens and dozens and dozens of graduates and they're all paying their rent. I consider them successful."

For Sveen, the new Yuk Yuk's workshops are not about creating the next Seinfeld.

"I try to teach people to let go of their parachute, to let go of their fears. Humour is such an incredible high when we allow it to be," says Sveen, who has been touring as a stand-up comic for more than 14 years.

"Comedy is about being natural. People are most funny when they're around people that they're comfortable with."

But stand-up comedy is still hard work.

"I don't want to make this depressing, but you have to put a lot of other things on hold (if you want to be successful)," says Horowitz.

"If you're not doing it, you've got to be hanging out where it's done. You have to live it and breathe it."

Web Watch: www.creativeandperformingarts.humber.ca/comedy/home.html
(Laura Severs can be reached at laura@businessedge.ca)