One Good Think #5: Kevin Hart
How Hart bounced back after being rejected by a comedy legend
In that moment, I felt my heart drop out of my chest, splat onto the seat, and slide onto the floor..
-Kevin Hart
The Comedy Strip is a standup comedy club in New York City’s Upper East Side.
Ever since the 1970s when the club opened, it’s been a launching point for many hall-of-fame comedians, beginning with Eddie Murphy, and continuing in more recent times with comedians like Sarah Silverman and Aziz Ansari.
That’s why it was a big deal in the early 2000s when Kevin Hart earned an audition.
Hart’s Big Flop
Hart would follow the regular process.
He’d get on stage, perform his 10 minute set, and then go to the back to meet with the talent booker. At that time, that man was Lucien Hold.
Hold was a legend by the time Hart got in front of him. He’d been the one to see potential in the very best— people like Jerry Seinfeld, Chris Rock, and Adam Sandler. Hart was nervous.
Luckily, he killed.
Fortunately, I had an unbelievable set that night. I was on fire, the audience exploded, the room was destroyed. Any other violent comedy metaphors you can imagine, they happened.
With that set, Hart was confident going in to meet Hold.
He expected to be praised given the laughter of the crowd, but, as Hart tells it in his book, I Can’t Make This Up, that’s not what happened.
Hold said:
“Kevin, I watched you, and I don’t think this is for you…I don’t think stand-up comedy is for you. I didn’t get it. The jokes didn’t resonate for me…I’ve been watching comedy for some time. I’ve seen the best of the best. I’ve seen them all, and I don’t see it in you.”
Hart was stunned. Hold continued:
Maybe you should start looking into other things, finding different interests that suit you better. I think it would be very valuable to you at this point.”
This was the low point in Hart’s career.
He was a few years in, he thought he was doing well. And now one of the big names in New York comedy told him he wasn’t good enough.
In that moment, I felt my heart drop out of my chest, splat onto the seat, and slide onto the floor under Lucien’s feet as he stomped on it. Was all that just a waste of time?
Brutal.
How Hart bounced back is the subject of today’s OGT.
Hart’s Bounce Back
Instead of collapsing on the floor in despair, Hart did a very smart thing—he went to find Keith Robinson.
At that point, Robinson was already an established comedian. He’d first found Hart performing in Philly, and though he knew Hart needed work, he saw something in him. A stage presence and an enthusiasm.
Hart found Robinson after the disaster at The Strip to tell him what happened.
Robinson was direct:
Keith: Fuck Lucien. So what?
Me: I don’t know. It was harsh. Hurt a little.
Keith: Get thicker skin.
Me: Uhh . . .
Keith: What are you gonna do, bitch about it?
Me: No, I just thought we could talk about it.
Keith: Shut up, stop being a bitch. Get your dumb ass up.
Me: Okay.
Keith: Don’t you have a spot tonight? Go get on stage. I’ll see you later.
Me: I just need to get back out there, right? Don’t give up and all that. End on a high.
Keith: Stop blubbering about it, dummy, and go do it.
Hart went and performed his set at a small club a few blocks away and—bombed.
“It felt like I’d been kicked in the back of the head by ten kids, then shit on by a flock of birds,” he said.
But after, on the ride back to Philly, Robinson softened, and built Hart back up.
“Look,” Keith explained. “You have people who understand what you’re doing right away, and you got people who won’t get it until everyone else does. That’s just the way it is. To succeed, you have to see how good you’re capable of becoming before anybody else sees it. I’m one of those people that see it, and that’s all you need: just a couple people backing you who believe in you.”
Hart continues to tell the story:
He spoke almost the whole ride home, lifting me up. He told me that when he auditioned at the Comic Strip, even though he passed, Lucien told him there were too many black people in comedy and no one was looking for more. And when Sam Kinison auditioned there, Lucien told him there were too many white people in comedy and his act was never going to work. Kinison went on to become one of the most famous comedians of the eighties.
“It ain’t gonna happen overnight,” Keith went on. “It takes time. So until it happens, don’t fucking bitch about it. Be a man. Have a man’s intuition about taking care of business and go do what you’re supposed to do, which is work on your shit.”
“Goddammit, you’re right,” I finally said.
The OGT
Robinson was on the harsher side of mentors, but knew what Hart needed to hear.
That Robinson believed in him, and that Lucien was not god. That hearing a no from one person—no matter their status—shouldn’t keep you from pursuing your dream as long as you’re getting other good feedback.
It speaks to how crucial it is to have people in your corner. How important it is to go to them when you’re low to lift you back up.
As Hart put it:
If it weren’t for the talk I had with Keith in the car that night, I don’t know what I would have done. I might have given up, at least for a little while. But instead, I kept going back to New York and working harder. I was eventually booked at every other club in the city, but I never went back to the Comic Strip.
Do you have a cheerleader in your corner? One who has also done what you want to do?
Because if Kevin Hart needed one, you’ll probably need one too.
Now, go think on that.