Comedians make it their business to make light of life’s problems. Both loved – and sometimes reviled – for making politically incorrect statements on religion, gender, drugs, sex and full-throttle self-deprecation, stand-up comedians expose taboos for laughs.

However, there’s one thing comedians don’t joke about. The comedy business, like every business, has its underbelly. Long hours, heavy competition, and juggling spots with day jobs are anything but funny. And, like all entertainment industries, the production and marketing of the show is just as important as the talent on stage.

The Gotham Comedy Club is one of New York’s most successful stages for both amateur and professional comedians. Mark Maron, Wil Sylvince, Danny Cohen, Adam Harris, Janet Rosen and Jodie Wasserman are just some of the talent featured at Gotham. They provide insight on the funny business, and offer timeless topics as jokes: social problems; the politically incorrect aspects of religion, race, culture, and sex; as well as those less fortunate than ourselves, such as Columbia journalism graduate students.

"This is the lowest rung of show business," says Mark Maron, one of Gotham’s star attractions. "Nine out of 10 comedians are just trying to do something funny. One out of 10 is actually making comedy."

New York Times entertainment columnist Neil Strauss went undercover for six months in late 1998 to try and make it on the "open mike" circuit. After surviving the experience, Strauss wrote, "The bottom rung of the comedy ladder can be uglier and more demeaning than in any other line of entertainment. Sexism and racism run rampant, club owners ask struggling comedians to scrape gum off the bottom of tables to get a booking, competition is fierce, and newcomers have to pay to perform. For comedy clubs, aspiring comedians aren’t a source of new talent: they’re extra revenue."

Was Strauss’ – or, more accurately, his pseudonym, Neil Todd’s – humiliating experience the lot of stand-up beginners? Is the only escape for stand-up hopefuls a TV sitcom deal to avoid the drudgery of the club circuit? Do comedy clubs serve as the place where the thrill of laughter goes to die, or, at the very least, to get a sore throat?