“Are You With the Show?”
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“Well, Let’s Just Say I’m Not Against It”
Broadway history overflows with sharp wit and legendary comebacks. However, few lines capture the dry humor of the theater world quite like this specific exchange. It perfectly illustrates the fragile ego of a production and the skepticism of those who create it. This clever quip has traveled through decades, evolving with each retelling. Consequently, it has attached itself to various famous names along the way.
We will explore the fascinating journey of this linguistic gem. Specifically, we will trace its roots from a 1906 newspaper clipping to the legendary biography of George S. Kaufman. You might assume a single genius wrote this line. In reality, it belongs to the collective spirit of the stage.
The Mechanics of a Perfect Quip
The brilliance of this joke lies in its linguistic ambiguity. Primarily, the setup relies on the word “with.” When a doorman or stagehand asks, “Are you with the show?” they are asking about employment. They want to know if you belong to the cast or crew. However, the respondent twists this meaning instantly.
By answering, “I’m not against it,” the speaker treats “with” as a preposition of support. Suddenly, the question becomes about loyalty or artistic approval rather than a job description. This pivot creates immediate humor. Furthermore, it implies the show might be bad enough to warrant opposition.
Therefore, the line serves two functions. First, it answers the practical question of access. Second, it delivers a critique of the production. This dual layer makes the anecdote timeless. It resonates with anyone who has ever worked on a flawed project. Indeed, the humor protects the speaker’s dignity while acknowledging the reality of a flop.
Tracing the Roots to 1906
Most theater historians associate this line with mid-century playwrights. Source However, the earliest version appeared much earlier. . This report predates the famous attributions by several decades.
The newspaper described a scene at Wallack’s Theater in New York. A play titled District Leader was struggling to find an audience. Outside the stage door, theater folk waited for their friends. Eventually, two acquaintances spotted each other. One asked the fateful question regarding the other’s connection to the play. The response was a growl: “I’m against it.”
This original version is notably harsher. It lacks the diplomatic nuance of later iterations. The speaker simply expresses their distaste for the performance. Nevertheless, the core structure of the joke remains identical. This proves that the witticism originated from the anonymous culture of Broadway rather than a single famous mind.
The Howard Dietz Connection
The joke lay dormant in public records for years. Then, it resurfaced in the 1930s with a specific name attached. Leonard Lyons, a famous columnist, credited the line to Howard Dietz in 1937. Dietz was a celebrated lyricist and publicist.
According to Lyons, this exchange occurred in New Haven. Dietz was attending a tryout performance. Unfortunately, the show was not going well. He stood at the back of the theater to escape the disaster on stage. A stagehand approached him in the darkness. He did not recognize the famous writer.
Consequently, the stagehand asked if Dietz was “with” the show. Dietz replied with the classic punchline. In this version, the wit served as a defense mechanism. It separated the creator from the creation. Dietz used humor to distance himself from a flop. Thus, the joke began its journey from a general anecdote to a specific biographical legend.
George S. Kaufman Takes the Stage
Eventually, the story found its most permanent home with George S. Kaufman. Kaufman was a titan of Broadway comedy. His melancholic demeanor made him the perfect vessel for this specific quip. In 1972, biographer Howard Teichmann solidified this connection.
Teichmann recounted a story involving a stage doorman. The doorman stopped Kaufman at a rehearsal hall. The lighting was dim. Therefore, the employee did not see Kaufman’s famous face. He blocked the entrance and asked for credentials.
Kaufman’s response was soft and self-deprecating. “I’m not against it,” he reportedly said. This version softens the blow. It suggests a man who is weary but loyal. Two years later, biographer Scott Meredith reinforced this account. He argued that the line exemplified Kaufman’s humble approach to his own work.
Moreover, Dick Cavett added to the legend in 1979. He wrote the preface for a Kaufman collection. Cavett listed this exchange as one of his favorite Kaufmanisms. For many fans, this sealed the deal. The line now belonged to Kaufman forever.
Why Attribution drifts in Theater
This case study reveals a broader truth about theater history. Witty remarks often migrate toward famous personalities. We call this the “magnetism of fame.” An anonymous stagehand says something funny in 1906. Decades later, the public attributes that same joke to the era’s sharpest wit.
George S. Kaufman attracts these stories easily. He had a reputation for dryness. Therefore, historians and fans want the quote to be his. It fits his character perfectly. However, the evidence suggests he was refining an existing joke rather than inventing it.
Furthermore, the evolution of the phrasing is telling. The 1906 version is angry: “I’m against it.” The Kaufman version is diplomatic: “I’m not against it.” This shift reflects the changing nature of the anecdote. It moved from a complaint to a piece of polished wordplay.
The Enduring Legacy of the Line
Ultimately, the authorship matters less than the sentiment. The line endures because it captures a universal feeling. Every artist feels conflicted about their work occasionally. We all have moments where we support a project but recognize its flaws.
This simple exchange articulates that tension perfectly. It allows the speaker to be honest without being destructive. Additionally, it serves as a secret handshake among industry professionals. It acknowledges the absurdity of show business.
So, are you with the show? If you are lucky, you can say yes with pride. But if the reviews are bad, you can always use this line. It remains the perfect exit strategy for any creative disaster.