The Pushers, Hampton Roads’ premiere sketch comedy troupe, market themselves as raunchy, offensive, and immature; they enthusiastically quote an old Port Folio Weekly characterization as “the Titans of toilet bowl humor.”

I’ll admit it: as I got to 37^th & Zen Friday night for the Pushers’ latest show, “We Don’t Need No Resolutions,” I fully expected to hate it.

The Pushers at play, at war. (Photo: Gina Dalmas)

I’d agreed to cover the show for the sake of trying something new – I’d never been to a live sketch comedy show. Checking into the group’s work, though, I realized I might not fit the target audience. Humor that depends too heavily on the thrill of not getting offended at something that’s supposed to be off-limits for public behavior tends to bore me; maybe the neuron connecting outrageousness to hilarity in my brain shorted out.

Ten minutes before show time, the bar was standing room only. Chairs covered the dance floor, and the bar was doing brisk business. The crowd sounded boisterous and ready to laugh.

They did laugh. Abundantly.

And before I knew it, I was laughing too, maladapted sense of humor notwithstanding.

Worry not, the Pushers are in no danger of toning down their act to levels that could pass network television censors. However, that’s not the only kind of funny they have working for them. Among the other flavors are plenty of absurdity and character-based comedy, a healthy dose of satire, and occasional smart last-minute situational reframings. Also, not to ruin their reputation or anything, but as someone who can get indignant over all the discriminatory -isms (dunno that I’d go so far as “easily offended,” but I feared I might fit), I didn’t find much to get worked up over; they lampoon the ways our society gets awkward when forced to deal with topics like race, and their effective use of foil characters makes anything potentially offensive easier to handle. Those actively offended by sex, violence, and profanity are, of course, still advised to stay away.

On stage @ 37th and Zen. (Photo: Kait Mahar)

The opening sketch superimposed soldiers in battle arguing the finer points of Star Wars as they’re cut down one by one. Up next, a gynecologist office nightmare featuring Lauren Rodgers as Dr. Giggles, complete with quacking speculum and a yeast infection song.

Third sketch, a couple breaks up over unequal dedication to the Ghent counterculture. Complete with skinny jeans, Costello glasses, the need for a ride since his car drowned again, and official schedule for doing the same thing every week (Monday night 75-cent tacos at Tortilla West; Tuesday karaoke at Cruzers; Wednesday Gorilla Piss at Cogan’s; Thursday Secret Dance Party at 37^th & Zen; and Friday at the Boot with DJ Cornbread), Brad McMurran’s caricature of local cool was laser-targeted to the audience. It elicited some of the loudest laughs of the night.

With 21 segments in about two hours of show, even the less entertaining bits didn’t last long. A sparse set with just enough costume pieces and props to provide visual suggestion kept the production rolling quickly. At $5 cover, it’s no wonder the venue was near capacity.

After the show, cast and crew stuck around to mingle and revel until closing time. (Full disclosure time: they did include me in one of the celebratory rounds, but I swear my notes on the show were already written. Still, thanks, generous people.)

As a first-timer, I was unaware that the production was all new material. Sean Devereux, one of the founding members, told me that they’d declared a no repeats rule about a year ago. A show like “We Don’t Need No Resolutions” takes them a week and a half to two weeks of intense rehearsing on top of their day jobs (a sampling: directing commercials for Channel 13; substitute teaching; acting as “patients” for Eastern Virginia Medical School students). Jon Norton, who was acting as theater technician, revealed that actually setting up the venue – including rigging a curtain on one side to create a makeshift backstage and adjusting the lighting – happened the afternoon of the performance. For their next show, January 30 at Colley Cantina, Sean says they have four or five sketches mostly written and ideas for several more; they’ll likely take a week off to preserve group sanity before diving into another two weeks of prep work.

The Pushers, hustlers onstage and off.

Ed Carten, also a founding member, recounted the early history of the Pushers. “It started as a group of friends, and we’re still a group of friends.” In early 2005, Ed and Brad were in The Underpants at the now-defunct 40^th Street Stage; they mentioned that they and some friends from ODU had been working on sketch comedy, and the theater invited them to pitch a show. In early meetings, one of the first things they could agree on was a desire to push the envelope – hence, “The Pushers” were born. The current lineup of actors are mostly Hampton Roads natives (exceptions include Tiffany Chilcott, cast as the Yankee whenever needed; Alba Woodard grew up partially in Italy); mostly have some theatrical background (at the extremes, Lauren is a Second City Conservatory graduate; Tiffany’s the “raw talent” with a degree in science and nutrition); and are mostly very hard to manage, as claims stage manager Leslie North with a smile that makes it quite clear that she enjoys working with them anyway – “You have to learn not to take control.”

Shows in New York City over the summer pushed their recent evolution. While 40^th Street Stage’s closing had already sent them into Hampton Roads bar venues, the New York necessity of transporting the entire production by taxi further pared the theatrical trappings. Working with a new audience and a different energy also motivated them to let the humor grow up a little, although they’re quick to point out that they’re still dirty and still try to hit the sensitive spots.

Brad and Sean do the majority of the initial scripting, but all cast members contribute to the final product. Rob Wilson characterized their humor as varied because it’s from “eight different minds that go through eight different things.” Several members cited real life as primary inspiration – they claim that some of their more outlandish skits are taken nearly verbatim from actual incidents. Usually at least one sketch is intentionally left loose enough to allow the players who enjoy improv a little exercise. Beyond that, it being live theater, anything can happen.

Ultimately, as Sean put it, the Pushers are “ten people coming together and working our asses off.” [10 = the 8 on-stage cast plus 2 behind scenes.] Why do they do it? “Rehearsal sucks. The writing process sucks… but when we’re on stage, it’s magic, it’s awesome. At the end of the day, hearing the audience laughing at something you wrote makes it all worth it.”

Check out the Pushers’ MySpace for future dates and to see some of their bits.