Witness… The End of an Era?
Is there such thing as a sweet ending? This is a legit question, because it seems like it is inherent to an ending’s nature to be either bittersweet or tragic. Yes, there is the concept of a happy ending, and video games these days seem hellbent on there being a good ending alongside a bad one. But even with those happy and good endings, something has still ended. It has ceased to be. So no matter how positive it is, the thing’s still done, and that’s kinda sad. Hell, Aaron Sorkin said that once a story is over, those characters are dead, which makes sense, and if you’ve seen The Life of Chuck, then you definitely know what I’m talking about. So, some degree of mourning seems appropriate.
I’m sure you can guess why endings are on my mind. If you’re reading this, you’ve likely just listened to “The Rock & Roll Lifestyle," which is the last regular episode of Witness if You Will… Notice I say regular episode. I’ll dive more into that in a sec. It’s a tad painful to bring this series to an end, as I spoke the truth in the outro that it has been the most creatively rewarding thing I’ve ever done. But it’s time.
Before we get into some sappy retrospective shit, though, let’s talk about the episode.
“Lifestyle” didn’t start off with intention of being the final episode, but rather was just another idea amongst a myriad of others pinballing around in my head. Initially, the kernel of the story was going to follow the cliche structure of your typical rock star biopic like Walk the Line, Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocketman even MORE closely. This, of course, was already tackled to near perfection in both Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story and Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, but I wanted my tale to rapidly progress the cliches found in these types of movies, much to the shock of the reasonable characters witnessing them.
However, I had trepidations regarding this plot, similar to those I’ve occasionally had for other episodes. A concept like this can feel ripe for a comedy sketch, and stretching a sketch idea out to between 45 and 50 pages can render the whole thing thin (see: a lot of the SNL movies). A number of episodes of tripped me up with this notion, notably “The Eurydice Rescue” and “The One That Got Away.” So the challenge for me became how to insert both heart and real stakes into the story without sacrificing the central bit. In the case of “Lifestyle,” I’ll admit that I think the bit was sacrificed a, well, bit— Romeo Gray still goes through a general rock biopic-like progression as planned, but the beats don’t necessarily hit as hard as they do in the two previously mentioned spoof films. And yet, I think that sacrifice was made for the better, even if my dumb comedy brain feels like there’s something missing. (This is all not meant to be a knock against the episode; I’m super proud of it. But I’m just trying to explain my writing process when it came to it.)
Recording for the episode took place over two sessions. It was supposed to be done in a one foul swoop, but a couple of things went awry. First, Tim Duryea, my cohost on the Weird Al Yankovic retrospective podcast, Weird Pals, forgot he had scheduled an important appointment on the same day and therefore could not make it (funnily enough, that appointment had to be cancelled the day of, so c’est la vie). The other mishap came down to that old chestnut of human behavior, poor communication: Zach Faz, the final member of my iO Summer Intensive cohort, was meant to join us remotely, but those pesky Zoom links can get lost in the fray in those calendar invites, so he expected a DM providing the link that never came. And so, the first recording session on February 15, 2025 held in attendance only John Griffis and Behnam Hediyatnia in person and Allison Cavanagh over Zoom. The second session took place a week later on the 22nd with Tim and an online Zach, an hour before the first recording session for “The Lost Left Sock.”
John Griffis (left) and Behnam Hediyatnia (right).
I forget whose bottle of juice that was.
John again, and Allison Cavanagh Zooming in on the laptop.
Sorry the angle’s so bad, but trust me, she’s there.
(Oh, and John usually has a Coke Zero, so that juice was definitely Behnam’s. Phew, mystery solved.)
I was very much looking forward to this episode’s foley art fantasy because it had to do with instruments. I am a drummer, but living situations haven’t been accommodating for drum sets in over ten years, so I wouldn’t be able to originate any of the drum sounds myself. I’m also not a guitarist nor a bass player, so all of those instrument noises had to come from one of my go-to sound effect sites. What I could do and ended up doing, however, was utilizing my stepdad’s keyboard, which currently sits in the living room covered up and neglected and basically just acting as decor and nothing more. I’m not a pianist and can’t even read sheet music, but I am decent at picking out melodies and working them out on the keys (something I thought would count as a talent during a 5th grade talent show, but ended up learning the hard way that single-finger playing is not as impressive as the performers before me who were actively in piano lessons and knew what the fuck they were doing, so my renditions of the themes for The Simpsons, Peter & the Wolf, The Odd Couple and James Bond were done with shame and no enthusiasm). Of course, picking out melodies wasn’t important to the bits Joe plays throughout the episode, but dicking around on the keyboard and finding the appropriate sounds was still a ton of fun for the half hour it took.
Now, even though I didn’t consider “Lifestyle” to be the series finale upon its initial conception, I feel it is an appropriate summation of the series as a whole. The characters in in the episode are dreamers, just like me. All I’ve ever wanted to be was an artist. I have always been creating. Acting was originally my conscious career of choice, but writing and telling stories in some kind of capacity is what I believe I’m here on this planet to do. And I believe this so adamantly that nothing has really interested me as much, save for improv comedy, and I don’t really have any backup profession in mind. It feels like that moment in Heat when both Al and Bobby bond over the idea that they both don’t know how to do anything else and don’t really care to learn, all before threatening each other’s lives.
The downside of this is, of course, that my eggs are all in that ethereal basket, and as I’ve grown older, a few things have become abundantly clear.
MY WORK ETHIC LEAVES A LOT TO BE LEFT DESIRED. I used to be able to crank out screenplays and short stories left and right. But that was my youth when I didn’t get tired so easily. In my old age (I’m 38, but I feel fucking older), I do get tired easily, but more so, my ability to self-discipline has waned, if it even existed in the first place. I think I always struggled with getting started with homework, and the general concept of deadlines turns me off; even imposing my own deadlines feels fruitless because I don’t provide any consequences for myself out of a desire to not become stressed, and therefore those deadlines can be moved continuously down the line or done away with completely, leaving me back at square one.
MY WRITER’S BLOCK HAS ONLY BEEN GETTING WORSE. Although maybe writer’s block is not what we should call the problem here. I have so many ideas in the pipeline and banging around in my head all day long. But in recent years, it’s become increasingly difficult to actually energize myself enough to work on a project. Final Draft or Microsoft Word will be open on my desktop, just waiting, yearning to have more added to them, but nothing happens because I’m just not “feeling it.” A lot of writers will tell you to write every day, and I do believe that’s helpful, but writing when you’re not in the mood has never turned out well for me. That’s not what’s going on here, though. I tell myself I’m going to write one day, and instead, I get stuck on YouTube or Dropout or Instagram or playing Two Dots on my phone or Instagram again and then I feel tired and I need to nap for twenty minutes, only to go through the same cycle again once I return to consciousness. I don’t know, I’ve been thinking lately I have undiagnosed ADHD, but I’m already on two anti-depressants and have also wondered if those are dampening my creativity, so one more bit of neurodiversity might not be helpful at this time. This podcast has been an exception, clearly, possibly because there are real final products that are put out into the world and therefore there’s no serotonin delay, but meanwhile, those other projects are left on the outside looking in. They’re starving, and that’s the main reason why I’m ending this podcast.
MY INCREASING CYNICISM TOWARD HOLLYWOOD. It sucks. It looks like sucks to live there, and it looks like it really sucks to work there. It’s a non-stop stress-machine, and that’s a hard place to be when you’ve made it a goal to avoid stress at all costs (a paradoxical problem all on its own that my therapist and I speak about ad nauseum). As a kid, I imagined it was as simple as writing a screenplay, showing it to someone, them giving me a thumbs up and casting Ashton Kutcher, Katie Holmes and Gary Sinise with just three easy phone calls. I imagined being the youngest Oscar winner for Best Original Screenplay. I even bet someone $20 that I would have a movie produced before we graduated high school, and boy did he treasure that money when I handed it to him. But now that I see the film industry for what it is— just another business focused on making big bucks for the already wealthy, quality be damned— my desire has been in constant waffle mode: I want it, but I don’t. I need it, but do I? It really makes me sad.
That’s what Season 5 has been about, I think. My internal struggle with what to do with my art. Even the really politically-inclined episodes like “The Weekend Cleaner” and “The Hibernation is Over” factor in, because capitalism is the enemy of artistry and feel bogged down by the bigwig in charge who only care about their power. But as I’ve often stated this season, I don’t have any clear-cut solutions for the problems I’ve been tackling. It’s just been an effort to identify them, shrug and live with them all. In the name of transparency, the meta of this season has been my disappointment that, despite all the hours of hard work I and many others have put into this project, I’m still where I was five years ago when the project began. The fantastical impact I was hoping for did not land, and since writing is my best outlet, I decided to scream all that into the void as well. Hence, the decision to turn away from Witness if You Will… and focus on projects that may have a better shot at making those dreams come true.
As I said at the top, though, this is just the last regular episode. I don’t want to say it’s over because I don’t know what the future holds. Right now, I figure I’ll be able to churn out the occasional bonus episode, because I still have a shit ton of ideas I’d like to get done at some point. Or that won’t happen. Again, I don’t know.
What I do know is that this website and the existing episodes will not be going anywhere. They’re on the internet, which is written in ink, so of course they won’t be going anywhere, but fuck it, I’m saying I’m in control of it all, mwa ha ha. Because, despite all I’ve said about the series being a way to get my art out there, first and foremost this show has always been about my friends. My talented, hilarious, game-for-anything friends. When this series started out as a live show, the main purpose behind it was always to showcase the range of improvisers. When you do improv, you are also an actor. That’s just a fact. And I wanted to tap into those abilities and present them all to the world. This whole show has been about that, and I am indebted to the people who have helped bring these stupid stories to life. So my immense love and thanks to *deep breath*:
David Adams, Corinne Allarde, Conor Allen, Kalia Armbruster, Andrea Barello, Andrew J. Barlow, Richard Barney, Miles Bartle, Maggie Beasley, Alex Berg, Chris Blair, Kevin Boise, Colleen Breen, Lena Brooks, Sarah Bucher, Alem Bulcha, Daniel Burt, Brianna Cala, Leila Carillo, Allison Cavanagh, Julia Cinnamon, Jevin Cokash, Caile Collins, Lilly Conboy, Kaitlyn Cornell, Nate Deakers, Michelle Dean, Sahil Desai, Kendal Detweiller, Lexi Diamond, Matt Dunn, Tim Duryea, Jason Duvall, Zach Faz, David Garcia, John Garrad, Craig Gaspian, Alexis Gay, Ittai Geiger, Sara Goetz, Dan Goslee, John Griffis, Reva Grimball, Caitlin Harrington, Behnam Hediyatnia, Cat Hollander, Kollin Koltz, Hector Huang, Brendan Hunt, Kevin Inglin, Alex Jackson, Brett Jennings, Jarvis Johnson, Mary Johnson, Anne Jordan, Luck Kahovec, Amandari Karaca, Kayla Karban, Sarah Katz-Hyman, Steve Kaye, Alana Kern, Jim Koman, Siang Kong, Wiley Kornbluh, Claire Kostohryz, Joshua Love, Brian Lucett, Will Luera, Jonathan MacDonald, Annie MacMullan, Josh Mahoney, Jason Mann, Michael Manziello, Emily Markoe, Logan Marshall, Keara McCarthy, Zoe McCook, Kari McCullough, Lin McDow, Dana Merwin, Marina Misculin, Brittany Nielsen, Brian James O’Connell, Jo Olivera, Grace Orriss, Jeremy Orriss, Shailen Parmar, Angela Perez, Brad Pike, JP Polin, Andrew Portner, Olivia Puerta, Avi Rajput, Colton Redwine, Max Riechek, Alison Reynolds, Adrian Ruvalcaba, Kia Saehi, Dominique Salerno, Gabe Sanchez, Molly Sanchez, Daniel Shanker, Sarah Joy Shockey, Anton Shuster, Lucas Simon, Justine Sizemore, Julia Szatar, Sid Singh, Frances Sink, Vero Spielt, Johnny Taylor, Katie Terres, Nish Tewari, Oleg Trofimov, Whitney Tu, Sam Turnbull, Anastasia Vigo, Erik Voss, Jeff Walsh, Christof Whiteman, Molly Wiebe, Kris Wilkerson, Michael Williams and Bruce Yelaska.
I also want to shout out the amazing artists who, created some incredible art for every episode:
Alex Berg (again!), Hanna Bliss, Sabrina Cecchini, Amy Clark, Toby Childs, Cody Frost, April Garro, Mitch Green, Chayenne Greenberg, Tirumari Jothi, Joshua Love (again!), Sean Marney, Casey Marquez, Nicky Rodriguez, Graham Ross and Ray Sumser.
Lastly, some extra special shout outs to make. First, to Dylan Garcia, who not only did a voice for an episode, but graciously lent his apartment and equipment when the show transitioned from recording remotely to in person. Second, to Max McCal, Scott Meyer and Sal Testa, who, while also doing voices in some eps, were the folks in charge at Endgames when the show was being done live and gave the green light for three episodes to be done for an audience in a theater. Finally, to Chloe Kiester, Tess Menzies and Natasha Vinik, whose improv team Taco Monster jump started this whole thing with one simple photograph.
Taco Monster c. 2017.
Five months later, “The Homecoming Queen” made its debut (as Imagine if You Will…).
So what’s next? Well, there are two major screenplays I want to polish and perfect, one being the first screenplay I ever wrote and the other being a fictionalized account of what went down when my dad got sick. Once either or both are done, it’s either going to be the screenplay contest route, trying my darndest to shop them around, or doing the Izzy Roland thing and once again recruiting family and friends to help it all come to life (along with, you know, raising enough money so people don’t go unpaid). Alongside all of that, I’ve been working on a collection of short stories that I’d like to self-publish. If it worked for one Andy, I’m sure it could work for another! And who knows, since this blog will still be up, I might pop in to give some updates or write about whatever tickles my fancy. You can’t stop fancies from being tickled, after all.
In closing, I guess all I can say is reiterate my take that no ending is sweet. This is for sure bittersweet. Yes, the podcast has ended, but there are thirty episodes. Thirty! And including “The Bonus Episode” and the three trailers, that’s over twenty-four hours of content. Crazy.
I did a thing. I did a thing with my friends. We created things. And that is something to be proud of.
I hope you had fun listening, because I sure as hell had fun creating, and I intend to keep creating for as long as I have breath in my lungs.
Thank you.
—Andy