Photo by Brian Chen
It’s hard to believe Stony Brook could sell out anything on a weekend, especially a Sunday show with doors opening at 7:00 p.m. Still, on March 9, lines for the much-anticipated Marcello Hernández Comedy Show snaked from the top floor of the Staller Center all the way down to the lobby. When I finally made my way to the front, a Nikon camera strapped around my neck and my media pass dangling, a security guard took my phone and slipped it into a Yondr pouch before handing it back to me with a casual, “You’re good to go, bossman.”
Yondr pouches, which use magnets to lock and seal mobile devices, are becoming more popular for creating phone-free spaces. This was the first time SBU’s Undergraduate Student Government (USG) used them at an event. Typically, the annual comedy show features a lineup of comedians, like the Impractical Jokers in 2023, so this was a sort of experimental solo performance.
“I was wondering how that was going to be received,” said Tanisa Rahman, vice president of student life.
Threading the delicate balance between enforcing a no-phone policy and addressing practical issues, like students needing to leave for the bathroom, added complexities for management.
“It was mainly just figuring out the logistics behind it, especially because we were doing e-tickets,” explained Jenn Tsuchiya, senior programming coordinator.
Cast in a deep blue light, there was a noticeable awkwardness during the hour leading up to the show. Accustomed to always having my phone in hand with TikTok on standby, I found myself needing to ask the security guards for time updates. But the absence of devices created a unique opportunity for us to catch up with friends in the crowd and meet new people. When Matt Richards took the stage to open the show, the energy in the room was instant. His rather accurate Trump impressions, paired with his raunchy jokes about sex while high, set the tone for the night ahead.
Then, Hernández finally stepped on stage. The room roared with cheers, and the enthusiasm was instant.
“I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time,” said Rahman, reflecting on the night. ,
“It was incredible, I’ve seen his SNL content, but seeing him live?” Tsuchiya said, “I’m really happy with the feedback from students. A lot of people were really excited to see him here.”
At a school with so many first-generation students, it was clear that Hernández’s stories about growing up in an immigrant household resonated with his audience. Tales of an authoritarian mother, getting disciplined for misbehaving and the mythical stories his parents told about their treks to school seemed to hit home for many.
After the show, SBU sophomore Gabe Villacres-Balseca shared his thoughts, “He took a different routine, which felt a lot more personal, especially as someone who identified with a lot of his points about Latin American communities and families.”
Without the distractions of screens and the temptation to document everything, a unique energy was present in the room. Laughs rang out without any interruptions. People weren’t just present physically; they were mentally engaged, and that made the comedy feel more intimate, more connected. It was apparent the engagement was reciprocal, with both the comedians and the crowd feeding off each other’s energy.
I couldn’t help but wonder if this was how entertainment was always meant to be. It felt old-fashioned, in a way. When the show ended, it was nice to see how much the crowd engaged with each other. Conversations were lively, and it seemed like everyone had shared an experience they would talk about for days.
Though the Yondr process is still new, it’s becoming increasingly common at shows and concerts. Looking ahead, I’m excited to see the technology used more frequently in future events. It has the potential to make performances feel more authentic, raw, unfiltered and real. And honestly, that kind of vibe is hard to come by nowadays.
Comments are closed.