The knights (and lady) of the alternative comedy show known as the Union Square Round Table didn't choose their name lightly. For just over a year, the Round Table has hosted a monthly revue in the up-and-coming namesake neighborhood in Somerville, and it turns out that the connections between Union Square and its core members go beyond a place to put on a show.
Earlier this month, Nick Branigan, Steven Derocher, Ben Dryer, and Keira Horowitz met for a Sunday-night beer at the Independent pub, around the corner from P.A.'s Lounge, which hosts their offbeat show.
They made a special effort to come out that night, Derocher said. Normally, he said, we "go home and fall asleep on our couch while watching cartoons." (The men did cast idle, longing glances at college football on the bar TVs.) With past Hanging With subjects in mind, Dryer laid out a clear objective: "I think our course for the evening is clear. We have to outdrink Jordan Knight."
Dryer, 33, and his wife own the Sherman Café down the street. Dryer also runs the construction company Other City Builders with Branigan and Derocher, both 28, and Horowitz's boyfriend.
One of their company's newly opened Union Square construction projects, a store called Grand, sells "contemporary home furnishings and clothing for the 30s set," Dryer said.
"1930s," deadpanned Derocher.
"Hand-me-downs, it's all free," quipped Branigan.
"It's going off the gold standard," added Dryer.
"T-shirts that say 'I Killed Tom Joad,' " said Derocher.
Perhaps inspired by the imaginary merch, Derocher turned to Horowitz and said, "That's a fabulous sweater." Its neon green skulls stood out next to the matching red beards and hoodies on Derocher and Branigan.
Dryer pulled out the latest version of the state's contractor handbook for Derocher. "He's been growing the beard for the test," Dryer said of Derocher. "But I'm concerned how he's going to do on the football portion of the exam."
The quartet went back to talking about performances at P.A.'s Lounge, which is known for its experimental rock shows - and for its "brutishly handsome" owner Gerry Amaral, according to Dryer: "He's like if the Mona Lisa were. . ." "A dude," Derocher finished.
"I don't think anyone else would let us do what we do," Horowitz said.
Take, for instance, the October show's off-(times-10)-Broadway version of Blue Man Group. The group built a drum frame, whacked things with spatulas, and threw toilet paper at the audience.
It could've been worse, Horowitz said: Once she had to watch a performance artist demonstrate a unique method of watering a cabbage, which she then made into kimchee.
"I didn't eat the kimchee, but some people did," Horowitz said.
"I fried chicken with my thoughts," Branigan countered.
The photographer tried to get name spellings, but Derocher needed a moment: "Hold on, I have to stop laughing at myself."
Missing that night was Eugene Mirman, who had a prior engagement covering the New Hampshire primary. A nationally known comic and former local, Mirman participates when he can and hosts a similar show in New York.
"He wanted a tax-deductible reason to come back to Boston frequently," cracked old friend Dryer.
Still, he added: "We've dedicated our lives to the proposition that we can do interesting things in Boston and not in New York."
Branigan said, "We're both pretty tribal about Boston and making it interesting. . . . We created, really, our own fun."
("What's Mel Brooks doing on Sportscenter?" Dryer interrupted, glancing at the TV.)
A month after the Blue Man debacle, for the first anniversary show, the troupe sold out the house. Hoping to repeat that success, the troupe has cut back to every other month this year. (The next show is Feb. 29.) This will let them build stronger bills, write a book about what, they don't know, and generally extend the Round Table brand.
One idea they're throwing around: a Somerville cable access contractor call-in show called "Whatcha Buildin'?"
With the dual expertise, the group members consider themselves capable of handling complaints about, say, something as extreme as blood and voices emanating from drywall.
"Charlie, those voices probably aren't in the walls, they're probably in your head," Branigan said in a full South Shore accent. "First of all, watch 'Poltergeist' "
"You've gotta call a priest or somebody in a dress," Derocher said. "It's bigger than you, Charlie, get out of the house."
Dryer jumped in. "But a good plumber should be able to fix the leaky pipes."
"I can't really subjugate the screamin' voices," Branigan said, shaking his head.
Derocher: "That's gonna be like another 20, 25 percent on the bill."
Branigan: "The permits are gonna take forever."
Derocher: "It ain't just the city. We gotta go through the Catholic Church on that one."
Group discussion fragmented into pairs, and the quartet packed up at 11, barely a sheet to the wind despite three hours in the pub - sorry, Jordan. The next day, walking by the former Irish Eyes pub - another Other City Union Square project - you could hear a drill whirr.
