Laughter, it’s been said, is a kind of medicine. It’s also one hell of an ab workout. If the idea of a beer, a soft couch, and a free night of comedy miles away from the $12 Sunset Strip parking lots appeals, here’s a place to get your chuckle on: downtown’s Lost Souls Café, host of the “If This Doesn’t Work I’m Moving Home” variety hour. Every Wednesday night a scrappy crew led by a Chicago transplant runs an underground night of improv, stand-up, and Andy Kaufman-esque sketch comedy (think: men dressed in trash bags trying to feed each other yogurt—it doesn’t end well) that has us feeling one step closer to sanity and that flat stomach. » Wed. at 8. Admission, free. 124 W. 4th St., downtown.
He’s a Maniac
Somewhere between the release of the Jane Fonda Workout tapes and the rise of the yoga industrial complex, too many exercise classes became serious—even earnest—affairs. “Sweaty Sundays” aims to change that. On a day when most self-respecting hipsters are nursing hangovers, about 60 free spirits don their American Apparel finest and flock to the airy Foresight Studios in Silver Lake to groove to a thumping soundtrack of indie and techno. The routine—part Flashdance, part Gap ad—is taught by a spandex-clad choreographer named Ryan Heffington. Dance experience isn’t a prerequisite, but this is: heartfelt appreciation for the perspiration-soaked, floor-rattling joy of shaking your booty. » Sun. at noon and 1:30. Admission, $10. 3501 W. Sunset Blvd., Silver Lake.
Billy Wilder’s classic film noir Sunset Boulevard opens at sunrise, with a man’s body floating face down in a Bel-Air mansion’s swimming pool. We revere the movie. But it’s the pink-hued moments toward the end of the day that make us shine. We know: Gushing over sunsets is passé. So sue us. “We didn’t need dialogue. We had faces!” Norma Desmond famously says of her bygone silent film days. We feel the same about sunsets. When we see them, we don’t need to justify the travails of the day. We’re just glad we survived another one.