Stand-up comedy is a tough business. No joke. There was a time in the 1980s when the Twin Cities boomed with comedy clubs. Then came a bust that some described as a "bloodbath." In its wake, only a few clubs were left standing. Fast forward to 2009. Few would have thought that the Mall of America's stale fourth floor would usher in a new chapter in the Twin Cities comedy scene.

But there it was last Wednesday. Rick Bronson's House of Comedy, at 350 seats the metro area's biggest comedy club, opened its doors, shining light onto the darkened fourth floor.

The night's touring headliner, Jeff Capri, walked onstage, peered out at the audience and summed up the situation quite nicely.

"Look at this, the Mall of America is back," he said, pausing before the punch line: "I've been doing comedy most of my life so I wouldn't have to work in a mall!"

Probably not the joke that MOA honchos wanted to hear on this inaugural evening. But the comedian, a regular on the national touring scene, made a good point. The megamall -- any mall, for that matter -- is not the coolest of nightlife destinations.

By bringing laughter back to the fourth floor, the House of Comedy is also spearheading a resurgence in the comedy scene. Its opening means the Twin Cities' other major comedy club, Acme in downtown Minneapolis, finally has some competition. Adding to the buzz are a few new urban and suburban comedy nights.

Where Acme is underground and intimate, the House of Comedy is a $2 million enterprise. It's modern, digital, has a VIP section and the ceilings are 25 feet high. In other words, it's huge. Perhaps most stunning is the 30-foot-long Twin Cities skyline mural by Michael Birawer, which serves as the stage's psychedelic backdrop.

The man behind the House of Comedy is Rick Bronson (the guy with his name on the sign). He's stylish and tanned, probably from his days as a Travel Channel host. For the past six years, he's run a club called the Comic Strip at the MOA's sister megamall in Edmonton, Alberta. Bronson said he had originally planned to work with Minnesota native Louie Anderson on the House of Comedy, but that deal fell through (coincidentally, Anderson had two shows at Scott Hansen's Comedy Gallery last weekend). So what does a Canadian know about revitalizing Minnesota comedy?

"I'm assimilating!" Bronson said before last week's debut show. "I bought a Ford. I'm rooting for the Vikings. I'm pissed at Favre. What more do you want from me?"

Bronson is also a stand-up comedian. As a club owner he seems to know what he's doing -- he books well known acts at the Comic Strip and he's promising big things in Bloomington. Norm MacDonald will be here in October. Look for Michael McDonald and Bobby Lee (both of "MADtv") in the near future, and Christopher Titus early next year.

Would-be rivals

"My name means nothing in Minnesota, unless you're a diehard Travel Channel fan," Bronson said.

That said, Bronson isn't afraid to ask for advice. In May, he had dinner with Acme owner Louis Lee at the new Crave restaurant in the Mall of America. For the would-be competitors, it was a meeting of the minds and the first of many sit-downs where the two would discuss ways to work together.

"We both realized that all we're going to do is give comics more stage time," Bronson said. "That benefits both of us."

Lee is soft-spoken and no comedian. But he knows the business. Over 18 years he's turned Acme into one of the most respected rooms in the country -- the kind of place where Robin Williams tries out new material and NBC's "Last Comic Standing" holds auditions. He's a strong believer in building local talent. He recently allowed Bronson to mine Acme's popular Monday open-mike night for potential hires.

"I'm the first person to say we've needed another comedy club for years," Lee said. After seeing Bronson's high-tech lighting, Lee has hired the same company to replace Acme's system.

The buzz around the scene doesn't stop at the House of Comedy. In the suburbs, longtime promoter/comedian Michael Orensteen finally has found a permanent home for his MinneHAHA Comedy Club, which will start with weekend shows Oct. 16 in Burnsville. A recent change to Minneapolis' licensing code has resurrected the Comedy Corner Underground, a small club beneath the Corner Bar near the University of Minnesota's West Bank campus.

"Every single room here is all about developing the comics," said Bob Edwards of Comedy Corner Underground. "You can't be successful on a national level if you can't develop on the local stages."

Ken Reed, co-owner of the Joke Joint, said he'll be adding shows to his midsize club, located in the Ramada Mall of America, across the street from Bronson's House of Comedy.

"The Twin Cities is a large enough market to have another club," he said, "but having them literally 200 yards from my door is not what I would have preferred -- it's forced us to step our game up a little."

A quiet opening

About 125 people watched the House of Comedy's debut show last Wednesday. Not exactly gangbusters, but not bad. While local comedians have been anticipating the opening, it's safe to say that live comedy isn't always the top choice of your average entertainment consumer. Hansen, the comedy godfather who ran a dozen clubs back in the '80s, said, "We're not just competing with each other -- we're competing with every movie that comes out."

In fact, some people in the audience last Wednesday didn't even know the House of Comedy was new. Cherie Espersen of Apple Valley and Steve Dickie of St. Paul were on a date. They decided on the club only after discovering it while searching MOA's website for movie times. Neither of them knew it was the opening night until this reporter asked them for their opinion on the room.

"Omigod, I had no idea," Espersen said. "Now I feel kind of special."

By the end of the night, Bronson's forehead was covered with beads of sweat, probably from a full evening of manning the sound board, checking on the restaurant (R Burger Bar) and pacing the room.

He received nothing but good marks from Capri, the night's headliner. "It's right up there with the Improv," Capri said, referring to the country's largest comedy-club chain, with locations from Los Angeles to New York. (Of course, he had more than enough jokes about our frozen winters: "It's so cold here, once I gave a hooker 20 bucks just to blow on my hands.")

After the show ended and the crowd trickled out, Minneapolis comedian Tom Steffen seemed to savor the moment. He hadn't been back to the megamall since its last comedy club, Knuckleheads, closed in 2004. At Acme, Steffen is often the "feature" act (the No. 2 comic in a three-act show). He was only offered the opening spot here, but couldn't pass up the opportunity to be one of the first comedians to get onstage at the Twin Cities' newest club.

"We can say we were here. It's like Woodstock, only with carpeting," he said.

thorgen@startribune.com • 612-673-7909