From the stage of a 99-seat Los Angeles theater, an actor reaches no more than 99 people in an evening.
From the screen of a movie house, that same actor might affect more folks, but the quantity is completely dependent upon the number of cinemas and screening rooms the distributor has sent reels to. Some wonderful movies have been experienced by very few people across the land because the distributor printed and proffered very few reels.
Occasionally, the movie never makes it to the cinema at all; it goes straight to DVD and, if it's lucky, to the bottom of someone's Netflix queue, which is never arrived at because Flick #1 is in the storage pocket of the Prius that was just taken back by the bank.
From behind the microphone at a comedy club, a comedian might impact anywhere from 3 to 300 or even, in the case of a concert hall, 3,000 fans, but the comic has to deal with managers and booking agents and hecklers and competition and incessant travel and wide-ranging cultures and occasional bouts of loneliness, which are remedied with a pill problem, yo-yo-ing weight and a tchotchke fetish. This can all be very taxing.
How, then, can actors and comedians more efficiently showcase their talents? How might they keep fresh with a bit less wear and tear? How are they able to demonstrate to their loved ones and talent agents how terrific they would be on a schedule-friendly (where you can have pets and plants and pilates pals) sitcom? Well, via the Web. With increased worldwide access to the Web comes an ever-expanding venue for actors to display their wares.
After ten years of “Friends” and a smattering of TV and movie projects since its final season, Lisa Kudrow has found a consistent vehicle with her colorful and clever series "Web Therapy".