No Joking. Just a Lot of Laughing : Comedy: Offbeat stand-up is moving from clubs to cable. Just don’t go looking for a punch line.

In the corner of a cavernous Hollywood sound stage, an approximation of a fashionably funky nightclub has been assembled. A TV-taping crowd of curious locals and slightly befuddled tourists is ushered in, drinks are served at a fully functional bar, and before long, a show begins.

A series of refreshingly offbeat and decidedly funny performers take to the “club’s” stage. Margaret Cho provides examples of her mother’s absurdly concise film reviews. Andy Dick speaks of how quickly he runs out of superlatives when cooing to his infant son: “You’re so cute. You’re so smart. You’re so . . . cute. You’re . . . a genius. You’re . . . telekinetic. You can start fires with your brain.” Kathy Griffin, in the prim guise of “The Etiquette Lady,” offers the somewhat startled crowd advice on social graces: “The gentleman always pays. And would it kill you girls to wear a nice low-heel pump? Please.”

The audience members may or may not be aware that they’re watching what’s been tagged “alternative comedy,” but, judging from the easy laughter and excited applause, they like what they see.

The performances are being taped for “Comedy Product,” which debuts tonight on cable’s Comedy Central. Each half-hour installment of the show will feature several boldly unconventional performers cutting loose with material that can range from darkly twisted sketch work to brutally honest personal observation. Hosted by the winningly sardonic Janeane Garofalo, late of “Saturday Night Live,” the series will offer a number of performers their first TV exposure, but will also include work from such top-notch comedic veterans as Judy Toll, Dana Gould, Julia Sweeney and Bobcat Goldthwait.

The series is the first to attempt to introduce a broad TV audience to the engagingly irreverent, wide-ranging talents of an alternative comedy scene that has blossomed in the last few years in New York, San Francisco and especially in Los Angeles.

The scene is a self-made alternative to traditional stand-up clubs, which, in recent years, have often had no desire to nurture heady, risk-taking performers. Such performers have in turn created their own comedic oases in a loose-knit network of coffeehouses, bookstores, clubs and lounges.

“A lot of these comics are less jokey and less punch-line-oriented,” Garofalo explains. “Some older comics think that’s a cop-out, and think we’re not doing our job, but it’s just a different way of approaching stand-up--you don’t know precisely what you’re going to say when you get up on stage. You’re risking not getting laughs, and you’re risking people really disliking you for 20 minutes.”

Garofalo’s own material leans toward extemporaneous, keenly rendered personal truths. But she is quick to point out that she is not a comedy snob. “I’ll give it up for the jokiest of comics if they’re funny. The fact is, I can’t write a joke, so it’s not like I went through some noble process of freeing myself to become ‘alternative.’ I can’t do traditional stand-up, so I’ve just been doing what I could do.”

For comics tired of the less-than-supportive club circuit, the alternative scene has become a re-energizing safe haven. “There’s no joy in seeing your 8-by-10 between the karaoke machine and a mechanical bull--’Hey! Thursday night is Funny Night!’ ” says Andy Kindler, who developed his neo-Catskills timing in traditional clubs but now puts it to freewheeling use in alternative venues. “My impression of comedy in the ‘80s is freeways ? I don’t think so. That form of comedy is stale. The comedy has to be honest to really be funny. And alternative comedy basically means you’re playing to a better crowd.”

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In Los Angeles, honest comedy and better crowds can be found at the warmly supportive home of the local alternative scene--the Un-Cabaret, which is presented Sunday nights at LunaPark. Each week, several performers are given stage time with the understanding that they will not perform polished material or hide behind a character--the point is to speak freely and be as personal--and funny--as possible. Many of the performers featured on “Comedy Product,” including Garofalo, Cho, Toll, Gould, Sweeney, Kindler and Goldthwait, have honed their skills on the Un-Cabaret stage.

“In the straight stand-up clubs you’re supposed to be one-dimensional--the fat comic, the gay comic, the black comic,” says Beth Lapides, who hosts the shows and co-produces them with her husband, Greg Miller. “The best work we see at the Un-Cabaret is when people take what seems to be their most obvious facet and toss it aside. The show becomes a three-dimensional diary. Then you really hear something powerful. You don’t have to worry about being ‘the weird comic’ because the whole show is people who are freaky next-door-neighbor types. The spirit is, ‘OK, we’re all oddballs. We’re all in this together. Now, let’s start talking.’ ”

Writer Merrill Markoe--who once thought up bits for David Letterman--recently discovered the pleasures of talking to the Un-Cabaret audience. “Ever since I stopped doing stand-up back in the early ‘80s, I’ve been wanting to do it again, but I couldn’t figure out a re-entry point. I ran into this show, and it’s tremendous. The audience is totally tuned in to what’s being said. I got a laugh a few weeks ago by using the phrase ‘seasonal precipitant.’ I still can’t get over that. These crowds might say ‘eh’ to a jokey joke, but they love a nice turn of phrase. That’s so cool.”

“To us, alternative comedy is about reclaiming comedy as a form of communication, rather than as a rigid form of entertainment,” says the Un-Cabaret’s Miller. “Getting to a punch line is as important as the punch line itself.”

And, in alternative comedy, the punch lines do indeed punch. “It’s our responsibility to be entertaining, and, in particular, funny,” explains Bob Odenkirk, a frequent Un-Cabaret performer who’ll also appear on “Comedy Product.” “Let’s make that clear--it’s not enough to be honest. You don’t go to these shows just to watch a bunch of people spilling their guts and getting free therapy. There’s a big difference between being funny and being pitiful.”

That’s not to say that some comics don’t mind leaving an audience feeling a bit shaken up. “I’d rather have an audience walk away freaked out and a little scared,” says Andy Dick. “That’s better than a few lazy giggles from some fast-food jokes.” Dick can work in comedy’s mainstream, as he’s proved with a role on NBC’s “Newsradio.” But he says his work at alternative venues remains the most satisfying.

Venues for alternative work have been steadily increasing in number: LA (The Bookstore), the Onyx coffeehouse and the restaurant Cava have all presented alternative comedy nights. A variety of alternative sketch and character works are presented frequently at the Diamond Club. Alternative comedy has even worked its way into one of Hollywood’s largest mainstream stand-up clubs--the Comedy Store now presents an alternative night in its Belly Room.

Current hot tickets on the alternative scene are those for Hot Cup of Talk, a recurring presentation of unrehearsed, very personal comedy held at the Groundlings Theater. The latest shows are running Monday nights in July.

“This comedy isn’t limited to some ‘in’ crowd,” says Hot Cup organizer Kathy Griffin. “What’s funny is funny. And these ‘alty’ comics don’t shortchange the audience. We talk about everything, assuming they’ll get it, and consistently they do. The biggest thing I hear after Hot Cups is ‘I don’t really like stand-up, but I loved this.’ ”

“Comedy Product” hopes to find that alternative audience, and Garofalo thinks she knows who they are. “This is stand-up for the people who listen to Pavement, or the Breeders or Julianna Hatfield, and who loved ‘Reservoir Dogs,’ and are big fans of ‘Mystery Science Theater 3000.’ It’s like stand-up is starting over again, using the example of Mort Sahl rather than the jokey, blazer-pushed-up-to-the-elbow comics of the ‘80s.”

But the question lingers: If, ultimately, funny is funny, laughter is laughter, and great comedy is simply great comedy, what’s so alternative?

Markoe has heard that the key to the scene may lie in fashion options. “I went to dinner with Bob Odenkirk and Bob Goldthwait after an Un-Cabaret a couple of weeks ago, and I asked them what the big difference was between alternative comedy and regular comedy. They said, ‘Well, a lot of the performers wear shorts.’ ”