Freak Train Celebrates 24 Years of Free Beer and Weirdness

On the last Monday of each month, the Bug Theatre hosts its longest-running show, Freak Train. You never know what to expect at the open-mic variety show, in which the first twelve people to sign up get five minutes to do whatever they want on stage.

The free beer starts pouring at 7 p.m., which is also when sign-ups start for those who want to perform. When we were there, the 160-seat room erupted with excitement when GerRee Hinshaw, the event's host and award-winning performer, took the stage, which is framed by grand columns and illuminated by two glittering disco balls. Meanwhile, Bug executive director Alex Agosta-Weimer assumed the role of "guy in the booth," taking on any technical difficulties through the night.

And what a night: The variety of performances included, among other things, a moving monologue about a trip to Mexico, slam poetry about male comedians' obsession with their penises, and a thrips lecture from "Aaron the Entomologist," a local insect expert and Freak Train regular.
There are no scripts or censorship, so performers can sing, dance, perform standup comedy, or do whatever their imaginations allow. The only rules? No harming anyone — and no glitter. "The glitter rule has emerged over the years of Alex dealing with the ravages that glitter brings to a theater space," Hinshaw explains.

"Very true," Agosta-Weimer chimes in. "In addition to being the executive and artistic director of the theater, I am also the custodian, so I don't have time for that."

Back in 2000, the Bug Theatre Company was brainstorming ideas for programming during the traditional season. A friendly company in town at the time, Promethean Theatre, suggested holding a show on the venue's "dark night," or Mondays. Amanda Berg Wilson (then Amanda Kay Berg), had seen a show called Freak Engine in Memphis and suggested the Bug stage its own version of the act.

"At the time, the Bug Theatre was sort of in an anything-goes kind of scenario, and Alex and other people from the Bug Theatre were all like, 'Sure, this sounds like a great idea,' so we decided to give Freak Train a shot," Hinshaw says. "It had no structure other than the fact that it occurs on the last Monday of each month."
The event debuted in August that year; Freak Train's original hosts were Joel Harmon, co-artistic director of Promethean Theatre, and a rotating co-host. Harmon and Berg co-hosted the first event, with Melanie Moseley, Promethean's other co-artistic director, playing guitar for the opening song.

“It started with about thirty of us, and pretty much everyone in the audience was also signed up to do something that night,” Hinshaw recalls. "Since the first show, there has always been a very minimal set of rules; it is literally the same sheet of rules that we started with, and we have only shoehorned in the glitter rule. Melanie wrote these funky alternate lyrics to Cat Stevens's song 'Peace Train,' which we still use, and there have always been twelve five-minute time slots. Very few things evolved over the next 24 years."

The hosting has switched up, though. Harmon found it exhausting to find a new co-host every month, so he asked Hinshaw, who had previously co-hosted Freak Train and used to be Harmon's roommate, to be his permanent co-host. They hosted the show together until around 2002, when Harmon and Moseley moved out of state for jobs at the University of Oregon. Hinshaw co-hosted with a couple of others in the following years, including Denverite's founding editor, Dave Burdick.

"I realized it was exhausting trying to find a new co-host every couple of years. At that point, I felt at ease in that room, and Alex and I had developed a rapport over the years between the guy in the booth and us up on stage, so I felt like I had a co-host [with] Alex back in the booth."

Quips Agosta-Weimer: "I was there the whole time, GerRee, as the effects beneath your wings."
When asked what stands out most after 24 years, Freak Train's legacy is top of mind for the longtime contributors. "We get asked about the most memorable acts a lot, and while there was a time when I could respond meaningfully, for me this show has never been about the best or any superlative," Hinshaw says. "It's not that they all seem the same, but I'm no longer surprised by how good or unusual things can be. Strangely, over the years, we have discovered that almost every Freak Train has a theme — it's a room where the audience and performers create a vibe together for the night."

Free beer has always been a feature of the show. While the alcohol sponsor has changed over time, Agosta-Weimer is pleased that local brewer Great Divide Brewing has sponsored Freak Train for the past five years. “We figured that's the best way to get people to come see it, along with the low ticket price," he says. "It's five bucks to get in and you get free beer — I don’t know why it’s not packed every month!"

COVID-19 brought an unexpected pause to the tradition. When the pandemic struck, Agosta-Weimer and Hinshaw staged three virtual Freak Trains but discovered that the spontaneity of the live event did not translate in a digital setting. The experience just "didn't add up to the sum of what we can normally expect from Freak Train,” Hinshaw says.

"There was no connection," Agosta-Weimer adds. "Freak Train was always meant to be a live experience. Obviously, as a theater operator, I believe in the live experience; that's why we never simulcast or broadcast it in any way — you have to be there in person."
With the 24th anniversary of Freak Train arriving at the station on August 26, both Agosta-Weimer and Hinshaw are amazed that the show is still running. “No way did I ever think we’d be celebrating 24 years,” says Hinshaw. “It’s exciting to look back and think about all the different folks who have started something for themselves because of Freak Train. We've seen people launch as comedians, singers and new personas at Freak Train, so it’s a very cool part of Denver’s live performance artistic community in that way."

“I thought we'd be run out of town by now," Agosta-Weimer jokes. "Both GerRee and I love doing the show, but 24 years is wild. I don't know if it's the longest-running show in Denver, but I know it's the longest-running show with the words 'Freak' and 'Train' in the title, so we have that going for us."

As the Bug also approaches its thirtieth anniversary in October, the future looks promising for the little show that dares to be. To honor such accomplishments, there will be cake at the August 26 show.

"Should we get a cake for you to jump out of, GerRee?" Agosta-Weimer inquires with a coy smile, implying that if she says yes, he may just find a way to make it happen.

"No, thank you," Hinshaw interjects. "Just cake you can eat."

But while there may not be a giant cake for this anniversary, who says there won't be one for the 25th or 30th? Freak Train has established a legacy of spontaneity, creativity and community that does not appear to be fading anytime soon. It's a rare setting where every performer, no matter how unusual, gets five minutes in the spotlight without judgment.

“We wouldn't have Freak Train without the freaks,” Hinshaw says. "I'm grateful to the audience and performers we've cultivated over the years, who are willing to support whatever happens on stage. Even though the show is based on many old traditions, you never know what you're going to get, which is why I believe people keep coming back month after month."

Freak Train, last Monday of every month, Bug Theatre, 3654 Navajo Street, $5. Learn more at bugtheatre.org/freak-train.