It may be the three flights of stairs that I climbed tirelessly, but this trip down Massachusetts Ave. feels more like a journey to another world. Indeed, it takes me about as far away from the pedantic and conventional as I can get in Harvard Square, to the top of the Hong Kong restaurant, where every night but Monday, crowds gather above the crab rangoons and fried rice to hear an alternative to cookie-cutter sitcom comedy.

From 8 to 10 p.m. the stand-up comedians of the Comedy Studio and their modest audience form, as founder and emcee Rick Jenkins jokes, the only assembly gathered in an attic in Cambridge “not planning the overthrow of the government.” Instead, the comics are ousting the former static state of comedy and offering new and experimental material for the considerations of their small but sophisticated audience.

A decade ago, while Jenkins was working at the Harvard Coop, he conceived the idea of a comedy venue that feels like “a comedian’s club that lets the audience come in.” In its initial years, the Comedy Studio did not gain instant success, with audiences numbering as few as six. Nevertheless, Jenkins refused and continues to refuse to advertise, in order to maintain the more cloistered aura of a comedian’s club.

Most of the initial audiences were comprised of the comedians’ friends and, as Jenkins

states, “a lot of goodwill has slowly led up to building an audience.” As some of the early comedians began to develop notoriety, however, the Comedy Studio began to take off, filling the space’s 60 seats to capacity on a regular basis.

Comedy aficionados flocked to the performances of Eugene Mirman and Brendon Small, who both attained critical acclaim far beyond Cambridge. Mirman later embarked on the national comedy club circuit, while Small created a Cartoon Network television series called “Home Movies.”

Due to the size and location of the venue, making a profit has sometimes proved difficult for Jenkins, who has always regarded the club’s profitability as secondary to his goal of following his life’s dream. “Nobody really makes any money from this,” he says glibly, while folding the programs for that night’s show. “I could easily be making more money in an office. But as along as the comedians don’t mind working for cheap, I don’t mind either.”

This casual shrug to profitability, however, also makes it difficult for the Comedy Studio to bring in big names and established acts, often forcing them to rely heavily on untried talent instead. As a result, many of the 300 aspiring performers that Jenkins places on stage each year tend to find the Comedy Studio by their own efforts.

According to Jenkins, who claims to receive more than a dozen calls a week from aspiring comedians, this can be a double-edged sword, sometimes bringing first-timers who flop on stage during these first performances. But Jenkins also notes that many of the current fan favorites, such as the Walsh Brothers, began as callow comics, rising only gradually to their current status as familiar Comedy Studio acts.

“I want this to be the club I never had when I was starting out,” muses Jenkins. “As long as you seem sincere…and don’t tell jokes about your mother-in-law farting, it’s nice, safe environment to experiment on a real audience.”

For his part, Jenkins cultivates a sincere and friendly rapport with his audiences. In his stand-up routine, Jenkins jokes that his girlfriend, while breaking up with him, stated, “I resent the fact that you’re not being genuine with me—that you’re treating me like one of your audiences.”

“And I said,” Jenkins continued, “’I resent the implication that I’m not genuine with my audiences.’”

The audience certainly plays an integral role in the unique atmosphere surrounding the Comedy Studio, whose crowd consists of a fairly even mix of veteran as well as first-time attendees. The audience is Greenwich Village-variety liberal, and for the most part, familiar with the adventurous, avante-garde material that Jenkins encourages. As David Walsh, who routinely performs at the Comedy Studio, states, “The Comedy Studio is the best because of the audience. The audience is always receptive to new ideas.”

On a typical Friday night, the audience begins gathering early. After climbing three stories, they are greeted with bass-heavy music in a dark attic, crowded with folding chairs and tables laminated with a hodgepodge of articles—some about the Comedy Studio’s history and others that have sentimental value for Jenkins. The stage is less than a foot away from the closest audience members, and probably less than 10 yards from the farthest. The Hong Kong restaurant serves the audience with food, beer, and its trademark Scorpion Bowl, an inebriating concoction of hard liquors.

Introducing himself and welcoming the audience, Jenkins begins the same tried-and-true routine of introducing the night’s performers, making some clever transitions between performers to give the show a general smoothness and coherence. The comedians themselves are a bit hit-or-miss, some consistently cracking up the audience with quality jokes, such as the Walsh Brothers, while others border only on bizarre.

Unfortunately, since the Comedy Studio features many new and up-and-coming comedians, the price is a few sub par comics. Happily, so many acts are featured that the lousy ones are washed away by their more sidesplitting, novel counterparts.

Although Friday night tends to be the most popular night among Harvard students, the Comedy Studio features a two-hour show every night of the week except Monday. And priced at a mere $7-$9, the tickets, which can be purchased at the door, are among the best deals in Cambridge. (And if the price is too steep for your tastes, or even if it’s not, check out the one dollar coupon on the Comedy Studio’s website.)

Jenkins usually quips during his act that “other clubs will say, ‘Tell all your friends about us.’ We would rather you kept it quiet—we’re not sure the Chinese know we’re here.” Jenkins’ jovial warning aside, the cutting-edge comics at the Comedy Studio are a must-see attraction for all Cantabrigians.