Jimmy Pardo: Classic comedy done right

by Daniel Perlman

Veteran stand-up, trailblazing podcaster and brand new warm-up comedian for the Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien, Jimmy Pardo is going to make you laugh– one way or another.

Jimmy Pardo was once a young kid from Chicago who dreamed of becoming the next Johnny Carson. Today, Pardo is a 20-year comedy veteran, having paid his dues through things most comics go through (nightmare gigs and several failed pilots). He’s now making a name for himself as host of the hit podcast, Never Not Funny– which, if you’ve followed Pardo’s comedy trajectory you will know the podcast makes perfect sense.

For years now, Pardo has hosted live talk shows onstage, games shows for television and has made a habit of liberally dipping into his stand-up audience for laugh fodder. It’s all done with class, however. A true pro, Pardo is able to interact with his crowd and still maintain an edge without hurling insults and cheap shots.

Lucky for us, Jimmy recently chatted with Punchline Magazine about podcasting, what makes a good talk-show host, and much more.

Let’s talk about your podcast, Never Not Funny. What was your goal when you first started the it?
I’m very good talking with people, and I’m good at winging it onstage, but if you told me, ‘Hey, you should write a blog every day and tell people what you’re up to,’ it would sound like a 14-year-old girl who has no knowledge of English whatsoever. Any time I try to write something in that way, I just look like an idiot. So then in 2006, I was approached by the guy who’s now my producer (and co-host) Matt Belknap, and he said, ‘You should do a podcast.’ And I thought that’s the perfect way to get these funny things out there every week, as sort of an audio blog entry.

How much preparation goes into each episode?
Zero. I’ll think of some stuff in my head, but I find whenever I write down topics I wanted to hit, my mind isn’t free enough to go with the stream of consciousness conversations. If somebody says the word “ghosts,” I want to be able to say “Do you believe in ghosts?” and then we’ll talk about that for 25 minutes. I don’t want to be thinking, ‘We gotta get back to McDonald’s!’

We had Adam Carolla on recently. And Adam and I don’t know each other all that well, but Adam was hysterical. And very much like Carson, my role at times like that is just to facilitate. I would chime in from time to time to keep the conversation moving, but Adam was doing all the heavy lifting. And there’s other episodes where it’s more of a tennis match, back and forth.

You recently started charging for the full podcast. Did your listeners get pissed?
Everyone expects everything for free on the Internet. Stealing music, TV clips. It was a calculated risk to go to the pay format. But if you can drive to a bar and make money for doing stand-up, why not make money for doing this? People bitched for a while. But the number of people that have paid is still far beyond what I ever expected.

What do you think it is about Never Not Funny that’s made it successful?
I think the key is to have people who have good stories and then reacting off those stories; that’s where we find the funny. It’s great, and it’s my favorite thing I’ve done in my career. We’ve done over 170 shows. I think there are maybe three that are good, and the rest are very good to great. And I say that humbly, based on comments on the Internet and that sort of thing. When I listen back to them, sometimes I think I sound annoying. But for the most part, I think ‘That’s a pretty good episode.’ And I’m lucky I have these talented, funny people that come on that make people want to pay to listen to it.

You’re also now the warm-up comedian for The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien.
Yes, Monday through Fridays. Knock on wood, it’s turning out to be the second-greatest gig in the world. My dream obviously is to be on television. But when Conan asks you if you want to do warm-up for the brand-new Tonight Show, you say ‘yes.’ It’s the greatest talk show in history, and Conan is terrific. The atmosphere is great. A lot of them have been working together for 15 years, but they’ve really treated me like a part of the team.

Is it mostly crowd-work during the warm-ups?
It’s a lot of crowd-work. I’m out there 10-12 minutes a night. You’ve got some legal things you have to cover, cell phones and all that. But then I just go into the crowd and talk to people. And that’s what my stand-up’s become anyway. It’s a seamless transition. The main difference is that these are people who are not coming to see Jimmy Pardo. It can’t be as biting as a stand-up show, because it’s Conan’s name on the banner.

You mentioned that your traditional stand-up sets are now based on a lot of crowd work now. But I’ve I read that you decided to go into more of an improv direction onstage a long time ago.
As an open micer, I would improv quite a bit. I’d take a lot of chances. But once I started getting paid I thought I had to be a quote-unquote ‘comedian’ and thought, ‘I better stick to my set.’ And that was a mistake. I was tired of people telling me that I was the funniest guy they’d ever worked with off-stage. And people would say if I did onstage what I did off-stage, then I’d be great. And I didn’t really understand what they were saying for a while. I guess it was around ’93 that I decided to shift. I went back to taking chances, doing stream of consciousness stuff like Richard Lewis would do, and that helped me find my voice.

So before you found that voice, what was your relationship with stand-up?
I cut my teeth on a bunch of one-nighters in the Midwest. I’m sure those experiences made me a better comic. A lot of shit gigs with bachelorette parties in the front row. But one thing I regret: early on, I sort of chose to be a middle-act in the B-clubs as opposed to MC at the A-rooms. And I probably should have taken advantage of the chance to MC at the A-rooms more. Because I’d be working with better comics, better crowds. But I went with more of the middling in the B-rooms. I probably would have found my voice sooner had I MC’d at the A-rooms.

Have you done a lot of MCing as a comic since you have such a huge interest in hosting?
Well, in Chicago, I did host a lot of showcase nights, and I was good at it and enjoyed it. I tried to take a page out of Carson, making the show my own. Almost like a Jimmy Pardo & Friends. Like, ‘I’m hosting it and here’s six guys you’re gonna enjoy watching.’

What do you think makes a successful talk-show host?
Just being present. And there are some talk-show hosts who aren’t present, because they don’t know how to be in a conversation. They’re just thinking, “OK, when he’s done talking about his kid, I’ve got to ask him about the movie.” Johnny Carson, Letterman, Conan, these guys can be in a conversation, and if there’s something funny about kids, they’ll go with it and talk about kids for five minutes. Then at the end they’ll say that he’s in whatever movie, which I think is much more valuable to have a funny conversation like that than to have to talk about the experience on the set, just so you can plug a movie.

Is stand-up comedy in a good place right now?
When guys like Jay Leno were starting, there wasn’t a comedy club on every corner. They had a tough time in that respect. I started in the boom where I could work every night, making money or performing in front of a real crowd. I believe in hard work. Because even though I’m using the podcast as a marketing tool to an extent, I don’t really understand Twitter and MySpace. I think it’s easy to get a set out there and get noticed. And I sound like an old, pompous asshole when I say this, but my generation had to go out there and it had to be elbow grease.

An executive comes to you and says you can make whatever project you want. What would it be?
To that question, I’ve always said a talk-show, and I guess that’s still the case, but I’ve done some live game shows out in LA and do love the interactions with real people that a game show provides.

For more info, check out jimmypardo.com and the Never Not Funny site at pardcast.com.

Various Artists: Comedy by the Numbers

by John Delery

If comedy were a science, then maybe the Albert Einstein would have changed his name to Albert Brooks and been an ingenious funnyman instead of a brilliant physicist! (Or maybe he would have combined both professions and still invented the atomic bomb — a devastating weapon that obliterates cities and kills comedy careers.)

But there is no formula, hee-hee does not equal MC + Headliner (squared), the point of the often hilarious Comedy by the Numbers, an audio version of the deadpan, dead-on parody book of the same name by Eric Hoffman and Gary Rudoren.

An all-star team of comedians, including Matt Besser, David Cross, Zach Galifianakis, Janeane Garafalo, Andy Kindler, Jay Johnston, Bob Odenkirk, Brian Posehn, Greg Proops and Sarah Silverman, spends about an hour reciting, ripping and mocking the conventions of stand-up comedy at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre in Los Angeles.

The “Book-on-Tape CD” from ASpecialThing Records is funnier than a squirrel on water skis (which is Rule No. 1 of Comedy: Animals Doing Human Things Is Funny). And though hard to believe, it’s funnier than 100 U.S. Senators sitting on suppositories (Rule No. 104: Political jokes plus Rule No. 69: Medications and Their Side Effects).

Purchase Comedy by the Numbers at aspecialthing.com.

Video interview: A Tight Five with Paul F. Tompkins

by Dylan P. Gadino

This week on A Tight Five, I sit down with one of the industry’s most respected performers, Paul F. Tompkins. Our discussion goes everywhere from me issuing Paul an official apology on behalf of Punchline Magazine, why he’s such a snappy dresser and what his story-telling style of stand-up says about his personal life. Check it out and enjoy!

You can purchase Paul’s album Impersonal

Comedy Matters with Gabriel Iglesias, Colin Quinn, Jessica Biel

by Jeffrey Gurian

SEARCHING FOR JERRY SEINFELD

As many of you know, I’ve spent the better part of the last year, working with Comic Strip owner Richie Tienken on a book about the history of the club that launched the careers of superstars like Chris Rock, Larry Miller, George Wallace, Lewis Black, Paul Reiser and Jerry Seinfeld— to name just a few.

We’re aiming for the book to come out in time for the 35th anniversary of the club next June. So far we’ve been able to interview over 25 of the top stars including the ones mentioned, all except for Jerry Seinfeld. For some unknown reason, we haven’t been able to reach Jerry, although we’ve tried through at least five of his best friends, all to no avail.

Jerry Seinfeld and I at the Comedy at the Edge book party

No one says why, but Jerry doesn’t get in touch, despite the fact that he’s been in other books during this time, and The Strip was Jerry’s “home club” where he got his start, and where hung out all the time.

Tienken was starting to worry that Jerry had some reason he didn’t want to take part in the project, or had something against him or the club, until he read a very recent newspaper article about a new book where 75 celebs tell about their “Favorite Place On Earth.”

Seinfeld’s quote was, “When I first moved to Manhattan from Long Island as a young man, I worked mostly at The Comic Strip. The club had a softball team. We played in Central Park at Heckscher Field. It was such a fantasy! First to be a comedian, and to be a part of this nightclub. Second we were playing in Central Park.”

As a matter of fact, when I interviewed George Wallace for the book, George remembered that it was Tienken himself who took both George and Jerry, (who were always best friends and inseparable in those days,) to their very first Yankees game.

Tienken, who has undergone a severe health crisis recently, very much wants Seinfeld to be part of this book, since so much of it is about him anyway. So if any of you know Jerry, or are in touch with him, please let him know that Richie would welcome a call from him, if nothing else than to reminisce about old times.

A deal with producers Abby Russell, and Brent Sterling Nemetz of Letterbox Pictures, was also just signed for us to do a documentary film, in conjunction with the book, also on the history of The Strip. More on that in an upcoming column.

I walked into The Strip one night, went into Richie’s little private office and who was there but Fetteroff Colin, Eddie Murphy’s assistant, and a great, great guy. He introduces me to a guy he’s with named Taimak, and I almost hit the floor.

Taimak and I at The Comic Strip.

Taimak is a martial arts expert and actor who starred in Berry Gordy’s hit martial arts film The Last Dragon back in the 80’s. That’s when I first met him with my dear friend High Voltage, the Energy Queen, and fitness guru to the stars.

I hadn’t seen him in that many years, but I was so impressed with him that I used his name in a screenplay I wrote called Men of Violence, which is currently being read by producers all over the world, thanks to the magic of the Cannes Film festival. It was amazing to meet him again, and to be able to tell him about the script. It would be even more amazing if it gets made and he winds up being in it. More on that later!

GOTHAM HAPPENINGS

Lots of action at Gotham, but nothing unusual about that. I went down to see Colin Quinn, who is an old friend and who I absolutely love, (not that way!), and was thrilled to see him looking so healthy. He must have lost 40 pounds since I saw him last, and just like Artie Lange, the weight loss agrees with him; plus he was funnier than ever.

Ryan Reese was the reliable MC, reliable in the sense that he’s always funny, and good at warming up the crowd. Then Jim Mendrinos came out and did his thing, and Jim not only heads up the NYC Underground Comedy Festival, but is very highly respected amongst other comics, like Chris Rock. Chris referenced Mendrinos in a complimentary way many times during his interview for the book, and it was completely unsolicited. Maureen Langan also performed, and was honest enough to say, “I don’t care if a woman is prettier or thinner than me, but she shouldn’t be both!” Great line.

Me and the newly thin Colin Quinn! (It even rhymes!)

Colin who is a master of examining the most mundane things, and boiling them down to their essence, asked if you ever had the experience of telling someone something you thought was very important, and right in the middle they ask you something totally unrelated to what you’re telling them.

He said Jim Norton once did that to him. He was telling him something personal and Jim interrupted with ‘Do you still have a pool in your building?’ When he told him he was rude, Norton said he just wanted to get back into his swimming routine, and seeing Colin reminded him of that! Colin on reality TV shows like Ice Road Truckers: “people come home from work, turn on the TV and watch other people work!”

I went back a week later to catch Greg Giraldo. He had Marion Grodin and Jesse Joyce on the bill with him, both of whom I think are very talented.

Greg tells the story of being on the subway and hearing some guy on one side of the platform yell out to a girl on the other side of the platform, ‘Yo Monica, you got AIDS,’ and wondering, “Is that how they tell you? They hire some Puerto Rican kid to yell out to you. Yo Greg, your cholesterol is high son!” “Thanks Edgar!”

Greg Giraldo hanging at Gotham

And in thinking about our kids and the problems they face today he wonders, “When did the peanut become the most dangerous substance known to man?”

I popped in one night to see the great Irish comic Tommy Tiernan who came with his very own Letterman booker, Eddie Brill. Eddie is so careful about who gets on Letterman, and what they do when they’re on there, that he goes with the act to see the set they are planning on doing. That’s real dedication to your job!

Tommy Tiernan and Eddie Brill at Gotham

Then I went to catch LA comic Gabriel Iglesias, who I hadn’t seen since the Latino Comedy Festival in LA. That must have been a year and a half ago, and the first thing he said when he saw me was, “You still have your big pen?”

I couldn’t believe he remembered that. I guess it’s more shocking than I thought! The big 12” pen was a gift from someone special and I carry it with me all the time. Girls often ask me, “Where did you pull that out of?” No one can believe it fits into my jacket pocket. Personally, I think it’s important for a writer to have a big pen. I’ll leave it at that!

Gabriel Iglesias absolutely shocked at the size of my huge pen!

Gabriel is the nicest guy in the world, and I’m really happy for all of his “fluffy” success. Just on being introduced, he got such incredible applause. The audience loves him. Like when Artie Lange gets a standing “O” just for coming out on stage.

Gabriel described the five levels of fatness, and came up with a sixth. There’s big, healthy, husky, fluffy (his level!), and “Damn!!!” The newest one is “ Hell no!” which is accompanied by a roar like you’d get from a T-Rex. Gabriel has a girlfriend with a 10-year old stepson, and he and Gabriel are very close. The little boy said to him one day, “I want my last name to be Iglesias” at which point the girlfriend popped her head into the room and said, “Me too!”

Opening for him were two other comics of Mexican descent. Martin Moreno and Noe Gonzalez, both of whom were hysterical. Noe had one of the best observations I ever heard. Talking about ethnic groups and their pets he said, “I never saw a black guy with a cat.” “Yo Boots, get over here!”

Martin Moreno and Noe Gonzalez at Gotham

COMEDY MATTERS QUICKIES

Brett Eidman’s one man show, which I co-wrote and directed, entitled Brett Eidman: One Angry Man opened for two sold out previews at the Roy Arias Theatre on West 43rd Street, and we are examining the DVD’s to see what needs tweaking before moving it to a larger venue.

Meanwhile, it got a nice review on the David Letterman show website, which you can see here. The reviewer was in the audience and we didn’t even know! That’s a nice surprise!

Brett Eidman and I on stage at The Roy Arias Theatre

I popped into Kelly (Real Housewives of New York) Bensimon’s birthday party at Danny Kane’s new hot club “The Gates.” I brought Ken Salaz with me, who is half of The Unseen, a new two man mentalist group I first saw at Gotham, and am crazy about. The other half is Oz Pearlman. I thought Ken would astonish Kelly, and then I’d call Richard Johnson from Page 6 and tell him all about it. Imagine my surprise to walk in and find Richard actually at the party! Everyone wants Richard to attend their parties, but it’s very rare to actually see him anywhere.

Ken Salaz in the midst of astonishing Kelly Bensimon

I brought Ken over to meet him, and had him blow Richard and his wife away with impossible things for about 15 minutes. The kicker was it didn’t wind up on Page 6, which just goes to show you that even if Richard is with you, it’s still hard to get on Page 6. I don’t know who’s power is more astonishing, The Unseen, or Richard Johnson. The Unseen can make things disappear. Richard can make a person “appear,” … just by being in his column! I’m grateful for every Page 6 mention I’ve ever had.

Me, Ken Salaz and Richard Johnson

The Unseen were recently on both NBC and CBS’s Early Show. On CBS, in one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen, Ken asked host Erica Hill, to think of something she liked to drink. He took out a pad and drew a bottle of red wine. She was duly astonished. Then he took it a step further, and drew the exact type of red wine, and then took it miles further when he crumpled up the paper and out of it came the actual bottle of red wine she was thinking about.

I saw him do it the day before in Central Park when NBC producer Julie Mayes was shooting them for a segment, and he manifested a bottle of Strawberry Snapple out of thin air. It’s not even possible, but he did it! The Unseen can be seen on June 25th in a big show in the main room at Gotham. Call (212) 367-9000 for tickets!

Oz Pearlman, NBC producer Julie Mayes and Ken Salaz in Central Park

The last short piece is about an event I attended with Joey “Pants” Pantoliano, possibly known best for playing psychopathic killer Ralph Cifaretto on The Sopranos. When he grabbed me by the throat I thought he was re-enacting a scene from The Sopranos. Imagine my surprise when I saw the photo and realized he was just giving me a kiss! I’m lucky it wasn’t “the kiss of death”!

Joey “Pants” expressing his Soprano-like affection for me!

I GO TO CANNES

Every so often I challenge myself to make sure I can do things the rest of the world can do. Going to the South of France to attend the Cannes Film Festival was one of those special challenges, made a little bit easier by the fact that my new short animated comedy film, All The News That’s Fit To Dance To was being shown in the Cannes Short Film Corner.

ATNTFTDT includes four separate news stories, “Smithsonian Displays George Washington’s Wooden Pants”, “Man With Infant’s Head Sues For Discrimination”, “Man Robs Bank With His Chin”, and that classic, “College Professor Fired For Casually Removing His Spine.” The operative word there is “casual” because you just can’t do that. You can’t remove your spine at will. Especially not in class, and expect the students to help reinsert it.

So unsurprisingly, Cannes was amazing. I met tons of producers from all over the world, (they weigh producers by the ton in Europe!), who are willing to read my scripts, which is a wonderful thing, plus I got to go to special parties and meet pretty girls! I had never been to a party before so that was pretty exciting for me! Honestly, I did go to a party once before. It was the night I stayed out late, and I swore I’d never do that again!

From left – Tanja, Me (who is not in the group), Elisa, Nelly, and Jasmine, make up Jameerah.

At a private club called Terrazza Martini I got to meet the all girl rock band Jameerah that’s currently taking Europe by storm, (which is a strange way to take anyplace!) Each girl comes from another country. Jasmine is from The Netherlands, Elisa is from Italy, Nelly is from Germany, and Tanja is from Belgium. I came directly from my room! You can check them out at jameerah.com.

JESSICA BIEL MIXES BEAUTY WITH HUMOR

You don’t have to do stand-up comedy to be considered funny, especially if you look like Jessica Biel. But beauty and comedy are usually hard to come by combined in the same person. Not in Jessica’s case! I, like many others, fell for Jessica in The Illusionist. You’ll feel the same way when you see her in Easy Virtue, her newest film with Colin Firth, Kristin Scott Thomas, and Ben Barnes. As Larita, she brings a comedic lightness to her part that just automatically draws you to her. She marries into a family where the mother-in-law, (Thomas) is a stuck-up old biddy, and hates Jessica for her warm, fun-loving personality. At the end, Jessica leaves her young “momma’s-boy” husband, (Barnes), and winds up with his Dad, (Firth) which felt just perfect to me!

Jessica Biel and I at The Regency Hotel

Jessica says she could never do stand-up, but she played a sexy lawyer in “I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry” with Adam Sandler and Kevin James, and recently finished a starring role in a new comedy called “Nailed” with Jake Gyllenhaal, about a waitress who accidentally gets a nail lodged in her head causing unpredictable sexual behavior.

Sounds like an interesting premise, and adds new meaning to the phrase “she got nailed!” And with all due respect, I know plenty of guys besides Justin Timberlake who would like to “nail” her!

Anyway, until next time, remember, … COMEDY MATTERS!!!

Joe Rogan: Comedy evolving

by Emma Kat Richardson

Joe Rogan has never been one to shy away from controversy. In fact, at times it seemed like he was looking for it. But with his new hour-long special on Spike, Talking Monkeys in Outer Space, it’s clear Rogan is back to prove what stand-up lovers always knew– he’s one of the most skilled comics in the world.

A comedian’s natural evolution, both in material and performance, is paramount to his or her ability to survive in the comedic biosphere. Far too many less-than worthy comics have suffered a dodo bird-like fate at the hands of audience-oriented natural selection, and no one is more aware of this fact than Joe Rogan.

Although mainstream watchers might immediately associate the 41-year old club vet with short-term gigs as an electrician on the ‘90s cult classic Newsradio and as the host of Fear Factor, Rogan’s got his posable thumbs firmly wrapped around a comedic base.

With his hour long stand-up special, Talking Monkeys in Space (premiering Saturday, June 20 on Spike), the energetic lothario checks in with Punchline Magazine to discuss his biggest fears, his recent initiation into fatherhood, and, of course, the merits of evolution.

Your new special, Talking Monkeys in Space, deals a lot with evolutionary themes. Do you think this reflects on your personal evolution as a stand-up comedian?
Well, I don’t know if it reflects on it. I think the set as a whole, in comparison to my previous work, reflects on my evolution. As an artist and as a human being, you should probably always be evolving; I think that as I’ve gone on in life, I’ve changed and evolved in life and in comedy as well.

What exactly is the significance of the title?
‘Talking monkeys in space’ is just my way of describing human beings.

You recently became a father. Has this played any sort of role in your comedy?
Yeah, definitely. It certainly makes a big difference; you know, it’s another aspect of life. It opens up new doors in your mind and new levels of perception, new levels of awareness. It makes you just appreciate things in a way that you really never could. It’s an experience you could never understand unless you had it— unless you’re living it.

And that translates directly into your comedy?
I think everything does. What stand-up comedy basically is this: ‘Here’s the world through my eyes.’ The more you enhance that perspective and the more experiences you have, the better the comedy gets.

Now that you have a kid, do you think you might go the Eddie Murphy route and transition from edgy stand-up to more family-oriented films?
You know what? I’m not opposed to doing a role in a film – a kid’s movie, or something like that – but I’m certainly not going to change my stand-up. What’s going to change out of my stand-up is that my material will change just because of the natural course of evolution, certainly not because I feel that I have to do some family-friendly entertainment now. I’ve never really been interested in family-friendly comedy myself.

As the former host of Fear Factor, I’ve always wanted to know what you’re most afraid of.
I don’t think I have one thing that I’m most afraid of. I think normal stuff. Monsters.

Boogeymen?
Exactly.

How does stand-up differ from acting or hosting gigs? Do the benefits of one outweigh the other?
Well, acting and hosting gigs are really just jobs. It’s a really cool job; it’s no different from working as a bartender, except it’s just really cool. If I were given a choice to act or host Fear Factor for free, I would probably say no. Stand-up comedy I’ve done for free many, many times. Stand-up comedy is a real artistic pursuit for me, whereas hosting Fear Factor especially, and Newsradio as well, were just jobs. They were great jobs, but just jobs; stand-up comedy is more a part of who I am and more of an art form to me.

Did you ever take away anything from these jobs, as far as your stand-up career goes, or were you always able to maintain an emotional distance from them?
They definitely helped me in a way, because, first of all, it made more people aware of me and got more people to come out and see me in the clubs. There’s that aspect of it; that definitely helped. And I think it also helps because it’s just more experiences, more things in your life: I think the more varied experiences you have in your life, the better you become as a comic.

You have a background in martial arts. How did you make the transition from fighting to stand-up?
A lot of it was luck, you know? I was just talked into doing stand-up by my friends. I thought that they thought I was funny because they were my friends. I was like, ‘You guys think I’m funny because you like me, but other people are going to think I’m an asshole.’ To me, it was a weird transition, especially at first, but once I started doing comedy, I noticed that stand-up comedy and martial arts have a lot in common, in that they both center around truth.

They both require brutal honesty: with martial arts, you have to be brutally honest about your abilities in competition – about what you’re capable of, what your strengths and weaknesses are, what you focus on – and with comedy, you certainly have to be brutally honest with yourself. You have to be brutally honest about your performances; you have to be brutally honest about your writing. It’s either good or it’s not. There’s no getting around it. If people laugh, they laugh, and if they don’t, you’ve got nothing.

Would you say there’s something of a natural kinship between making people laugh and making them bleed?
[Laughs] I wouldn’t go as far as that, but I think there’s definitely a natural kinship in the performance of it, from the point of pursuing it. Both are art forms. Martial arts really and truly are an art form. It’s a performance art form, and if you’re really experienced as a martial artist, you can really appreciate someone who’s good at martial arts; it’s a beautiful thing to behold. That’s the same with stand-up comedy. Comedy is really an art form as well. From the point of view of the person performing these two different arts, they’re really similar in that way. They’re both art forms, and they both require a certain amount of discipline. However, from the point of view of the person on the receiving end of it, it’s way nicer to laugh than it is to get cut.

Your stand-up has always boasted a lot of kinetic energy. Another bi-product from martial arts perhaps?
I think that you have to appreciate people’s attention spans. I think that’s a really big part of it. You have to understand that these people watching you in the audience are folks that are just like you. They have their own thoughts and their own views, and in order for you to capture their minds, you have to be bringing a lot of effort and a lot of energy. You truly have to have something to say. I think that’s a very, very important aspect of performance that sometimes people ignore, especially once they’ve been doing it for a long time and they’ve got a large following; they can take that for granted.

What one thing you would want your daughter to take away from your comedy, once she’s old enough to appreciate it?
One thing? Honesty: both honesty to yourself and honesty to other people, and that is probably one of the most important things you can ever learn as a human being. If there was one thing I would want her to get from my career, it would be that.

What do the next 10 years hold for you?
Who knows? If I pretended I knew the truth, that would be silly. I could get hit in the head with a meteor as soon as I stop talking to you. What would I like to do? More of the same. I’m just happy living my life, enjoying myself, having fun with my friends, pursuing my interests, and I’m just generally enjoying myself. That’s basically it.

For more info on Joe, check out joerogan.net.

Video interview: A Tight Five with Steven Wright

by Punchline Magazine

In a very special episode of A Tight Five, we sit down with comedy legend Steven Wright. Fresh off the heels of his re-released classic first album I Have a Pony — his first HBO special is also included — and a Letterman appearance, Wright opened up about hunting for change to get to his early gigs, how he constructs a 90-minute set of one-liners and much more. Check it out.

A Tight Five is a co-production between Punchline Magazine and Rooftop Comedy and is always filmed at Comix in New York City. For more episodes, please visit atight5.com.

Daniel Tosh: Comedy on the attack

by Dylan P. Gadino

With the premiere last week of his new Comedy Central show Tosh.0 (Thursdays at 10 pm), comedian Daniel Tosh has become kind of a big deal. It’s about time the world knows what we’ve known about him for years.

Beyond becoming one of the nation’s most sought after stand-up comedian, Daniel Tosh has become known to comedy nerds as one of the most caustic, bitter-seeming stand-ups on the scene.

And it’s not that his material is soaked with F-bombs. No, Tosh has been able to make audience members cringe — and laugh — with little more than his tone, disregard for human feelings and honesty. We submit this bit as evidence:

“Am I the only person who hopes New Orleans gets nailed again this year?” Tosh begins in a but from a few years ago. “Let’s spend billions of dollars rebuilding a city that’s below sea level. That’s a genius idea.  I say cit our losses and finish the job, Lord…”

“If any city in this country needed a bath, it was New Orleans. Cajuns are dirty. That’s a fact. That’s French and Redneck merging. That’s a hygiene combination no antiperspirant can tackle.”

So it’s no surprise that the new show Tosh helms, Tosh.0 on Comedy Central, the lanky comedian is charged with poking holes in the unfortunate participants of the country’s more popular viral videos. Think of it like American’s Funniest Home Videos, except that the host hates the world.

Punchline Magazine recently chatted with Tosh about his attitude, the state of stand-up comedy and much more.

I last interviewed you in the summer of 2005. What’s been the biggest change in your life since then?
I haven’t written a new joke yet but I’m waiting for that wave of inspiration to hit me. Listen, my life is not bad. But I’m kinda a half-empty type of person— this whole process of show business? I didn’t sign up for a lifetime of work. It’s like, let’s get going; get me famous and then I can turn into an asshole. That’s kind of the game plan.

You mean you’re not an asshole now?
Oh my god. That’s so mean spirited. In the eye of the beholder, I’d like to crank it up a notch or two. I am working with a lot of my friends on this show, who I do not think are talented. So what kind of an asshole jeopardizes his one opportunity to have his own show by putting his friends on it, who clearly should not be hired anywhere. My openers love me. I’m really nice to them.

What does ‘work’ mean for you at the Tosh.0 offices?
A lot of meaningless meetings— like ‘Hey, what do you think of lighting the stage more?’ I get up around eight in the morning and I get to the office around 9:30 or 10. I’m usually the last one here, which I think is a good sign. We sit in the writers room and watch horrible clips all day long on the Internet— things we find somewhat amusing. And then we try to find ways to make them relevant so it’s not America’s Funniest Home Videos.

I’m kind of new at this. I don’t sit in an office all day long. First of all, it’s awful. And then I usually work until seven at night and then I’m like, ‘Oh, now it’s time to do stand-up.’ I’m fine. I’m a few weeks into this and I’m ready to quit. I didn’t sign up for this workload.

How would you spend your days before you had to work on Tosh.0?
I used to spend my days complaining to my managers and agents asking them ‘Why can’t I get a fucking TV show? I’m dying to work!’ That’s exactly what I spent my whole day doing.

And now you’re dying not to work?
No, I’m happy. I’m glad to be here. It’s just now reaching out to people and the comedy community that has shot any type of shorts. We’re bringing them really short— like in the 30 second to minute range. They can submit them to the show. It’s a very artist friendly show. We’re not trying to own anything. It’s all the original artists. Whoever shoots it, it’s their stuff. We can give them a place where people can see the stuff on television.

Is Tosh.0 the type of show where you can totally be yourself— or do you have to dial it down a bit?
I don’t think I’m going to have to dial it down too much. It’s obviously a different format. So I guess if and when I get extremely comfortable, I assume my tone will read through. But that’s not to say that someone couldn’t watch it and be like, ‘Oh this is painful. Why don’t you say what you normally say?’ That might be the case. I don’t feel like anyone’s asking me to dial it down. It’s Comedy Central. They don’t care, do they?

I don’t know. I don’t work there.
I should really get on the phone more often with people there.

You make a nasty comment about Carlos Mencia in the unofficial pilot I saw.
Yeah, we’ll see what Comedy Central let me take the piss out of. I’m trying to get Dave Chappelle to come on the show to tell me why I shouldn’t work for Comedy Central.

Since you’re now charged with scouring the Internet and making fun of it every week for Tosh.0, I’d be interested to know what sites you frequent outside of what’s needed for work.
It’s between Punchline Magazine and Perez, all day long. And I find it appropriate that there’s a lot less jizz on your site.

Sadly, I’m usually checking a lot sports websites and trying to find a great spread on a game where I can lose a lot of money and get very angry. Besides YouTube and Break.com and everything else, I don’t know. I don’t frequent porn, which I’m told from a lot of the writers is very odd. I’m not familiar with nearly enough porn that’s out there.

And why is that?
I don’t know. I guess I should. I guess I just didn’t know. I prefer the old school stuff, like magazines. But I had no idea baseball bats can be used for all sorts of fun stuff. Thanks, Belladonna.

Do you ever get sick of talking about yourself during interviews?
Yes, of course. It’s completely obnoxious. But I guess it beats talking to my friends about their problems. God, is that draining.

How would you describe the state of the national stand-up comedy scene?
It’s strong. When people ask me who I think is funny, I start thinking of people— and the list goes forever. And I’m really aware that there’s tons of new people out there that I’ve never listened to simply because, as you know, listening to bad stand-up can ruin it for the one gem you find. But I know there’s people out there that are incredible. So no, why wouldn’t it be strong? The clubs are good. It seems like there’s plenty of places to perform. I’m happy with the scene.

Are there solid plans to follow up your first hour special, Completely Serious, with another?
I’ll be touring and hopefully I’ll have a new hour special this year. Hopefully, I actually get off my ass and film it. I was supposed to do it last year, and I just bailed. It’ll be surely recorded by the end of this year. How quick it airs, I assume depends on my popularity over at Comedy Central. I don’t know where I should film it. Where would you like me to film it?

I would like you to film it in New York City since that’s where I am.
I would like to do it in New York but the problem with New York and filming a special there is that it’s crazy expensive. The Teamsters and unions and renting a theater it’s just so, so expensive. And it’s almost not worth it to attempt it.

How about the Trocadero in Philly?
I don’t know. I’m too scared that Philly will have a sports game that night and the team will be good out of nowhere and next thing I know, attendance is none.

You have some options.
Well, keep it in the back of your mind. And if you think of someplace like, ‘Hey, no one has done a special here and this might be cool.’ I’m all for stealing your idea.

For more info on Daniel, check out danieltosh.com. To submit videos to Tosh.0, check out the show’s official site.

Matt Kirshen: I Guess We’ll Never Know

by Daniel Perlman

There are many stand-up comics who are funny, but not exactly made-for-TV. Some comics have the likability for television, but might be a bit lacking in terms of quality humor. Few possess both traits. Enter Matt Kirshen, the 29-year-old comic who looks 16 (“I can go outside, expose myself to strangers, and they get arrested”).

His affable demeanor and good-natured delivery give him leeway to tackle a host of issues in his debut album, I Guess We’ll Never Know.

Kirshen, a British Jew, was first introduced to American comedy fans as a finalist on Last Comic Standing. During his set, he talks to the Minneapolis crowd about some of his experiences adjusting to life as an occasionally-recognizable figure. Hint: it’s more embarrassing when you’re recognized by a fan while trying to solicit cheese fries from a stranger at a drive-thru. He’s also found himself signing autographs for a Texas man on a Guns & Ammo Magazine, or as Kirshen calls it, “Texan Porn”.

Kirshen successfully navigates a range of material in his hour-long performance, poking fun at Plague-infected children, creationism, and pedophilia. Yet he always manages to keep it light for the Midwest crowd, joking about everything from nut allergies to people’s views of medicine.

I Guess We’ll Never Know features well-written material of classic observational and longer storytelling style. One thing we’ll know soon enough: whether Kirshen becomes the next great comedy export from across the pond.

Click the graphic below to purchase Matt Kirshen’s I Guess We’ll Never Know.

Anthony Jeselnik: Comedy with a side of evil

by Punchline Magazine

Having found himself on best up and coming comedian lists as well as in a staff writing position for Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, Anthony Jeselnik is quickly becoming the comic to watch in 2009.

“How soon after Patrick Swayze dies do you think Whoopi Goldberg will wait before she calls up Demi Moore just to fuck with her,” may be seen as a shocking question and ultimately taboo by some comedians’ standards, not to mention pedestrian visitors, but to Anthony Jeselnik, it makes for fresh, but incredibly perishable material.

Onstage during a recent set, Jeselnik — ranked first among emerging comedians on AskMen.com — says, “I’m just glad Natasha Richardson isn’t around to see this. If you ever want to turn someone against you, say what I just said.”

At 6-foot-2, with his no-limits style, Cheshire Cat grin and unmistakable swagger, Jeselnik, has made quite a few enemies, though the greater majority of the crowd are fans, as the typical response is uproarious laughter.

He detests the term “too soon,” a contemporary comedy club cliché and commentary on any typically distasteful joke about some well-known tragedy soon after its occurrence.

But according to Jeselnik, for those type of jokes, if they’re not told immediately, the joke’s impact and meaning deflates. “I’ve got a too-soon in my back pocket for you guys,” he says onstage. “Don’t you worry.”

The Pittsburgh native stands seemingly unassuming before his set, trusty PBR in hand as though a casual observer while his darkly sharp mind analyzes his surroundings to create outrageous and, sometimes even to regulars, unexpected commentary – with enough inherent macabre to turn a Disney musical into a Victor Hugo-esque masterpiece.

Jeselnik, 30, has been a monologue writer on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon since its debut on March 2, even providing its first stand-up act. He earned his comedic stripes by writing for such comedians as Jimmy Kimmel and Sarah Silverman; he’s even at least partly responsible for the latter’s 1997 quip about Britney Spears at the MTV Video Music Awards. Remember this? “Wow. She is amazing,”Silverman said about Spears. “She is 25-years-old and she’s already accomplished everything she’s going to accomplish in her life. It’s mind blowing! Have you seen Britney’s kids? Oh my god, they are the most adorable mistakes you will ever see! They are as cute as the hairless vagina they came out of.”

Not one to disappoint by regurgitating washed-up standards, Jeselnik tries to keep his routine original. Instead of belittling himself like many of his comic brethren, he instead opts to augment his perceived persona. “I was nervous when I started and it was easy to hide the nervousness behind being kind of deadpan,” says the Jack Handy fan. “I feel like when I walked on stage, people thought, ‘look at this tall, young kid.’ I didn’t want to be self-deprecating and talk about problems with women. I wanted to act like the person they thought I was – only multiply it times ten.”

Delivered in a remarkably smooth, baritone voice – with a tinge of depravity – the audience hungrily eats it up, though some are more bashful than others; at once, he’s a decadent secret and guilty pleasure.

But Jeselnik did not always aim to work in professional jocularity, contrary to what many would believe. His initial intent, upon graduating from Tulane with a degree in literature, was to be a novelist, but he moved to Los Angeles to pursue screen writing. “But I hated that so much. It was even worse than being a novelist,” says Jeselnik. “As soon as I got into comedy, I knew that that was it.”

A large portion of Jeselnik’s sets focus on crowd work, during which he effectively fences with hecklers while maintaining comedic integrity. “I’m not a crowd-pleaser by any means, but there’s always someone in the crowd who’ll say that I’m his favorite,” he says. With credits including Comedy Central Presents, Premium Blend and HBO’s Down and Dirty with Jim Norton, that particular theory has been effectively realized; he is among the favorite of quite a few.

For more info, check out anthonyjeselnik.com.

From the archives… Zach Galifianakis: He Tells a Joke. He Moves On.

by Punchline Magazine

(This story was originally published on Punchline Magazine in March, 2007)

By Benjamin Cake

In the past decade, stand-up comedian Zach Galifianakis has been inching forward with good jokes and bad movies (we won’t get started on the television shows). With the release of his new DVD, Live at the Purple Onion, people are beginning to take notice of his strange brilliance.

He tells a joke — something like “Have you seen this show on Lifetime about that woman? – And then there’s that look, that thousand-mile stare, his brow furrowed, his mouth pursed as if he just realized he forgot his mother’s birthday. It’s not the look you expect.

He tells another joke — something like “When you look like me, it’s hard to get a table for one at Chuck E. Cheese.”  The crowd laughs, and Zach closes his eyes. He lays his head on the piano, runs his hand through his hair. He seems weary, like each joke exhausts him, like he wants to be by himself. It’s almost like he’s trying not to engage the audience. But his deadpan reticence has the opposite effect; it brings you in closer– the same way Mitch Hedberg could bring you in closer by staring at the ground.

What’s he doing?

“I know what you’re talking about,”  Zach says. “But I don’t really know what that is. Maybe I’m basking in the awkwardness. But I think it’s sort of like, There’s a joke. Accept it if you want to. I’ll wait and then move on.”

That makes sense. In his pursuit of humor, Zach goes to great lengths: At a recent show at Irving Plaza in New York City, he stripped off his clothes to reveal a Little Orphan Annie costume, in which he lip-synched “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow” while shuffling through written jokes on a drawing pad like “I call my balls the Bush twins.” But despite this willingness to go all out, he doesn’t pander; his act can be seen as a testament to courage, not desperation– a willingness to try anything and disregard failure.

Patton Oswalt, who included Zach in the Comedians of Comedy productions, has said: “Zach is probably the least needy of all of us. It’s not so much that he’s in his own world, but he’s so formed in what he thinks is funny. It’s almost like a guy who is so comfortable in what he’s doing that it naturally draws people in.”

Perhaps this resolve is the result of years spent struggling in New York, where he got his start in the back of Hamburger Harry’s, a small place on West Forty-Fifth street. He spent years bombing with jokes like A girl told me I could sleep on her futon. I’ll tell you what I told her: I don’t sleep on anything that rhymes with crouton. On good days, he’d make fifteen dollars for a set, five of which would go toward rent, three toward two forty-ounce bottles of beer, and the rest toward food. On the side, Zach worked as a busboy in a strip club. He also worked as a nanny for a child that demanded things by threatening to fabricate stories of how Zach molested him.

Through all of this, Zach told jokes, let people accept them if they wanted, and then moved on. After a few years, he moved on to Los Angeles, got a part in Boston Common, got a few parts in bad movies, moved on, kept telling jokes.

The moving-on part is key. Although many well-known comics are happy to coast through with the jokes they’ve been using since 1992, Zach refuses. “If a joke has been seen on television or wherever,” he says. “I won’t do it as much– or at all.”

Instead, Zach writes new material — on napkins and matchbooks — and at the end of the day he empties his pockets and arranges what he’s going to try out.

Two weeks prior to the Irving Plaza show, he gets an idea while waiting for a train from Brooklyn to Manhattan. “It’s so dumb,” he says. “The train was late this morning, and I felt this urge to yell out to all these hipster kids in Williamsburg — just yell out like a little kid — “The choo choo is coming!” Maybe I’ll do that. I don’t know.”

When he tells you about it, you’re not sure how it’s a even a joke. You have your doubts. But sure enough, partway through the Irving Plaza show, he begins, “Sometimes when I’m waiting for the train – and you know what’s coming. You’re even a little nervous about it as he describes seeing the first glint of light from the headlamps down the tunnel. “Here comes the choo choo!” he shouts. The voice is more a cartoonish hillbilly than a little kid. And he grabs his penis when he shouts it — to show just how exciting the train is.

It works. Heads in the crowd tilt backward almost in unison, cawing their amusement to the rafters. Three girls in the VIP balcony exchange looks as they shriek with laughter. The stone-faced security guard by the door smiles and shakes his head — as if he doesn’t want to think it’s funny but can’t help himself.

Of course, not everything works. At a recent show in Los Angeles, a comment Zach made provoked audience members to throw ice cubes at him: “I was kowtowing to this one table,” Zach says. “And they were eating it up. And I’m not going to tell you what I said, but basically right after I’d won them over, I turned it around and said something completely horrible. So they started throwing ice cubes at me.”

Either way, he tells a joke, lets you accept it if you want, and then moves on.

In addition to his consistent willingness to try new material, Zach also enjoys interviewing members of the crowd. “It’s much more interesting to go off the written material,” he says. “It’s kind of selfish, but that’s what I enjoy doing.” The without-a-net openness of this kind of interaction yields moments of brilliance as well as tormenting awkwardness. In his new DVD, Live at the Purple Onion, you see both kinds of moments.

Of the DVD, Zach says, “I wanted to capture a more typical show. I wanted something less polished. Although I’m never polished anyway.” To this degree, the DVD is a success; there is nothing polished or sterile about it. Zach doesn’t “vomit out jokes” the way he said he had to with his Comedy Central Presents performance from 2001. Instead, the shows, which contain a balance of recent material and typical crowd interaction, are broken up with footage of Zach offstage. There’s a scene in which he’s introduced to perform while he’s still at a restaurant down the street; there’s a scene in which his van breaks down. You get a full glimpse of Zach’s disheveled charm.

But there is also a more sobering side to the presentation, signs of premature deterioration. Zach has gotten fat. When he takes off his sport coat during a performance, his polo shirt resembles a trash bag filled with sand. You have to wonder if he’s at risk for diabetes. He jokes about it: “Great shirt selection,” he says, pointing toward his sagging torso. “I went to the shirt store and asked, ‘Do you have anything to highlight my alcoholism?’” The crowd laughs, but you have to wonder, especially as the DVD continues and there’s scene after scene of him drinking beer, then wine and empty glasses of various shapes and sizes on the piano. At the Irving Plaza show, he alternates between a glass tumbler, a wine glass, and a coffee mug.

There are moments in the DVD when the crowd work drags on. The more it does, the more he begins to insert self-conscious narration. He assumes the voice of a viewer, “Yeah, we went and saw Zach. It was good at first, but I don’t know he’s losing his fucking mind.” Then there’s a cut to a scene in which he comments on the precariousness of his sanity, the “fragility of the human psyche.” You have to admire his decision to include this footage. It makes the DVD more complex –gives it the feeling of a documentary rather than some kind of effete greatest-hits compilation. There is a powerful authenticity to it.

Also edited into the mix are clips of an interview that NPR’s Brian Unger conducts with Zach’s twin brother, Seth. To create this character, Zach shaves his beard into a mustache and takes on the persona of an effeminate high school football coach and youth minister from the South. He’s great at it because he’s been playing the character for over 20 years. “Me and my friends growing up would all do these Southern effeminate guys,” he says. “There’s something funny about it because Southern culture is emasculated in a lot of ways. I used to do that character all the time for my dad, and he would just laugh.”

In high school, Zach developed the character even further, into an effeminate racist. “There was this black guy named Antoinne in my art class, and I used to do it for him, and he told his friends to bump me in the hallway. So they would bump me in the hallway to release this character, and I would go on this diatribe with the black kids about black people, and they would just die laughing because they knew I was making fun of the rednecks we were surrounded by.”

When asked why he thinks the character gets such a warm response, he says, “There’s something funny about someone who’s effeminate and who has probably been made fun of and been discriminated against to go and discriminate against other people for their differences. It’s such a weird, layered juxtaposition.”

The majority of Zach’s characters seem to spring from this fascination with juxtaposition, with how opposing motivations and insecurities can create absurd, conflicting behaviors within a person’s identity. He has the Timid Pimp, the Pretentious Illiterate, the Self-deprecating Nuclear Physicist.

On a greater scale, paradox is a theme that runs through his whole act: the way he pairs a joke like “My grandma treats me like a rock star — I guess that’s why she let’s me sign her tits” with grave vamping on the piano; the way he finishes each joke with that vacant stare; the way he can lip-synch “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow” while shuffling through a joke like “I hope Dick Cheney’s faggot daughter gives birth to a faggot daughter.”

And this extends even further, to Zach’s own conflicting intricacies — intricacies you’ll never understand: There is nothing simple about the way the crassness of his humor doesn’t flush with the number of references he makes to his family, the stories that involve him telling jokes to his dad or putting on performances with his cousins in his hometown of 2,000 people.

In the same way, it’s difficult to reconcile the knotty logic of statements like “If people really like me, I like to turn on them.”

At another point, Zach says, “When my friends bomb, it’s one of the greatest things. I love to watch.” But then he moves on to describing his close friendship with a 92-year-old man named Albert: “He built this one-man band and would come over and entertain me. He’s done the Jimmy Kimmel show with me. HeÃ’s 92 and feisty and very touchy-feely with women. But he’s just the greatest to have around.”

It seems as though Zach’s always trying to fight the momentum of situations –hedging the ebb and flow — by turning his back on the obvious, easy things and pursuing avenues he’s not sure about.

After the New York City show, Zach is backstage drinking wine when fellow comedian Eugene Mirman stumbles into the room and says, “That was really, really amazing.”

“Thanks,” Zach says. “We’re gonna go drinking later,” and then he points to the back room. “Everybody’s back there.”

Eugene picks up on the fact that he’s interrupting an interview and says, “Yeah, we’re gonna go in there.” But then he lingers a moment.

Zach says, “How long is it gonna take you to go back there?”

Eugene smiles. “Slightly too long,” he says, and then starts stroking Zach’s hair. “It was really good. Really funny. I’m proud of you. So, so proud.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zach says.

Eugene continues, “Proud of you.”

“All right, Eugene,” Zach says, swatting at Eugene’s hands.

Eugene steamrolls through Zach’s attempts to deflect him. “You made…you made

“You’re such a drunk,” Zach says.

Eugene goes to leave, but now Zach has thought of something. “I really took it to Dane Cook,” he says in a sarcastic way. (In the show, Zach had joked “I saw Employee of the Month the other day…it wasn’t as good as I thought it was gonna be.” Then he ended the show with a drawing board that read “Kill Dane Cook.”)

Eugene agrees. “Yeah, I hope he myspaces you”

Zach says, “I think he knows I do that bit, ” cause I met him and he was like ‘So, we officially meet.’”

“Really?” Eugene says, “He talks like Darth Vader?”

“Yeah,” Zach says. “He does. And he has the same skin as Edward James Olmos.”

Eugene doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have anything malicious enough to trump that. He stammers, “Uh, well. Let me–”

Zach lays it out there again, slower, “Edward. James. Olmos.”

“Okay,” Eugene says. “Sure. Good luck.”

Zach says, “All right, Eugene. Hey, do you want to sit in on the interview?”

“No no,” Eugene says, and then goes into the back room.

The second time he says “Edward James Olmos,” Zach looks for recognition. You could chime in with the name of some other pitted icon. Bukowski maybe. Or Tommy Lee Jones. But you don’t want to. Zach is better than that. Taking shots at Dane Cook is cheap and pointless and trite. Like hipsters complaining about Starbucks. Or a yuppie complaining about hipsters.

But as soon as you’re ready to be bothered by it, you realize Zach’s moved on. He talks about a 60-acre farm that be bought in North Carolina. These days, he’s grooming the land, and many of his new jokes come to him while he’s driving his tractor, chewing tobacco and daydreaming. His goal is to put cabins up and start a nonprofit writers’ retreat, maybe even a music school.

When asked about his motivation for doing it, Zach says, “Since I was a kid, I’ve always wanted to have some kind of cult.”

There’s a good chance he’s only half joking.

A twentysomething walks into the room and starts telling Zach about his favorite joke. Zach laughs and says, “It’s so dumb.”

In a second, he can shift gears from having cult-building confidence to extreme modesty — almost a shyness from praise. When you talk to him, he prefaces almost every successful joke or new idea by saying, “It’s so stupid” or “It’s dumb — “It’s just sillyness.” In the same way, he denies the altruism behind starting this nonprofit organization: “It’s selfish,” he says. “It’s therapy for me.”

The conversation ends, and before you leave, you turn back one more time. Zach’s moved on. A photographer is there taking pictures, asking Zach to stare at himself in a mirror. Zach does as he’s asked, then moves on to the back room to be with his friends.

Then it’s off to what’s next: He’ll finish off his month in Brooklyn, then tour across the country, then head to his farm in North Carolina. He’ll appear in two movies later this year, one about people who explode, and another that’s directed by Sean Penn; he’ll write new jokes, perform them at colleges and clubs, work on a movie about Fat Jesus; he’ll keep moving on.

For more information, check out www.zachgalifianakis.com.

WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT ZACH
Matt Belknap, founder of apecialthing.com, one of the Internet’s most popular comedy communities and A Special Thing Records has this to say about Zach: “Zach might be a comedy savant. His jokes are at once perfectly simple and marvelously clever, and they never cease to surprise me. He’s essentially a prankish kid trapped in a bohemian artist’s body. Instead of fighting it, those two personalities have found a way to coexist in his act. How else do you explain a guy who plays classical piano pieces while telling fart jokes?”

On why Zach’s popularity has grown but why he hasn’t hit the mainstream yet, friend and fellow Comedians of Comedy star Maria Bamford says this: “The reason he’s so popular is that he has a B.A. in Comedy Publicity from Santa Monica College and he knows how to put himself out there! He’s also sponsored by a very powerful Garfield the Movie Fan Club. The only thing that’s keeping him from becoming the most well-known and admired comedian in the world is his stubborn refusal to join the Bath Party and his ‘pro-partial birth’ stance on abortion.”

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