Whitney Cummings: Comedy’s emotional ninja

by Dylan P. Gadino

She just released her debut stand-up album, had a strong set on Comedy Central’s Roast of Joan Rivers, was seen on Showtime’s Live Nude Comedy and will appear on the upcoming special Comedians of Chelsea Lately on E! So does Whitney Cummings have your attention yet?

At 26 years old, Whitney Cummings is certainly not what you’d consider a veteran comedian. But since her move out to Los Angeles after graduating from Philadelphia’s University of Pennsylvania she’s proved her comedy mettle time and again. Quickly becoming a stand out talent in the huge pool of comics on the West Coast, Cummings has been able to turn her LA stand-up club successes into high-profile accolades— like being named one of Variety’s 10 comics to watch in 2007 and being featured in Entertainment Weekly’s “future stars of comedy” section.

Most recently the Chelsea Lately regular gave one of the most memorable performances of Comedy Central’s Roast of Joan Rivers and appeared on and produced Showtime’s new stand-up series Live Nude Comedy (stand-up and burlesque, anyone?). Add to that, her profile as a budding actress – she played one of Michelle Monaghan’s best friends in last year’s Made of Honor with Patrick Dempsey – and her just released stand-up album Emotional Ninja put out by New Wave Dynamics and what you get is one of the most exciting comedians of 2009. And you’ll be able to catch the Washington, DC native on Aug. 21, when she appears on the comedy special, The Comedians of Chelsea Lately on E!

Punchline Magazine recently caught up with Cummings to chat about why she laughed hysterically over someone getting stabbed, the pressures of doing comedy in Los Angeles and much more.

You recently appeared on Comedy Central’s Roast of Joan Rivers. Since it was your first big-time televised roast, were you scared that people at home would wonder who the hell you were and why you were roasting Joan Rivers?
I wasn’t scared. Stand-up prepares you for this kind of thing. Plus, roast jokes are kind of one of my strengths and it’s not like a gift. It’s a twisted, sick thing to be able to do so easily. The roast is a really familiar vibe for me. It’s cool to see it televised but that’s what it’s like every night at a comedy club with my friends. So it’s like me and Dov Davidoff, Steve Byrne and Sebastian [Maniscalco]– all we’re doing is fucking making fun of each other. For me, the roast is just like a televised version of what happens every night.

Also, I was a writer on the Flavor Flav and Saget roasts so I knew exactly what people would expect. I was very familiar with the roast and all the writers. So for me that was really helpful. I went up eighth, which in the actual taping was like two hours in. The first couple of comics weren’t sure how they were doing, because the key to the roast working is the roastee, in this case, Joan Rivers, enjoying it and laughing. But with Joan it’s impossible to tell what expression she has on her face. People thought she wasn’t laughing and she was miserable but it’s just because her face is so fucking frozen. So nobody could tell if she was laughing or not. But then between takes she was like, “those were funny!” And then she started clapping and doing other things that made it clear to other people that she was enjoying it. So by the time I got up there. I sort of knew that Joan was into it.

How did your environment growing up lead you to a life in stand-up comedy?
You hit the jackpot here. I came from a broken family for sure. I had to work very hard to get my parents’ attention, hence my performer mentality. My mom was always working and my dad was always on business trips. So I had to work very hard to get their attention and I think that still holds up. ‘I’m on the Roast, Dad. Now will you call me back?’ I joke about it all the time. Every time something big happens, I say, ‘Did you hear that, Dad?’ But my dad is hysterically funny. My whole family is actually funny; everything was always a joke. All my friends say that I’m emotionally dyslexic. [ed. note: hence the name of her album Emotional Ninja].There was a lot of intense emotion and tragedy in my childhood but no one ever took it seriously. Stress was never felt real. Things would never stay serious for too long. Everything that’s tragic is hysterically funny to me.

One time I was having dinner with my friends and one friend showed up late. And he said he was sorry he was late and he was in tears. He said, ‘My assistant just got stabbed at Universal City Walk; a gang stabbed him in the leg five times.’ And everyone at the table was like, ‘Oh my god!’ And I was hysterically laughing. I was in tears. I had to leave the table I thought it was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. You know, who gets stabbed? So I think that helps a lot as a stand-up. That’s played a big part of me gravitating toward comedy.

It seems you’re able to prove yourself to both mainstream and alternative comedy audiences. Why do you think that is?
Some more mainstream comedians say I’m alternative. And some alternative comics think I’m mainstream. I hope that I’m just funny instead of just indie or mainstream or alternative or commercial or whatever. I don’t know what the definition of alternative is as opposed to mainstream. If you were to ask anyone at the UCB or the Laugh Factory what the difference between alternative and commercial I don’t know that anyone would know what the answer is. To me funny is funny. I’m not sure where I stand. I guess it’s more the venues you play but I’m able to do UCB and the Laugh Factory.

But why would mainstream comics call your alternative. Is it that they think you have a marginal appeal?
Sometimes it’s a compliment to be called alternative. When people say you’re alternative, I say, ‘What does that mean?’ And a lot of times the answer is that ‘Your jokes are smart and you’re very clever.’ But I don’t want to accept that definition because I don’t want to imply that mainstream comics aren’t smart and clever. I think it just means that your jokes are maybe more cerebral. I hope it doesn’t mean that I have a smaller appeal, because that’s not a goal of mine.

Maybe it has something to do with clever construction of jokes, which I used to do more of. Now I’m just breaking open onstage more than I’m telling well-crafted jokes. Dan Mintz is a great example of someone who does brilliant jokes with no emphasis on presentation. He’s considered an alternative comedian but his material is funny to everyone. I don’t think anyone would walk in and not think his material was hilarious.

You’re on television constantly and been in major movies. Those aren’t the traits of an alternative comedian.
I think the labels are meaningless. Like Zach Galifianakis used to be considered an alternative comic and now he’s one of the most famous comedians. He’s got incredibly widespread appeal. Paul F. Tompkins too. And Patton Oswalt is now doing huge movies. The point of being on TV is to get as many people as possible to respond to you and appreciate you. I don’t want to alienate anyone with haute comedy. I don’t want to belittle, alienate or make anyone feel stupid. I just want to connect with people. So if that’s mainstream, then fine, I’ll take it.

Do you ever have to hold back from writing certain material for fear that you will alienate people?
About a year ago, I was all about what people would say to me after a show. It used to be that people would come up to me and say, ‘Oh my god, those are such good jokes, you’re so funny.’ And that used to be what was validating to me. But now, I’ve changed what I’m doing a little bit. So now the goal is to have people come up to me after a show and say, ‘Oh my god, that’s so true.’ Because now I’m trying to write stuff that’s more personal and stuff that’s less elitist. I’m trying to connect more with people. I don’t judge my audiences. I don’t believe in audiences showing up and you telling them how stupid they are. I don’t believe in someone paying $20 to get in, $40 for food, a two-drink drink minimum, not to mention parking. They could be paying $100 to come see you. I don’t believe in, ‘You guys are idiots.’

A non-comedian said this to me the other day: ‘So doing stand-up is basically asking someone to pay you $20 to listen to you talk for an hour.’ And I was like,’ Yeah, I guess that sounds pretty fucking arrogant.’ To go watch Meryl Streep or the biggest blockbuster movie that costs $200 million to make, they’re only asking to pay $12. We’re asking $20, plus everything else you have to pay for. Meryl Streep is only asking $12 at the theater. It’s a big responsibility and I take it seriously. I never want anyone at any show I’m performing at to not get it, to not relate to it, or to feel stupid. It’s really important to me that people don’t come out of shows thinking, ‘She thinks she’s better than me.’ I want to connect and respect that people made an effort to come out.

Why do you think you’re able to let of the anger that so many other comedians hold onto onstage?
Comedy is a very combative job. People always say comedians are fucked up. I don’t think comedians always start out fucked up. I think doing comedy fucks them up. I think they start out perfectly normal and then after 10 years of doing stand-up, then you’re a nightmare and you’re on drugs. I think the terms we use onstage proves that: I killed, I slaughtered. It’s always such a violent terms. Going onstage can be war sometimes.

But I think there’s a lot of anger in comedy because it could be a very frustrating job. No matter how big or how great a comedian is, the last three shows they did, I’m sure one of them was bad. You’re always being challenged. If you’re doing great, and you tape your hour special, then you have to write a whole new hour and get back in the trenches again and get rejected again. You’re putting yourself out there every night to be either rejected or accepted.

Comedy attracts very aggressive people because it takes a lot of balls. I consider the Comedy Store to be my home club in LA. A lot of people stay away from it because they think it’s dark and toxic, but it really is the best place to get better at comedy. That place has been a gift for me. The lighting is set up so that you can’t see the audience so you’re defenseless against hecklers. So you get really strong with hecklers; I don’t fear them anymore because I feel like I’ve been in the trenches there. They don’t serve food, so the audience is not distracted. They’re just staring in your eyes. They say a giggle at the Comedy Store is like an applause break anywhere else. You just have to eat shit. Chris Rock was in there a couple months ago and he was like. ‘Ah, back at the Comedy Store’ because he was just doing ok. It’s a lot of people that don’t speak English, a lot of tourists. So no matter how good you think you are, you can always eat shit there twice a week.

Roast of Joan Rivers	Encore Friday 10pm / 9c
Whitney Cummings – On Joan Rivers
www.comedycentral.com

Are their pressures you face in LA as a comedian that you wouldn’t have in other cities?
Most comics here don’t do more than one spot a night. So nothing is ever on time. If you’re in New York and you have a spot at 8:52 pm, you’re on stage at 8:52 pm. It’s like clockwork. You can do five spots a night and it’s always on time. Here, since there’s a lot more celebrities here, there’s more people popping in. So your spot’s at 10 pm but then Drew Carey comes by or Carlos Mencia comes by or Seth Rogen wants to do a set because he’s filming a movie and so you’re constantly getting bumped all the time. It’s also harder because there’s so much industry here. It’s annoying when you perform at the Comedy Store and you hear there’s people in the crowd casting for HBO and you wanted to work on new stuff. I feel like I have to go to the Ice House in Pasadena or to Hermosa Beach to the Comedy and Magic club just to get away from industry to be able to work on new stuff.

In New York, you hear a lot about LA comedians using stand-up as a stepping stone to television and movies. Do you find that accurate?
I’m going to get defensive about that. I don’t think it’s necessarily right to ridicule people who want to work. Guess what? Being on TV gets you more roadwork so you can do more stand-up. Being on television could be very liberating because it helps you do more of what you love. For me, TV has been helpful because it helps me do more stand-up, what I want to be doing. I want to be supportive of comics that do that and not a hater. But we’re also living in this crazy time with YouTube. Bo Burnham, for example. He was in Boston, not LA, and he got a half hour special because he was putting clips on YouTube. The game is changing. And you don’t have to be in LA to get TV opportunities.

For more info on Whitney, check out whitneycummings.com. And buy Whitney’s new album, Emotional Ninja here.