Various Artists: Invite Them Up

by John Delery

Judging from the colossal comic lineup, everyone listening to Invite Them Up should keep an EKG machine and home defibrillator nearby to monitor and restart their hearts after having subjected themselves to more than three hours of convulsion-inducing hilarity.

Luckily, though, no one hearing the three CDs or watching the companion DVD are in much danger of dying — mainly because the series of live shows, recorded at Pianos in New York City from May 1 through May 3, 2005, lacks a “killer” set.

Many jokes explode on impact, detonating laughter. But too many duds fizzle like wet firecrackers, a shock considering the team of talent (including Craig Baldo, Todd Barry, Mike Birbiglia, David Cross, Jessi Klein, Demetri Martin, hosts Eugene Mirman and Bobby Tisdale and about 20 other top-notch comedians.

Much of the compilation sounds as if Tisdale, the supersonically sarcastic emcee, invites each performer to his humor lab to test promising premises or experiment onstage with raw material that needs plenty of refinement. And that’s exactly the premise behind the weekly show at New York City’s East Village club, Rififi, in which this collection derives. While it surely works in that setting, four discs worth of it may be a bit too much.

Jeremiah Smallchild and Gideon Lamb, an amusing pair of “Christian rockers,” deliver the most seditious messages and performance of all. The masterminds behind God’s Pottery sound equally unctuous and pious until the singing begins It’s then where the choirboys turn into bad boys on two inventive songs: “The Pants Come Off When the Ring Goes On,” and “Jesus…I Need a Drink.” The first song, a parody paean to virtue and the twin sins of promiscuity and premarital sex, jabs Bible thumpers. Then, their irreverent “drinking song ” exhorts the congregation to “get crazy drunk on Christ!”

Tom McCaffrey also stands out with his diatribe against dismissive whiners who wouldn’t want to even visit New York City, let alone live there. Lamentably, he nearly stomps a good joke by stepping on the punchline.

Jon Benjamin and Cross take the usually inflexible topic of abortion, twist it, then stretch it into a long chunk of seemingly ad-libbed and imaginative comedy that may make even the most serious pro-lifer laugh.

Jim Gaffigan:

by Punchline Magazine

A small-town cake-loving boy from Indiana, Jim Gaffigan moved to New York and quickly found success in standup, television and movies. Now, he’s on the road and ready for a new Comedy Central special. By Jennifer L.M. Gunn

There are a few things you can gather about Jim Gaffigan from his comedy. He loves food. He’s from the Midwest. And he’s absolutely hilarious. After years of touring and considerable acting success, Jim is tired but happy. Punchline Magazine caught up with the comedian while he was on the road in West Palm Beach, Fla., prepping for his latest Comedy Central special.

I Double-Dog Dare You
So how did a guy from Indiana who’s the youngest of six kids get into comedy? Someone dared him. “I never really knew anyone that did standup,” he says. “I was raised conservatively. Success was wearing a coat and tie.”

Jim had long dreamed of living in New York City, and of getting out of the small-town suburbs — “In Indiana, I always thought, ‘this has been a mistake. I’m not supposed to be living here,” he says — so after attending Georgetown University in Washington D.C., Jim left his family and country life behind for the Big Apple.

In New York, Jim got a day job in advertising and began taking improv acting classes for fun, and this is where his path dramatically changed course. A friend dared him to sign up for a standup comedy seminar — a seminar that included a live performance at the end of its run. “My friend ended up never performing and I ended up falling in love with it,” he says of his frightening first go. “I had some friends in the audience. But it was terrifying.” He was hooked.

After his standup debut, Jim made the rounds, “plodding along and doing open mikes” around New York and honing his act night after night. “The first time, you try to find your voice. The audience kind of tells you how you are,” he says. “But it’s an insane pursuit.” Starting in the 90s also made things a tad more difficult. The comedy boom of the 80s had just passed and suddenly the demand didn’t match the supply of fresh talent.

“There was this glut of comedians and less clubs. Clubs were closing,” he says. “There were tons of people going into it. It wasn’t the quick and easy money thing of the 80s. It was right when people could see comedy on cable and they’d say, ‘Well, I can just see it on TV.’”

LUCK BE A COMMERCIAL (…AND A SPOT ON LETTERMAN)
As standup comedy was proving a difficult venture, a friend advised Jim to audition for commercials. “I didn’t think I was right for them. But I ended up getting a bunch of them,” he says with a humble laugh. His first commercial was for MovieFone, which kicked off a healthy string of over 100 commercial appearances, including spots for Saturn, Rolling Rock, ESPN and Fleet Bank (in which he starred with Nomar Garciaparra of the Boston Red Sox). Jim was also recently seen in ads for Sierra Mist, which featured fellow comedians Michael Ian Black, Nicole Sullivan, Debra Wilson and Aries Spears.

Acting proved to be Jim’s ticket to acquiring a steady income, industry exposure, a packed résumé and the freedom to keep doing standup. “The commercials made it so I could stay in New York and develop my act, but it was a scary thing not having a day job,” he says.

Commercials quickly turned into bit parts on Conrad Bloom , Law & Order , Sex and the City , Ed and That 70s Show , among others. Jim could also be seen on the big screen in films such as Three Kings , Super Troopers and 13 Going on 30 .

“My big break was finally doing Letterman, which was a big to-do because I’m from Indiana [like Dave] and it was my first network TV spot,” says Jim. The gig on Late Show with David Letterman turned out to be another in a series of seemingly lucky breaks. Jim’s experience is what many comics dream of. It’s what comedians can only hope for after a performance on national TV in front of influential late-night magnates like Letterman and Leno. “I did my set, I walked off stage and they said the executive producer wants to meet you up in his office,” Jim says, recalling the scene. “I thought maybe it was going to be something good. I thought maybe Dave wants me to be a writer. But they wanted me to develop my own show.”

Jim had struck gold, and it wasn’t lost on him. “Not to sound too corny, but to just do shows like Letterman and Conan is in a lot of ways what I aspired to. I didn’t aspire to be a headliner guy. I wanted to maybe just get on Letterman.”

SHOW US WHAT YA GOT

“With every comic, there’s kind of this ‘what would your sitcom be like?’ thing,” Jim says. “It’s just surreal. There are so many things that can go wrong. The odds of it ever getting on the air are so slim.”

Though he had a promising development offer on the table, Jim kept his feet on the ground, aware that at any moment, it could all fall through. “I was so incredibly flattered by it, but realistic about it. To actually get a show on the air is amazing.”

And so he started tossing out ideas to the network and to Letterman himself, and despite some push and pull between the two, Jim managed to come up with an idea for a sitcom mirroring both his own life and Letterman’s. “Weathermen aren’t seen as respected newscasters. It ended up that Letterman had been a weatherman and I thought he wouldn’t like it. But he said, ‘It’s fine as long as it’s funny.’” And thus Welcome To New York was born. The show — about a popular local weatherman from Indiana who moved to New York to be a big city ‘meterologist’ — debuted in October of 2000 and co-starred Christine Baranski — a rather high-profile cast member coming off four seasons on CBS’s successful Cybil — and Sara Gilbert of Roseanne fame. Despite some good critical acclaim, Welcome to New York failed and went off the air in January of 2001 — before completing a full season.

SITCOM, INTERRUPTED
Losing the show was a difficult blow. “People watched, but not enough. I think some of it is the timeslot. There were a lot of different variables. It was going up against Who Wants to be a Millionaire?,” Jim says. “I was fortunate enough to be on a show that I wasn’t embarrassed about. There are plenty of people who get shows and they aren’t how they wanted them to be.”

Aside from the cancellation, the daily grind of working on a sitcom was also eye-opening for Jim. “It’s also really hard to do a sitcom. It seems really easy, but if you’re a lead, you have to remember a 40-page play every week. There was some burnout.”

The loss of the show was tough, but Jim had been prepared for the uncertainty of fame. He was aware going in that even though he had come to helm a major network sitcom in prime time, nothing was set in stone. “You get too much respect or not enough. It’s so fleeting. It’s cyclical. You might be the golden boy for like a month,” he says. “I have no idea why some shows work. Plenty of shows are on the air and I’m like “who is watching this?’”

And then, the humble boy from Indiana peeks out for one final modest show of gratitude: “As an actor, you know you’re never going to have the same job forever. Would I love to have a show on the air and be making a million and episode? Yeah. But I felt like I was just lucky to be there.”

After the demise of Welcome To New York , Jim returned to standup, commercials and bit parts. “I love acting and I love standup. I have to do both of them to keep some semblance of sanity,” he says. “If I could have another show, that would be great. I’d like to be acting more, but I’m not aspiring to be on the cover of People . I’d like people to come to see me but I don’t need to be a household name.”

TAKING THE CAKE
Jim’s newest project is a one-hour special for Comedy Central. And though he’s done a half-hour Comedy Central Presents , the one-hour format requires more preparation and cleanup. “Once you have a point of view, you can go with that. I’ll get a topic and kind of obsess on it. I’ll kind of look at it from every angle… like cake. And then I’ll kind of exhaust the topic until the audience is like ‘ok, enough already.’” It’s this relentlessness that makes audiences wonder how many jokes about food one guy can make — but Jim can spend a enormously significant portion of his set talking about food and consistently keep the audience in hysterics. At a recent performance at Caroline’s in New York, Jim hit the mark by doing his “Hot Pockets” bit, which segues into a riotous rendition of the Hot Pockets jingle.

But perhaps Jim Gaffigan is best known for his “inner voice” character. It’s a sort of running commentary by an imaginary woman in the audience who criticizes Jim’s performance — and it works like a dream. “The ‘inner voice’ started 7 or 8 years ago. I used to have a joke where I talked about my sister commenting on my act, so it’s kind of her. Some of it also might have been stopping the audience from commenting, like ‘I’ll comment on it so you don’t have to,’” he says. “It’s pretty amazing… it’s like the cornerstone of my act, but there are some audiences that just don’t get it.”

And what happens when it just doesn’t work? “The last time that it didn’t work was when I was in the Kilkenny Comedy Festival. It makes me pull back on it. It’s like, ‘how weird can I be with the audience?’” he says. “If you’re doing an hour, you want to keep them. Even if you have to baby sit them.”

After filming his Comedy Central special in early October (it airs in January), Jim will stay busy. But road life is no easy task — especially when it means leaving his wife of two years, Jeannie Noth, who is expecting their second child. “My wife and I, we’re kind of a total team. I write a lot with her. We wrote a script together for Fox,” he says. “I’ve always wanted my act to be something anyone in my family could listen to and not be embarrassed by. If I do anything she doesn’t like, she’s gonna tell me.”

And with that, we wish Jim luck, knowing we’ll probably see a lot of him in the future - on stage, in the movies, on TV, on the road and maybe… eating cake.

Jim Gaffigan’s CD/DVD Doing My Time is now available.

For more information, visit jimgaffigan.com.

Aries Spears: I Ain’t Scared

by Keith Hernandez

For years, Aries Spears used his preternatural ability to imitate celebrities on Fox’s Mad TV. From Michael Jackson to Jesse Jackson, Spears delivers amazingly deft impersonations of some of America’s most incendiary stars. So it came as no surprise that the most rewarding and comical part of Spears’ double CD I Ain’t Scared is when he recasts Sylvester Stallone and Arnold Schwarzenegger in the mobster drama Heat, taking over Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro’s famous roles.

His delivery is pitch-perfect and cuts through the absurdity of Stallone and Schwarzenegger trying to act. Spears has a real joy in his voice when he does these characters— a passion and playfulness that exudes through the impersonations. Spears’s calm presence and smooth demeanor is also solid during his Snoop Dogg, DMX and LL Cool J medley.

Unfortunately, the rest of the CD is lackluster and devoid of the same blunt humor that works so well in the Heat scene. The first disc is filled with uninspired musings about race, sex and sports— the usual commentary one would expect at a comedy show. Spears doesn’t say anything that would skew from the norm.

The most controversial punch line comes when he jokes about Arabs and how they’ve taken the pressure off of blacks: “Arabs are the new nigger.” Though witty and insightful, it’s a bit dated. While his jokes are delivered with a polish and persuasiveness that make it difficult not to laugh it leaves you craving for more.

And that’s what the second CD should be for. Sadly, though, it falls a bit flat. It’s full of Jerky Boys-style prank calls, where Spears exhibits his impressive breadth of voices. The calls, however, are too long and there seems to be little tension between Spears and his victims.

John Heffron: Good Kid, Bad Adult

by John Delery

Ever since Eve ate that apple and immediately discovered the naked truth about her man (“Oh, Adam, for God’s sake, put on some pants!”), women have been wagging their fingers and shaking their heads disgustedly at men. Now, from comedian John Heffron, comes a CD for anyone who has ever wondered, What makes women ticked?

On Good Kid, Bad Adult, Heffron holds up a funhouse mirror to males and reflects on the reputedly crass and infuriating gender — often hilariously.

He unlocks the door and invites the audience to join him, the strippers, the slobs and the layabouts inhabiting the male clubhouse. Even those men who don’t consider themselves jerks-in-progress can learn from this amusing — and, yes, instructional — CD.

Professor Heffron, a champion of the reality-TV series Last Comic Standing, which returns this summer to NBC, teaches men that if you innocently go to a strip club (even if it’s just to ask the popular dancer for change of $20 because the bank is closed), avoid the “stripper dust.” He also warns his frat brothers about the hazards of the “We Gotta Go Girls,” the humorless security detail that protects the one “hot girl” in the herd with the vigilance of the Secret Service guarding the President.

In this raucous Men 101 class, listeners learn why a divorced woman is like “getting pre-approved for credit”; why every man need a “life caddie” and why, at the most inopportune time, man’s best friend can suddenly become your worst enemy. And although The Container Store will never stock them, Heffron explains — quite logically, ladies — why stairs make a great shelf.

Finally, Heffron debunks the greatest myth about men: It turns out males are sensitive critters — to other members of the tribe hunting for, uh, a good…lady. Or something like that.

Patton Oswalt: Getting Busy

by Benjamin Cake

As this King of Queens standout readies his new DVD, P-Oz — that’s what we call him ‘round here — takes a moment to reflect.










By Benjamin Cake

Like anybody who might have garnered nationwide recognition for being not only a stellar comedian but also a standout sitcom star, Patton Oswalt seems like the kind of person who’d like to chat about his professional evolution. But he’s not. It seems, at the moment, anyway, that he’s a bit too busy.

Don’t believe it?

The first question of his email interview with Punchline Magazine – Patton said no to a phone interview – was a simple: “How’s ’06 shaping up?”

Patton’s response: “Very busy, obviously.”

And this kind of response isn’t rare.

There are some good interviews with Patton out there [ed. note aspecialthing.com, from which this profile borrows some information, has a great one], where he talks about how he got started, about persevering through the comedic dry rot of the early 1990s, about his album, Feelin’ Kinda Patton, and about The Comedians of Comedy, a Comedy Central series that documented a tour he went on with a handful of other talented comics (Brian Posehn, Maria Bamford and Zach Galifianakis).

But in a lot of other interviews, this King of Queens cast member fires off-the-cuff responses with the glibness of a teenager that’s tired of talking to his mom’s new boyfriend at Thanksgiving dinner.

So is it safe to write him off as a dick?

That’s a little hasty.

To understand Patton, it’s important to go back to a time in his life when he wasn’t so busy.

Back in the late 1980s, when Patton first started to pursue stand-up, he did what most fledgling comedians do: attend open mics. On one particular night, he and his friend Blaine Capatch were waiting to perform. Together, they sat through what seemed like a never-ending series of bad acts, and it kept getting later and later. Afraid he wasn’t going to get a chance to go on, Patton asked his other buddy, Mark Voyce what time it was.

“It’s a million o’clock,” Voyce said.

“It is a million o’clock,” Patton said. “And I’m gonna stay here until I go up.”

More than sixteen years later, Patton still remembers that moment and believes it illustrates his intense devotion to the art of stand-up comedy. At that point, he’d only been performing for about a year, but he’d become passionate enough that he needed to go up on stage, even if all the lights were turned off and no one was around, even if it was just for the experience.

This was a powerful development for someone who hadn’t always been drawn to stand-up.

YOU’RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS, BUT …
Born in 1969, Patton grew up in suburban Virginia. While he can remember listening to his father’s Jonathan Winters albums at an early age, he always wanted to be a writer. As a kid, he read the stories of Stephen King and Harlan Ellison, and after graduating from Broad Run High School in 1987 he enrolled at The College of William & Mary where he majored in English.

During the summer between his freshman and sophomore years, Patton decided he should try out a variety of different jobs with flexible hours that could act as a backup until he became a successful writer.

So he tried being a courier, and he tried writing for some local newspapers; he was a DJ at weddings and corporate picnics — things he describes as “grim stuff.” Perhaps most grim was when he worked as a paralegal for a law firm. Patton quit because it was too depressing to work with a stable of “failed jocks” who lived for Top 40 radio and liquid lunches.

Among all of these experiments, the job that provided the most rejection and least pay was stand-up comedy. In spite of its abuse, Patton found himself sticking with it. And once he’d narrowed his focus, it didn’t take long for him to abandon writing and devote all of his time and energy to performing.

Between 1989 and 1995, comedy never earned Patton more than $7,000 a year. But that didn’t deter him. In order to make ends meet, he discovered ways to get by: He found buffets where he could eat for free with the purchase of one drink; instead of buying books and movies, he borrowed everything from public libraries; he pared his wardrobe down to a simple uniform of jeans, a T-shirt, and a flannel.

Comedy had consumed him, and he seemed willing to make any sacrifice that was necessary to succeed.

THIS NEXT PART IS GOING TO BLOW YOU AWAY
When he graduated from college in 1991, Patton faced another big decision: He wanted to move out to California, but, at the time, he was engaged to a girl who wanted to stay in Virginia. The result? He broke off the engagement, moved in with his parents, and began to save money for his trip west. The next summer, he drove out to California in an old Volkswagen Jetta that broke down on his way there and forced him to spend all the money he had saved.

In spite of this adversity, Patton immersed himself in the San Francisco comedy scene. He performed a set every night, and then he’d head out to watch other comics like Dana Gould, Greg Behrendt, Jeremy Kramer, and Greg Proops.

It was at this point that Patton felt the need to “burn his hacky-ass road-comic act” that he’d been using on the East Coast.

When asked in our interview if he could chart the evolution of his act, Patton broke it down by year ranges. Nineteen eighty-eight to 1990, he says, “god awful”; 1991 to 1995 “dependable but forgettable”; and 1995 onward: “more personally aware and unique.”

So why was 1995 the turning-point year?

By 1995, Patton had been living and working in San Francisco for three years. For a few months, he went through what he considers a “breakdown,” during which he couldn’t write any funny material, but he continued to perform, and he also submitted a few short films with the hope of getting some writing work. After a brief return to the East Coast, he was hired to work on the pilot for Mad TV. From there, opportunities began to compound, and, over the next four years, Patton made appearances on HBO and Comedy Central, as well as in films like Man on the Moon and Magnolia.

While getting hired to work for television and movies was a fortunate development, Patton did not drift from his original passion for comedy. In fact, Patton likes to make the distinction between two different types of comedians: those who use comedy as a way to get into movies and television, and those who do television and movies so that they can afford to continue doing stand-up. He is among the latter. Everything he has done over the past 17 years has been with stand-up in mind.

Even now, with a long resume of television and movie appearances, Patton’s most important goals are to continue coming out with CDs and DVDs — his uncensored DVD, No Reason to Complain will be out in early April — as well as to continue with projects like The Comedians of Comedy, where he can use his fan base to get exposure for younger comedians whom he believes deserve recognition.

For more information, visit pattonoswalt.com

Dane Cook: All Aboard the Dane Train

by Dylan P. Gadino

With a gold record in hand, film roles a plenty and a new book, Dane Cook is poised to become this generation’s most influential comic.

By Dylan P. Gadino

There’s a sturdy yet playful register in Dane Cook’s voice as he strides into his office. He leaves behind the warm, cottage-like feel of his living room — replete with high, 80-year-old wood-carved ceilings — and enters a room with enough gadgetry and stimuli to satisfy your every diversionary whim. Monitors, video games and what seems like every action figure he has ever owned all have a home here. His collection of Cracked and Mad magazines are nearby. And there’s a menacing group of Spawn toys from Todd McFarlane overlooking his desk.

Then there’s something in a frame. “This is one of my prized possessions,” Cook says. It’s a bit large, and on it the words read, “We’re very excited that our next guest is making his network television debut with us tonight. He can be seen in Boston at the Comedy Connection October third and fourth. Please welcome, the very funny Dane Cook.”

“I got that the first time I did Letterman,” Cook explains. “I was leaving the Ed Sullivan Theater, and I asked the cue-card guy if I could have it.” A few days later, it arrived in the mail, framed and signed by Dave himself.

That appearance was eight years ago. Since then, he has been back to the show three times and has added another frame — a gold record inside — to his office’s décor.

“The success of Retaliation [his three-disc sophomore release that dropped this past summer] has definitely changed my life,” he says. “I’ve had 15 years of a pretty consistent standup career. I’ve been moving along nicely, earning new fans and achieving baby steps. But when the album hit number four on Billboard it was like someone put me in the Millennium Falcon and hit warp speed.”

For the past few months, Cook has traded in the traditional leisurely lifestyle of a comic for days filled with meetings with directors, writers and producers. Besides his recent role in the Lions Gate comedy Waiting, Cook has signed on for at least two more movie gigs, and as of press time, is set to star in Sony Pictures’ Cooked, a single-camera comedy in which Cook is co-executive producing. The man is even writing a book. Though he won’t reveal its subject matter, he promises it will be “comedic.”

For now, however, his top priority is standup. It’s in his blood; it’s what he was born to do. “Standup is one of the few places in the entertainment realm where there are no filters,” he says. “On any given night you can hear from my brain to your ears without anybody impeding on that. It’s a magical thing to go to a show and watch a guy by himself make a room full of people laugh with just his thoughts.”

THE WAITING IS THE HARDEST PART

It’s 8:15 p.m. in Los Angeles and Dane is getting his thoughts together, waiting for his set at the Laugh Factory, the Sunset Boulevard venue that has been his home stage for the past few years. He hates waiting, and it’s easy to tell why. It takes fewer than five minutes of talking to Cook to realize the kinetic-but-controlled presence he emanates from the stage every night is not just part of a performance persona. He is that guy. Whatever he does, he does it with full attention and with a level of commitment far surpassing that seen in most modern marriages. This is a guy who, when he was young, would climb on top of his refrigerator in the dark and lay there for 40 minutes, waiting for someone to arrive — all so he could add an element of surprise when he made the fridge talk.

“Waiting is the worst,” he says. “Once I’m in the club, I love the smell. I love seeing the comics. I love being around the energy. I love hearing the host. I love when there are mic problems, and they’re working it out — the whole kit and caboodle. I just want to be in that world. I adore it.”

And it shows. Cook thrives on stage. The first thing you notice is his physicality. He bounds around like the front man of a rock band, darts back and forth and urges the crowd’s cheers with a series of yells. He might even flash the SuperFinger — SuFi for short — a modified middle-finger gesture he created by using both his middle and ring fingers. He has also been known to douse himself with water, kick the wall behind him and writhe on the floor. Keep in mind, these antics come from a pure place; Dane doesn’t drink at all and has never done a drug in his life.

But Cook has too many weapons in his arsenal to be labeled as just a physical comedian. Instead, he uses that raw energy to push along a constantly revolving catalogue of absurd, seemingly off-the-cuff ramblings.

In a bit where he lists things he has always wanted to do, he says he wants to tell a driver, “You ever turn around in my driveway again, and I’m gonna cut your fucking head off. I’m gonna put your head on my antenna and drive around with your head on my antenna.”

Add to that his penchant for throwing in quick subtleties. When telling the crowd about his new vehicle, a cement truck he named the CT2004, he’s sure to explain that when his friends are in “that big thing that turns in the back” he feeds them Jolly Rancher watermelon — and only watermelon — candies.

And while Cook’s legions of fans are attracted to his coolness, he doesn’t shy away from cornball antics. He’s the type of guy that juxtaposes a bit where he sings words to fit the sound of a car alarm or tries to personify laundry in a dryer — pure cheesiness on both counts — with a bit where he explains how he once catapulted a cashew into his mouth with his erect penis.

That cool-frat-boy-meets-total-dork formula is working. If you haven’t been paying attention, this good-looking 33-year-old comic from suburban Massachusetts has had a jolly stranglehold on the stand-up world since Retaliation came out. Not since Steve Martin’s 1978 release, A Wild and Crazy Guy, has a comedy album done such chart damage. And not since 1990, when Andrew Dice Clay sold out arenas, has there been such an intense following, like that of a rock star, for a comedian. While Clay — brilliant in his own right — relied heavily on shock and bad press to fatten up his fan base, Cook took a more contemporary approach. By now, the stories of Dane’s self-promotion strategies are famous, both to industry insiders and to his fans.

First, there’s MySpace.com, the online social-networking system where Dane has over 500,000 “friends.” He’s on the site constantly, personally responding to e-mails, posting new photos and updating fans on his current instant messenger address. It’s a perfect supplement to the official site he launched in 2002, a user-friendly and incredibly interactive piece of work.

About a decade ago, Cook also decided to shed his baseball cap and sit-at-the-back-of-the-club mentality and start making an effort to meet all his fans after shows, routinely signing every last autograph. These days, the occasional female fan — and he has many — will have Cook sign a breast or two. And once, by request, Dane signed an overzealous fan’s nut sack. “I didn’t so much sign it as I just hatched and dashed and swatted at it,” Cook laughs. “After putting some hieroglyphics on his balls, I threw the marker as far as I could.”

That’s commitment, folks.

A NEW BEGINNING

Cook grew up outside Boston in Arlington, Mass. His mom, Donna was a homemaker, and his dad, George, who now works at a golf course, at different times managed and ran a lumber yard, a window business and a rock club in Cambridge. “My mother is like a Looney Tunes cartoon. She’s wiggly,” Dane says. “She has the ability to tongue in cheek a lot, and do it in a way where she’s being physical. My dad is the polar opposite. He always had a little ‘what the fuck’ in his voice. Even if he knew nothing about what he was talking about, he could sell it. So I looked at these two extremely funny people and created a style of comedy from absorbing their actions.”

He’s the second youngest of seven siblings; there’s a younger sister, one older brother and four older sisters. “That’s ten breasts if you do the math,” he says. “That’s a little fun fact.”

As he tells it, his comedy didn’t grow from pain or a need to fill some emotional void. Though he does admit he was more than a little introverted when he began high school. “Some days, I couldn’t get two blocks from home without dry-heaving or throwing up,” he says. “I was a firecracker in the house, but once you got me outside, I was really fearful of everything and everyone.”

To help break through his shell, Cook took up drama and eventually fell in love with improv and sketch comedy. Later, in his teens, he would learn what it meant to be a standup. He was enthralled with comics who weren’t afraid to sweat on stage — Richard Pryor and Robin Williams — and was equally taken by those like Steven Wright and Bob Newhart, who could ignite a crowd while standing in one place for an hour.

In 1995, Cook moved out of his parent’s basement to New York City and began performing in earnest. Eight years ago, he shuffled 3,000 miles west to LA. But the laid-back, sunny lifestyle of California hasn’t tamed Cook. And the movie deals and piles of scripts on his floor haven’t changed his attitude much, either. But he doesn’t deny there may be some updates to his life down the line. “I’m definitely entering a new realm of my career,” he says. “This is a really great time. I’ll always be able to look back on this time and say that it was the end of those first 15 years. I’m in that position where I achieved everything I’ve dreamed about wanting. That’s where I am now. I’m standing at a new beginning. So where does this take me?”

Dane Cook’s CD/DVD Retaliation is now available. For more information, visit danecook.com.

Aziz Ansari: Not so bored anymore

by Noah Fowle

From Upright Citizens Brigade to VH1 to Premium Blend, this underground comic is speeding toward the surface

By Noah Fowle

Let’s get one thing straight: Aziz Ansari is no longer bored. The clever name for his Web site, azizisbored.com, is just that—a clever name. And lately, the 22-year-old is too busy to entertain any thoughts of idleness. Between writing a one-man-show, popping in at Manhattan’s hottest clubs, and appearing on VH1’s Best Week Ever series, Ansari might be the hottest under-the-radar comedian in the game right now. And it’s certainly no case of beginner’s luck. Despite his age, Ansari has been mining the city’s comedy scene since he arrived at NYU as a freshman. He studied the comedians he admired and began to make his own name among them.

Ansari has put in time at open mics, fulfilled his flier show duty, and dealt with raucous, drunken audiences. Four and a half years later, the South Carolina native has earned a business degree and is hosting his own weekly show, Crash Test, at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre. “This isn’t just a hobby anymore. This is how I make my living,” he says. “People make a big deal because of my age, but I’ve been doing this for a while now.”

After the initial push from friends to get up on stage, Ansari enjoyed his early laughs and decided to study the careers of his favorite comedians. Impressed with the work of fellow New York comics Todd Barry and Eugene Mirman, he followed in their footsteps at some of the city’s more alternative rooms and continually pushed himself to create original material. Both comics have helped Ansari navigate his career. “Some of the older guys have really looked out for me and pointed me in the right direction,” says Ansari.

Ansari’s material has managed to clear the first hurdle of any quick jump into the spotlight. His initial bits relied on wry political insights and the occasional Southern joke, but now most of his material is derived from personal experience. Whether he is striking out with girls, dealing with newfound fans, or stomaching the entertainment industry, Ansari continues to view it all through a lens that spares no one—including him. “For me, a comedian becomes unfunny when he’s doing hackneyed material or stuff other people have done before,” Ansari says.

“Early on the political stuff was really easy, almost too easy. But after the election, I was pretty dejected. I just stopped reading the news.” He’s also happy to make himself the punch line, as when he tells a story about how he punched a wall in a drunken stupor because of a girl.

Over the summer, Ansari’s one-man show, Aziz Ansari Punched a Wall, brought standup fans back to the famous UCB Theatre, and eventually triggered his current Monday-night Crash Test gig, which raises money for the theater. “We do it for the love, man,” Aziz says. While it’s obvious that his sense of humor is making him successful, he’s sure to point out that the variety of venues in the city certainly helps his career. “There are so many opportunities here. I found some alternative rooms that I really liked and saw what comedians were performing there and worked toward that as my goal,” he says.

Now that he’s taking off, he contends with small flashes of fame. He agrees that there are some comedian groupies, but laments that they’re not the same as the groupies for mainstream celebrities. “All of mine are crazy,” he confesses, “but don’t put that in there—otherwise they’ll stop coming up to me.” After a college tour out West, Ansari even inspired his first fan site, azizansariisafuckingbadass.blogspot.com.

Ansari even takes his recurring appearances on VH1 in stride. “It’s not that big of a deal seeing myself on TV because I see a lot of my friends on there too. We’re all kind of desensitized to it,” he says. “Now, if I ever see myself on Conan, then I’ll freak out. Well, not freak out, but you know.”

Still, it’s a wonder that Ansari still has time to flip channels. He was recently selected to appear on Comedy Central’s Premium Blend, and he is continuing to work on his short film series, Shutterbugs, with cowriter and star Rob Huebel. Even though the show is enjoying an extended run on Channel 102—a monthly screening contest for short films that is based in New York City—Ansari does not envision the premise moving much past its three-minute spots.

That’s not to say that Ansari doesn’t aspire to work in film or television, but when the time comes, he’ll make sure it reflects his standup work. “You won’t see me in some sitcom with an Indian guy and a white guy living together,” he says. “I think what guys like Dave Chappelle and Larry David have done with their standup careers is much cooler.

For more information, visit azizisbored.com.

Bill Burr: Ready for his closeup, BIATCH!

by Tasha A. Harris

After 13 years on the road, the comedian finally hits the big time.












By Tasha A. Harris

Ever since he debuted on Chappelle’s Show last year, Bill Burr has made a few thousand new fans — and not by being the token white guy on the show but by consistently offering stellar performances in skits, most notably as a mock commentator for the race draft - where races lobbied to have ambiguously ethnic celebrities join their group - and his part in a Samuel L. Jackson-brand beer commercial sketch.

On the heels of his newfound popularity, the Boston-bred Burr along with Chappelle’s Show cohorts Charlie Murphy and Donnell Rawlings set out on the “I’m Rich Biatch” comedy tour.

Burr’s new HBO special premieres in September. He’s already writing a new half-hour of material, planning a DVD for release in October and meeting with writers for a new TV show. After 13 years in the business, Burr is finally taking off.

Punchline Magazine met with the comic in New York City, following a taping for Last Call with Carson Daly. He still looks camera-ready: business-casual attire, his face is lightly powdered. Burr’s disposition has changed from a year ago when we last spoke. No longer anxious about trying to land a deal at Montreal’s Just For Laughs Festival, he’s relaxed and upbeat, loquacious and insightful.

How did the “I’m Rich Biatch” tour pan out?
The tour was great. I love Charlie and Donnell. We had a great time and got along really well. But it was just one of those things — toward the end, I was ready to get off. I love doing standup, but when you’re out every weekend for eight months… Every comedy club has the exact same menu: mozzarella sticks, nachos and some sort of horrific chicken sandwich.
Did you bomb at all?

The last time I bombed was about an hour ago [on Last Call ]. It was just one of those deals where I was kind of freaking people out. The last time I really bombed was Saturday night, third show in St. Louis. They added this third show, so it was like a punishment. There were 37 people in the crowd and this kid was sitting in the front row. He was just staring. He’s sideways to the stage and he’s not even looking at me. He’s looking bored.

I just did this thing to get his focus, like, “Dude, did you not want to be here?” Just kind of joking around, trying to make him laugh, so he’d look at me. It seemed better than me standing on stage watching someone daydreaming. I go, “What are you doing?” He just goes, “You’re not funny.” Then I just ripped into him. Like, if you didn’t want to be here, why did you show up? So that’s kind of how I bomb nowadays.

Besides that, what’s the most recent thing that aggravated you?
I got into a huge argument about the Oprah bit I do. [Oprah Winfrey arrived at the Hermès boutique in Paris in June, 15 minutes after closing, and was denied entrance. Oprah has called it "one of the most humiliating days of her life," according to her best pal Gayle King.]

I was actually arguing with [comics] Marina Franklin and Keith Robinson. They started giving me shit, saying, “Why do you hate Oprah?” But I don’t hate her. But by the same token, she recommends those books — that’s what bugs me. There’s no way she has time to read five 300-page books every ten days and then recommend the best one. She’s the star of her own show, a producer and owns a magazine. When is she reading all these books?

Oprah’s life aside, what else inspires you to write jokes?
I try to read a lot of different kinds of magazines. I’m not one of those guys who will sit there and read a book on astronomy. You know what I was getting for a while? Do you know the magazine F.E.D.S. ?

Yes, it’s a prison magazine.
I liked reading the stories and trying to figure out if this guy is going for a new trial. A lot of those guys are in there forever and they’re not getting out. There’s nothing to hide, so they will tell unbelievably crazy stories. I don’t necessarily like to read about positive things. Occasionally, I’ll pick up something about the environment or whatever catastrophe is on the horizon. So I mix all that shit together with my own experiences.

How was the comedy scene in Boston when you started?
It was great. If you listened to the headliners, they would say, “Five years ago, this place would be packed.” But I was just so excited to do it. There was Nick’s Comedy Stop, The Comedy Connection and Stitches Comedy Club. When some of the clubs closed down, it sucked for the established guys. But for the new people coming up, it wasn’t too bad because there was always a couple guys hustling and starting rooms.

I use to do clubs with Dane Cook and Patrice O’Neal. We were up there every Tuesday night and then we would go to Nick’s Comedy Stop. I started out with Patrice and Dane and every night they were coming down with new stuff. We just kind of became like this little clique. And it was like every night, Dane’s got something new and Patrice has something new. So I’ve got to have something new. We just pushed each other along.

Were you nervous about the HBO special?
I was scared to death because for the comics of my generation, HBO specials are like the pinnacle. I’m thinking of all these unbelievable comedians I’ve seen on HBO: Chris Rock, George Carlin, Damon Wayans, Richard Pryor and Billy Crystal. I started having a panic attack seeing my name in that list of people. It was pretty overwhelming. So I started watching the HBO Comedy channel.

What did you learn?
Some people kind of sucked on their specials. So I tried to think more about them than Eddie Murphy.

So the taping went well?
Afterward, I felt unbelievable. I just really felt like that was something that, before I started, I always wanted. I got it and I made the most of it. I felt 100 feet tall at the end of it. It was, without a doubt, the night of my life as far as my comedy career.

Bill Burr’s CD, Emotionally Unavailable is, oddly enough, available.

For more information, visit www.billburr.com.

Daniel Tosh: Life in the Tosh Pit

by Dylan P. Gadino

Beach bum Daniel Tosh drops his first album after 11 years of stand-up.
Now will his parents drop him?

By Dylan P. Gadino

By the way he tells it, Daniel Tosh had no future in the real world. He wasn’t that bright and showed little motivation. We think he’s just being overly modest. After graduating with a business degree from University of Central Florida, he soon realized the world of comedy – which some contend is part of the real world – is where he needed to be. With 11 solid years of standup experience, Tosh, 30, is now a happy-go-lucky, if not slightly strange, resident of Hermosa Beach, California. He surfs by day and tells jokes at night. This month, Comedy Central releases his debut album, True Stories I Made Up. So Punchline Magazine thought now would be a keen time to get some facts from the man himself. In the end, we’re not quite sure what we got.

So why are you putting out an album after so long?
I’ve been avoiding it mainly because I don’t want my parents to have a clue of what I actually say on stage. For years, I could’ve been cleaning up at comedy clubs selling CDs after shows, but going home for Christmas is apparently more important. That’s going to have to stop as of this year.

Your parents have never seen your act?
They’ve seen me on television, so it’s very tame They’ve never seen me on stage promoting anal sex or something horrible. I’m curious to see how it goes over. Hopefully I’ll just tell them that they shouldn’t listen to it and they’ll just heed that advice. Isn’t it sad that I still care about what my parents think?

Yeah, it’s a little sad. Or maybe it’s endearing.
I’ll take the latter.

How would you describe your style of comedy?
Knock-knock is the style I go with mostly.

That’s not true.
I don’t know — observational wit with an edgy twist? Don’t write that down. I have no clue. I make stuff up. Even if I’m talking topical it’s not to make a point at all. It’s just to get to the punchline. There’s nothing revolutionary or groundbreaking about what I do. I think if anything it’s a little less structured than other comedians.

When do you write jokes?
Whenever they hit me. I could force myself to write. I could sit down and start tooling out a joke. I have that gift. I write in wingdings, which is odd for penmanship but whatever.

Where did you start performing comedy?
In Orlando, when I was in college. The initial experience wasn’t reassuring to say the least. I’ve always had a social anxiety. I’m not a huge fan of speaking in front of people, but there was something about comedy. I thought it was something I’d like to do. The first time, I went to what I thought was an open mic place. It turned out to be a competition where you had to pay and then the crowd voted and the winner won the money. That’s a fine scenario except that it wasn’t a comedy venue. It was more of an open mic for jazz musicians.

So when I got there I was like, ‘I’m going to do some comedy.’ They were like, ‘Oh, that’s cool.’ They didn’t discourage me. I had to go on first and I was the only one who told jokes the whole night. There was a guy doing rimshots as I made Shaquille O’Neal penis references. Strike one.

So what got you motivated to do it again?
I was quickly realizing that I had little chance to succeed at anything and I was a poor, broke college student, so why not shoot for the moon? I wasn’t going to be making a similar living to my parents. I stood no chance. I would’ve been homeless.

Do you ever a use a setlist on stage?
The only time I have a setlist is when I need to get a set approved for television. Other than that, no. It’s more like, ‘how fast can I say something horrible?’ A lot of comics say they like to open with tried and true material and then get to the new stuff. I have no problem walking on stage letting new material rip.

Like my new basketball joke: I’m excited about college basketball because they made a rule change this year in the NBA forcing the high school athletes to play at least one year of college basketball. And I think that’s a good rule change for college basketball. I would also recommend that they give white players one more point because it won’t affect the game but it would make them feel like they’re contributing. It would also remind the black athletes that no matter how hard they try in this country, they’ll always make less than their white counterparts.

I like to come out of the gate with that one and immediately make a good portion of the room uncomfortable. That’s really not my objective, but it’s usually the end result.

What kind of digs do you have in Hermosa Beach?
I live in a mansion — The Tosh Majal. No, no. But I’m doing very well. I live near the beach in a house: three bedrooms, three baths, approximately 24,000 square feet. The style of home is Mediterranean, very modern. I have a very expensive car and a 1980 Vespa scooter. Yet I don’t hang with the Vespa group. The Vespa people are kinda weird. That’s my main means of transportation and it gets great gas mileage.

There’s going to be no shred of truth in this article.
What are you talking about? I do live five blocks from the beach. And everything I said about my home is completely true and I do have an old Vespa. Would you like me to crank it up for you? I could. It’s three floors below me though, but whatever. It’s in the Joshua Wing.

How has your standup style changed?
Sometimes I would go up in character for an entire set whereas now I pretty much do what I do and I’ve filtered out all the horrible stuff that I hated along the way. I definitely changed quite a bit and hopefully I continue to change. I’m not married to any of this. If I could find a way to make 50 more dollars next week, I’d do it.

You mean something outside of standup?
Well, I came up with this great invention that I won’t tell anyone about — not even my lover. But I don’t want to release it until my comedy career has peaked because I don’t want to be known for this great invention first. I have things that I’m going to branch out to later. I’m going to be like Ashton Kutcher. I’ll have all kinds of side projects going on. Actually, I’ll be more like George Foreman; he’s kind of a role model. Then I want to have lots of kids. I’m dying for some children.

Why is that?
I don’t know. I guess I already had some kids if you count the first trimester — but who does?

Daniel Tosh ’s CD/DVD True Stories I Made Up is now available.

For more information, visit danieltosh.com.

Judah Friedlander: The World Champion Speaks

by Tasha A. Harris

This scraggly comic knows a thing or two about acting. He’s got all sorts of awards and nominations to prove it. Seriously.

By Tasha A. Harris

It’s a bitterly cold Sunday night. The Laugh Factory in Times Square is packed to near capacity. And Judah Friedlander is killing onstage. He effectively works the crowd with his laugh-out-loud-worthy retorts. He’s definitely the World Champion; it says so on his ironic mesh trucker cap, one of the things (along with his giant, black-rimmed glasses) that makes Judah instantly recognizable.

After his set, he’s greeted by an attractive brunette and agrees to take a photo with her after the rest of the show. He retrieves his backpack and heads into the lounge where he finds a complimentary buffet. “I rested today,” he says, having just endured traveling from Las Vegas to New York during a record-breaking snowstorm. “All I had was a bowl of cereal.” He loads his plate with tortilla chips, guacamole and Mexican rice. Dressed in a canary yellow T-shirt and blue jeans, Judah sits down, happy to chat.

In between taking swigs of Poland Spring, the Gaithersburg, MD native recalls the first time he told jokes onstage. He was 19 and still attending New York University. “The first couple of years, I didn’t know you were supposed to go on every night. I would go up twice a year,” he says. “I’d see comics on Letterman or Carson and I’d be like, ‘they’ve probably been up onstage like 10 or 12 times.’ When I finished school that’s when I realized, ‘Oh, you’re supposed to go up every night.’”

THE WAY OF THE FRIEDLANDER

Now, Friedlander – a 15-year veteran of stand-up – performs up to 20 shows a week in New York City and headlines across the nation. Whether he was performing in dark clubs at night or appearing on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno, Last Call with Carson Daly or the Late Late Show with Craig Kilborn (RIP), Judah says his comedic style has remained consistent. “My stuff has always been joke-driven. I never did personal stories or talked about my life,” he says. “My act has always been pure entertainment, fantasy, bizarre and it’s always joke-filled.

But where did the World Champion shtick come from? “That started from working the crowds in certain rooms in New York where there were lots of tourists. I was just ripping on them,” Judah explains. “It sort of turned into me being better than them.”

And the glasses— does he really need those things? “The glasses are real,” he says. “They’re prescription. It was 10 or 15 years ago and all these pretentious hipsters were wearing these tiny glasses. I just got sick of that. Every time you go into a glasses shop, they go, ‘These are really good because they’re really thin and you can barely see them’ and I’m like, ‘Fuck it! Let’s celebrate that I’m wearing glasses. Let’s wear some big fuckin’ glasses.’”

No doubt, Friedlander is a skilled stand-up, but his look definitely helped the man get noticed. The formula has led Judah to the big screen many times and with much fanfare. For his role in 2003’s Oscar-nominated film, American Splendor, Judah earned an Independent Spirit Award nod for best supporting actor. The New York Times even chose him as one of the best actors of 2004. And last year, Judah won a best supporting actor award at the Bend Film Festival for his role in Duane Hopwood, playing opposite David Schwimmer and Janeane Garofalo. Most recently, he was seen in Date Movie, which debuted in mid February as the number one comedy in America.

If Judah still doesn’t ring a bell, think back to 2001, when Dave Matthews Band premiered their “Everyday” video, which prominently featured some dude hugging everyone in site: that’s Judah.

Despite his impressive acting resume and accolades, Judah says stand-up is his first love because of the freedom it offers. “You get to do your own thing,” he says. “There’s no boss. You can say whatever you want.”

Judah realizes that the night’s host Bill Dawes has concluded the show and the crowd has begun to disperse. In mid sentence, he politely excuses himself to make good on a promise. He returns to the showroom to take pictures and hand out stickers plugging his website. “People know his name,” says Daniel Tamayo, who serves double duty as cook and street team promoter at The Laugh Factory. “People buy tickets to see the show because they recognize his name.”

Obviously, people just need to be near the World Champion.

For more information, visit judahfriedlander.com

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