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.