Lewis Black Interview

by Ryan McKee
February 2004

Yale Drama School, an interesting place for a hilarious, screaming social commentator to begin. Lewis Black’s been a standup ‘legitimately’ for 15 years. He says, “I started headlining in 1988. Before that it was a side thing. Kind of like that guy who has a full-time job and does comedy on the side, however, my full-time job was writing plays. How stupid was that? Let me have no income to support no income. I missed the 80’s standup boom. Another good career move on my part: ‘You know, I’m going to write plays while the industry is forming’.”

I heard you started out in standup by reading the newspaper on stage and yell at the audience about it.
When I started, I managed this theater in New York. We did weekly shows. I would sometimes just rip things out of the newspaper which pissed me off and then I’d take them up on stage with me and just start yelling at the audience.

How were the crowds on the Dave Attell/Lewis Black tour?
Great. I think we sold out all but a couple of venues. And the venues we didn’t sell out, we still sold a ton of tickets. It was hugely successful. I think it shocked everybody in a way, including ourselves. We did two shows in New York and that was like 5200 people. That’s crazy.

You beat Dave Attell for Comic of the Year in 2000, do you taunt him with that?
Well, he knows why I won. It’s not because I was funnier that him, it’s because I’m a better person.

You’ve been on Comedy Central how long?
Seven years on “The Daily Show,” but I started appearing on Comedy Central about 10 years ago.

Are you their Golden Boy?
If I’m the Golden Boy, I’d hate to see the Butt Boy. I don’t know, a lot of it had to do with where I was at and where they were at. It’s an even exchange. But it’s amazing because a lot of people let this shit go to their heads, but you put anybody on two nights a week for seven years and people are going to pay attention.

Did you have to put Jon Stewart in his place when he came to the show?
I knew Jon pretty well, so it wasn’t too bad. I’m glad he was there. I was disappointed that they didn’t even give me a shot at hosting. They didn’t even let me audition. They said, you know, we need you to be who you are. I said I can do more than who I am. But it turned out great because anything that means more work, I think about for 10 minutes and then say, ‘Gee, I don’t think I want to do that much work.’

I read that you’ve had a lot of trouble getting your own show, that the industry tends to pigeonhole you.
People ask me why I don’t have my own show and I tell them to go ask my agent. I don’t know. I mean, part of me realizes that they would never know what to do with me because I’m kind of nuts. These people don’t leave Los Angeles, so they don’t know what’s going on. All anybody has to do is walk into one of these concerts where Dave and I are attracting an audience that is across the board. Granted that 60% of the demographic is young guys, but 40% is everybody else in the goddamn universe. So, it’d me nice to have my own show, but I could be on a show where I’m playing the duck’s ass. You never know where you’re going to go, so at least I’m in a good spot where I’ve found an audience.

I’ve heard that there’s a comedic hierarchy where the jugglers and prop comedians are at the bottom and the political comedians look down on everybody else.
Political comics look down on everybody else? They must have a self-image problem. We political comedians have always been treated as if we were bottom-feeders. We’re not even noticed. To me, it’s nice for a person to have a point of view and do their work. You don’t expect that by having a 20-minute set that will catapult you somewhere. I think it’s that simple: you have a point-of-view, you’re funny, you do your work. People do disparage against ventriloquists and mimes, well, mimes can blow me. But you know, never underestimate how well a dumb joke will go over. What are you going to do? I’ve got about five jokes in my act that I can’t believe I’m saying aloud.

 Is it hard being a political comedian because you constantly have to write new material?
When I hit the road and first started doing this full-time, everybody said I was a political comedian and I was doing only 8-minutes of politics. Most just comes from whatever is going on socially. Like Britney Spears at The Super Bowl, which goes to show we’re living in a giant toilet bowl. Every time I don’t think I have anything to talk about, I open the paper and there you go. Today they’re saying there’s a 7% improvement on gross national product or some shit and they’re all screaming that the economy is back on track. I mean, what planet do you live on? We still have the same amount of people unemployed. They’re crazy. As long as the upper eyes don’t close, I’ve got something to point at.

Seinfield made a whole documentary about throwing away his old stuff and writing all new material, but you’re constantly doing that.
I work 4 or 5 nights a week, so if I didn’t find new material, I’d lose my mind. It amazes me when you see a comic do the same act over and over again for years. Even the jokes I do a lot, I add new things to them. I’ve got this dopey candy corn bit I’ve been doing for years. Initially when I did it on “Conan,” it was a minute and a half. Now it’s five minutes.

Are there clubs in New York where you go to workout new stuff?
Most things I workout just on the road. I like working at the Tempe Improv because I’ve worked stuff out there. I try new stuff at any club I feel comfortable.

How does Lewis Black keep it real?
I don’t think about it a lot. I just think about what I gotta do on stage and I don’t think about the rest of it. All I really worry about is how I’m getting from one place to the next.