Marketplace

people have held up certain jokes of yours as being feminist. I’m thinking about “the No. 1 threat to women being men and the No. 1 threat to men is heart disease.” And then people have pointed to certain episodes of Louie, like the episode with the “fat girl” speech8 or the episode where your character stops his notreally-girlfriend from leaving his apartment and forces a kiss on her, as proof that you’re a misogynist creep. Do those discussions make you think more about how different types of people might hear your material?

No. Why would I do that? I don’t know, because you might learn something.

Everybody’s point of view is legitimate. The goal of the things I say onstage or in my shows isn’t to please everyone. My goal is not to have everyone say, “This was an excellent indictment of this bad thing.” I’m confounded by people who want that from art. “Boy, that sure showed that woman to be strong! That means that was good!” It’s so much more interesting to shed light on these things that we all argue about. We don’t have to agree on everything, and that’s okay. After I made the episode about the fat girl, I read a blog post by a young woman who was furious. She said, “I’ve been talking about this all these years and nobody gives a shit. The fact that this guy’s being carried around on people’s shoulders by some feminists makes me sick to my stomach.” And I read it and I was like, You’re totally right. I completely see that. Would that make me go, I better not touch that note again? It’s the opposite. It’s exciting to be a flash point. It’s a valid thing to have your feelings violated and hurt. Sorry, but it is. So you’re saying you have zero internal censors? You did stop saying “faggot” in your act.

Yeah, I don’t use that word anymore. But I mean, come the fuck on. How much do you want to protect each other? You discredit groups by saying they can’t be portrayed as weak. That’s a huge discredit to women to say you can’t have a woman be in a position of weakness. For a stronger person to physically assault a weaker person, there’s just no greater crime, but everyone can insult everybody. We don’t get along— that’s the human race. The idea of America is that we can be mean to each other. I really hate that line of thinking, the idea that we just need to accept meanness.

But here’s the thing: Part of what’s happened with American culture is the shit we choose to get angry about. The outrage economy. Everybody’s just such a sucker for this shit. Remember the dentist who killed Cecil the lion?9 People said, “We’re going to get that motherfucker!” There’s no humility. Nobody goes, “Jeez, I dunno anything about this. I’m going to keep my voice out of it.” I saw somebody who has 20 million Twitter followers write that the dentist should lose his business and his home and his whole life. Twenty million Twitter followers—that’s an enormous amount of influence to just go, “I am encouraging people to destroy this man’s life, and two minutes later I’m going to tweet about something completely different.” When I read that tweet I thought, I want to run into that person and say, “How’s it going?” “I’m sorry, what do you mean?” “Your campaign against that guy—how’s it going?” I mean, for you to say something that fierce about another human being, you must be like the Stephen Biko10 of activists against this one guy. But this person doesn’t give a fuck. There’s such careless outrage. I’m not an insult comedian. I’m not a person who tries to hurt people’s feelings. I don’t like downgrading people. But you’ve gotta strike out in all directions. You’re not an insult comic, but I think it’s fair to say that your work generally skews dark. What are you optimistic about? What makes you happy?

Trillions of things. I feel safe talking about dark subjects because they exist in a world full of life and beauty. Everybody who’s alive is choosing to be. You can take yourself out anytime. The whole population is a bunch of people who are choosing to keep trying. Obviously my kids and other people in my life that I love are a big part of what keeps me going, and I try to be useful to my family members. I try once in a while to call a friend and say, “Hey, what’s going on in your life? Is there anything that I can help you with right now?” Or I’ll throw influence or work at somebody who needs it. A lot of times it’s just, like, listening to a person. Life is busy. Listening is like the No. 1 thing that actually cures almost everything. A lot of times in life there’s not a solution to your situation. Sometimes something just sucks. When you’re in one of those moments where you think this is just bad, after you get it off your chest you go, “All right. I’ll be okay.” People need to be listened to. How are you feeling about your stand-up set these days?

The best I ever was as a stand-up was 2006 to 2011. That was when I just toured all year round and made a special every year. I was dedicated and obsessed with stand-up. I was so good then. Ever since then I’ve been damned good but not as good, because I’ve been making my TV show and doing standup in the off-season. So after Horace and Pete I decided I’m not going to shoot Louie anymore, and I’m on tour now. I was developing the material in clubs constantly, going to L.A. and doing the Comedy Store twice a night. I’ve got a murderous 80 minutes of material right now. Can you explain the difference, practically, between the stand-up you were doing at your peak and what you’re doing now?

I think I’m a better comedian overall than I was back then, but back then I was better at performing. When you’re that greased up onstage, you just have a higher comedy IQ. It’s the ability to go on any stage in the country and be perfectly present and able to maneuver the set and have great timing. Some of it is being in physical shape. When you’re under pressure or strain, you get dumb, you know? It’s why I started working out in boxing gyms, because you watch a guy who’s fighting, he’s in a terribly arduous moment and he’s making intelligent choices. So to me that’s when you’re 55 minutes deep into your sixth show of the week, in your fifth city of the week. You have to be able to be great right in that moment. You have to be, “You’re not going to believe what I’m going to do next.” The audience is tired, and you have to have more energy than anyone in the room. You have to be able to control the pace. At my show last night, I was talking to myself a little bit while my mouth was moving delivering material. I was thinking, You’re going too fast. Cool it. You have plenty of time and loads of shit to say. You say that you’re a better comedian overall now. In what way?

I know how to carry a subtle idea and make it mean something. I’m doing a bit right now about the kind of person who makes the choice to teach public school. It’s just a real quiet back-and-forth. For me, that’s an evolution, because I started in the clubs in Boston, and you had to get huge laughs or you might actually get beaten up. There was always that feeling that you had to be on the balls of your feet, killing the whole time—that makes for a good 45-minute act, but you’ve got to evolve past

11. A smoking, wannabe-hip priest in sunglasses, Father Guido Sarducci rambled his way through Vatican gossip briefs and reviews of the pope’s musical efforts.

12. An Emo Philips joke: “I like libraries. I was in one in New York, the guy was very rude. I said, ‘I’d like a card.’ He says, ‘You have to prove you’re a citizen of New York.’ So I stabbed him.”

13. The late-night talk show ‘The Chris Rock Show’ aired from 1997 to 2000, winning one Emmy.

14. A Michelle Wolf joke: “Nothing electrifies a room more than the words ‘Hillary Clinton.’ I think it’d make a really good safe word. Then you’d know to stop but you also couldn’t keep going.” 15. A Barry Crimmins joke: “We have a presidential election coming up. And I think the big problem, of course, is that someone will win.”

that to be worth watching for over an hour. Being great in first gear is something I’m constantly trying to get better at. What was it about comedy that made you think, That’s what I have to do?

Anytime I heard stand-up comedy or saw someone doing it, I was electrif ied. It made me go crazy. It was fun. It felt friendly. It made ever ybody open up. Whenever I saw somebody talking, just being themselves and saying stuff that’s a little inappropriate but saying it fearlessly, then everyone laughing and taking part in it, I just loved it. This is a weird source of inspiration, but there was an album that I had, it was Father Guido Sarducci from Saturday Night Live.11 Paul something? Don Novello was the comedian’s real name.

Yeah. So he did a comedy album, and it’s him doing his stand-up act for a bunch of nuns in a convent. Maybe they were studying to be nuns. And for a Catholic he’s being very provocative; it’s a freeing, funny record. It’s silly and deliberate. I used to listen to it constantly. And Emo Philips,12 he did a record at Harvard that’s also great. Jokes always have the potential to fail, so it’s a dangerous place for everyone in the room to be in, and when it goes well it’s warming. It’s cathartic. So when I was on the outside looking in, I just would go, Wow, what a lovely thing. Music is wonderful, and I always loved movies, and I always loved television, but stand-up was this direct, frank, humane thing. It always felt good. So the first time I ever heard that there was a way that I could do it, or try it, I knew instantly I was going to. What comedians are you seeing now who you think are great?

Samantha Bee. Samantha is inevitable. She’s the next thing. We’re all talking about the same shit, but there’s always somebody out there that’s hitting a chord like nobody else, and that person is her. I remember when I worked on Chris Rock’s show on HBO,13 Chris was that person at that time. Chris was just devastating. He was a black man and he was saying things from that point of view, but he was saying it with personal intelligence and hilariousness. I’ll take some credit, because he brought together a great writing staff and we created great pieces for him, with his leadership. What is it about Samantha?

This is the new thing with her: She’s not smug. All of these guys, even Jon Stewart, who’s a fucking genius, he would get upset but he always stayed cool. Guys like to be a little above it. They like to be in control. Even after ranting, they suddenly calm down and smile. But Samantha doesn’t do that. She’s really fucking mad! She’s like, Yes, I am a fucking feminist! She’s right about everything that I see her talk about. She’s by far the most interesting as far as, here’s my take on this shit that everybody else is chewing on.

Who else?

As far as stand-ups, Michelle Wolf 14 is great right now. She’s relentless, funny, consistent. Then there’s guys like Barry Crimmins,15 who is a political satirist from the ’80s. I’m actually shooting a stand-up special for him that I’m producing and putting on my website. Barry’s a great voice from the past who’s still kicking.

When you talk about Samantha Bee speaking to what people are thinking about in the best and most provocative way—did you ever feel like you were that person?

I don’t look at myself from the outside in that much. I think there’s been a few times where I’ve hit a chord that’s felt like, Hey, that’s a great way to say that, that feels important right now. I’ve kind of stumbled into those moments. But for every bit I’ve done, like, this is the way to say that technology has robbed us of feelings, I also have one that’s about diarrhea or my father’s balls. I’m so equally happy to be gross and talk about having Hitler blow me if I had a time machine. Do you care if people lean more toward one side of your material than the other?

I know that if I just talked about bright, crispy things that have wider meaning, then I’d be at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner. I’d be a Kennedy Center kind of guy, but that’s not fun. It’s the same on the other side. There’s a lot of people who love my disgusting stuff that probably think I’m a fucking jack-off asshole social-justice-warrior type. It makes them want to vomit when I talk about something that has meaning. I agree with both. I hate both sides of my act equally. But I’m compelled to do both. The confessional, auteur thing that you did with Louie is all over comedy television now. How does it feel to have this style you helped create become its own sort of cliché?

George Carlin once said that Americans have this unique ability to take any idea, good or bad, and run it into the ground. Anything that works gets repeated

16. Shandling’s influential HBO hit ‘The Larry Sanders Show.’

17. Waters’s film ‘Pink Flamingos’ (1972) follows drag queen Divine as she battles for the title of “the filthiest person alive.” The movie ends with Divine eating an actual dog turd.

18. Writer and director of dozens of movies, John Sayles spent $60,000 to fund his critically acclaimed 1979 drama ‘Return of the Secaucus 7.’ and then diluted. That’s normal. I don’t own whatever DNA is in Louie that was passed on through some strange television asexual reproduction. Certainly there’s people that came before me that did something similar to what I was doing. Some of my heroes did it. Garry Shandling’s show16 was so much about this one kind of corrupt, messed-up guy. Even Jerry Seinfeld’s show was a version of it. So I don’t know if I accept your argument. It goes way back. I kind of took my version of it and passed it on. There’s plenty of DNA in my show. What John Waters17 did is not far from what I do—making my own things the way I want to and ignoring the idea that I need permission. It’s like, I was talking with my mom about the environment and how it’s going to shit. She feels the same way, but she’s 70-plus so she’s got a different take. She goes, “You won’t be here.” And I said, “But my kids will.” She said, “Even in your kids’ time, it’s not going to matter.” “What about my great-grandkids?” She says, “Well, they’re only an eighth yours.” So you only have to feel an eighth responsible for them?

Yeah. Your part of their pedigree is fractional. That’s how I feel about Louie. When somebody does something independent, they go, “Hey, that’s a new idea,” but I mean, John Sayles,18 that guy used to make his own mov ies and patched together the financing. It’d be easy to just run a career and go be in three big studio comedies every year and go be in a big network series. There’s this road I could just take, but I’m more excited by people like Lina Wertmüller,19 that fucking Italian lady and those crazy movies that she made: Swept Away, Seven Beauties. Because your stuff is so confessional and so autobiographical, do you ever get sick of being in your own head all the time?

Oh, definitely. Actually, in the last few years, a lot of my act has gravitated away from me. It’s more generalized. It hits harder, it’s better. There’s a lot of things that have changed in the last few years about my act. I used to say “fuck” constantly. When I saw my special Shameless, I say “fuck” every other word. It’s hard to watch, and then by the time I got to, I think, Oh My God, that special, I don’t say “fuck” until like 14 minutes in. So yeah, I think I’ve changed. I’m more interested in other people’s lives than my own, generally. I get tired of my own shit. n

19. The first woman nominated for the Academy Award for Best Director, Wertmüller made 24 films, including the 1975 black comedy Seven Beauties, about an Italian WWII deserter who survives a concentration camp by trying to seduce a female officer.