Chris D’Elia’s stage is set for a hallmark 2013

Chris D’Elia’s manic stage presence and energetic delivery make him perfectly suited for life as a standup comic, but when he was trying to break into comedy he first took a different route. D’Elia tried his hand at being an actor first, then a writer, but when that wasn’t working out, he decided to take the plunge into the do-or-die world of standup. As it turns out, it was the best thing the young comedian could have done.

“With standup, I started out of frustration,” D’Elia says, speaking with Submerge over the phone before a gig in Denver, Colo. “I was a writer and an actor and I wasn’t getting any work.”

Becoming a standup comic was always his ultimate goal, D’Elia says, but originally he didn’t take the stage out of a desire to follow his dream. More so, he felt he had no other option to get his career off the ground.

“I just got on stage at a loss,” he says. “I was like, you know what? I’m not doing anything. I was 25, and when I got on stage I finally felt like this is what I’m going to do. This is me. This is great. And it became what I do. It’s how I get work in acting and everything. Anything I’m a part of it’s because they know me from standup and it’s great.”

His work as a comic eventually got him his break in acting. D’Elia starred as Alex Smith, Whitney Cummings’ live-in boyfriend on the NBC sitcom Whitney. The show ran for two years, but was just canceled in March 2013.

“I loved Whitney,” he says. “I loved the cast and crew. I woke up every day and got to do what I wanted to do. Not a lot of people can say that.”

While D’Elia was sad to see Whitney go, it won’t be the last you’ll see of him on network television. In the fall, his own show Undateable will premiere in the fall, also for NBC. The half-hour, multi-camera sit-com has Scrubs’ executive producer Bill Lawrence at the helm and is written by Due Date’s Adam Sztykiel. In it, D’Elia serves as the main lead, Danny Beeman. Brent Morin, who opens for D’Elia’s standup act, will also star in the show.

In June, D’Elia will also begin filming a movie.

“It’s called Flock of Dudes,” he says. “It’s about a group of guys who are too close of friends, and it’s ruining their lives, so they decide to break up and not hang out with each other for six months, but they all work together so they’re trying to avoid each other. It’s pretty funny.”

Standup was the springboard for his career, but D’Elia is as focused as ever on his stagecraft. In the following interview, he talks about his popularity on video sharing app Vine, his standup career, conquering his fear of the stage and what life is like as a “black comic.”

You’re in Denver tonight right?
Yeah, I am. It’s really nice up here.

I’ve been through Denver once. It’s a fun city, but it’s got a weird vibe. I don’t know if it’s the mountain air or what. People seem a little wilder up there.
Yeah, I think it might be because at certain times of the year they don’t have much to do so they go nuts.

Does the altitude affect you in any way since you talk on stage for an hour?
The last time I was here, it did. It definitely takes its toll on me. I get anxious. A few days in, I get short of breath. But I live.

I was checking out some of your standup clips on YouTube the past few days leading up to the interview. How do you feel about clips of your live show being up online for free?
If it was already on TV, I don’t care. If it was already on TV, then it’s good to have it up online too so people can access it, so I like that. When it’s just from the club, or a fan or audience member did it, I always message them to take it down, and they’re usually pretty cool about it. If it’s like The Laugh Factory shooting it—they’ll shoot a lot of their shows and they’ll ask you if they can put up stuff—I always tell them no with the material and OK if I’m just messing around with the audience, because that’s just going to be a one-time thing. It’s not something I’m working on.

Yeah, I noticed a lot of The Laugh Factory clips, which is why I asked. I noticed a lot of them were you interacting with your audience…
Yeah, that’s why they’re up there. Sometimes because of that, people think that’s what I do at shows, that I mess with the audience, and that’s not the case. I don’t like that. I don’t enjoy it. I’d rather do my act than have somebody heckle me, because that’s annoying.

So audience participation isn’t something you particularly enjoy?
No. I’ll do it, because I like to put people in their place for being rude.

I saw a couple of clips where you were ragging on Drake…
Yeah, I don’t know. I’ll be driving to the clubs, and there’ll be hip-hop on, and then I’ll be like, “I’m going to talk about this on stage.” Those two bits, those were like the only times I did those, and Laugh Factory got them on camera. If it’s a really current topic I’m talking about, I don’t mind if they use it, because it’s not like I’m going to be talking about it for a few years. If the song’s hot, maybe it’ll catch on. And they did.

Have you gotten any backlash from Drake fans?
No not really. I don’t know if Drake saw them or anything. I say in the clip that I like his music, so it’s not a hateful thing.

You told us about trying to become an actor and writer before trying standup. Was acting or writing your first focus?
I always wanted to do comedy first and foremost, but I wanted to be an actor. I wasn’t getting work as an actor, so I started writing. I thought maybe I could write a good script and maybe do that, create my own opportunity. That didn’t work out. I was like, forget it, I’m going to get on stage because I need people to immediately see what I’m doing. I need some people to recognize what I do. Even if they’re going to boo me, at least people are seeing my work.

Does being on a sit-com or working on a TV show cut into your standup routine at all?
Not too much. I did 430 shows before I got on Whitney, and when I got on Whitney, I was able to do 300 and something. So, it’s a little bit. It kind of makes me obsess about it less, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It’s all for the standup, dude. All the TV and all the other stuff, whatever helps get people in the seats and have me do shows is the best. I shot my special about a month and half ago in New Orleans, so it doesn’t slow me down too much…

Standup is what I always wanted to do, but I was afraid to do it. It took getting beat up in the business for me to actually be like, alright, I’m going to get on stage. Standup was the first thing I ever wanted to do though.

Was it just the business being rough that got you over that fear or was there another catalyst?
It’s like this, dude. If you’re getting beat up in an alley by three guys and another dude comes along like, “I’m going to beat that guy up too,” you’re like, OK, bring it on. It’s like, what’s one more dude? That’s what I was like when I was like I’ll do standup.

I was looking at your Twitter feed today and I saw that you’ve been posting a lot of videos on Vine, which is really starting to pick up steam, even though it’s not at Instagram level yet.
No, it’s not at Instagram level yet, but it’s a force to be reckoned with. It’s pretty much the only thing I get recognized for now. If I’m walking down the street, people are like, “Oh my God, you’re the guy on Vine!”

The stuff you’re doing on Vine almost seems like guerilla comedy. You find things that happen on the street or wherever and you comment on them. Have you been attracting a lot of followers?
I’ve got one of the most followers on Vine, I think. But I think it’s cool because it’s just purely me. It’s nothing else but what I would do with six seconds. Some people are buying wigs and shit on Vine and trying to make funny videos. I’m just trying to comment and be funny.

Has anyone you’ve commented on ever caught you and taken exception to it?
No one has caught me in the act, but a few people have commented on it later and said, “Hey, that’s me!”

So they’re more honored than anything else?
Yeah, they’re honored. I was Vineing at the mall in Dallas, and the kid left school and came to the mall. This kid came and said, “I saw you Vineing, so I left school and came to the mall,” so I did a Vine with him. It was really funny.

The other thing I’d noticed on your Twitter feed is that your headline reads, “White male. Black comic.” Were black standup comedians your biggest influences in comedy?
I always liked that style, but also it was an inside joke. This other comedian, Erik Griffin, he’s black and he would always say about my act—because I’m all animated and shit—that, “you’re blacker than I am on stage.” It was a joke, but I would say, “Yeah, I’m a white dude, but a black comic.” I put it up as my Twitter headline as a joke and then people started to talk about it on my Twitter feed. I think that’s what I’m going to name my comedy special, White Male, Black Comic.

Chris D’Elia will perform three nights at Punch Line in Sacramento from June 6–8, 2013. To buy tickets, go to Chrisdelia.com and click “Tour.” Follow him on Twitter @chrisdelia.

Comedian Ellis Rodriguez takes a yeoman’s approach to standup

It’s 10 p.m. on a Sunday and I’m in a bowling alley bar with the hottest girl in Elk Grove (her claim) and local comedian Ellis Rodriguez. The topic of discussion: who has the best life ever? The 22-year old Elk Grove girl swears up and down it’s her, since she coined the phrase “best life ever,” but her mom has to drive her home for political reasons. I feel as though I’m disqualified from the competition because I’m drinking in a bowling alley bar in South Sacramento. But Rodriguez is the closest to actually living it because, as he puts it, “I draw comic books and I tell dick jokes. That is the best life ever.”

I meet up with Rodriguez the next day at the Stoney Inn a couple hours prior to its open mic night, which is complemented by country karaoke night in the adjacent room. What type of crowd attends this open mic, I ask? “Random assortment of mostly urban comedy goers,” is his reply. This is the trenches for a comedian. In a night’s time I receive a crash course in one comedian’s regimen for sharpening his jokes just to squeeze one funny minute out of the week.

His first night up was an open mic at Old Ironsides. He says with conviction that he became a full-time comic the day he got on stage, but at the time he did not have a job standing in the way. Rodriguez was living out of his car, working comedy at night for three months before a friend got him a job as a branch manager selling wholesale toilets.

“I was branch manager/trainer/operations recruiter for the number one wholesaling plumbing company in the world,” he says. “Great company. Great people. Couldn’t fucking stand it.”

He gave his days to toilets, but the nights were long drives to San Francisco to wait around at open mics for opportunities to do five minutes on stage. Keep in mind it is comedy courtesy to stay until the end.

“Once I drove to Pleasanton for an open mic,” Rodriguez says. “Another comedian told me about it, and I looked forward to it all 12 hours of my shift that day. I got into work at 4:30 [a.m.] that day. At 5 [p.m.] I headed straight there after work only to arrive to an empty bar that wasn’t even open. I heard there was some stage time in San Francisco so I went to get some time only to arrive and be told that I ‘might be able’ to get some stage time. I stayed until the end that night, desperate for time. I was the last one called up at 11:14 p.m. I got home at 1 a.m. and it was inventory week. I had to pull a 12-hour shift again the next day. Par for the course.”

Now a full-time comic, Rodriguez employs a strict regimen that includes open mics Mondays through Wednesdays and paid gigs at clubs on the weekends. The drive I ride along for begins on Del Paso Boulevard, treks up to Folsom and then over to Roseville. He’s never alone, though. His 2-year old Italian Greyhound named Muñeca rides along. “Tonight I’ll do three [open mics], tomorrow I’ll do two, Wednesday I’ll do four or five and then work the weekend,” he says. “It’s one of the few things I’m actually regimented about. There’s no excuse. None of the mics start before 8 [p.m.]… you can get up by 8.”

Rodriguez goes up around 8:30 p.m. at Stoney Inn to the crowd he predicted. Minutes before he goes up, he’s in my ear scrolling through his cell phone notes, running jokes by me that he might try out. It’s a fleeting moment of meekness. The related fragments have potential, but it’s when he takes the stage, assuming a confident persona, that Rodriguez discovers exactly what it is about “testing out white slavery for a month” that makes people laugh. Rodriguez just secured another minute toward his full hour set.

“I write around five to 10 minutes every week,” he says. “If you write 10 minutes, then one minute is going to be good. You keep that minute. At the end of the year I’ve got another 52 minutes.”

Rodriguez is in his fifth year of standup, tirelessly logging hours and pages of notes. He records all his sets, reviewing the tape like a scouting coach hoping to find flaws and room for improvement. “I do black rooms, white rooms, alternative rooms,” he says. “I do every room I possibly can to get as good as I can be in that room. You have to be able to read an audience and know how to react to it, but not necessarily think that once you crush it for 10 minutes that you’ve conquered that room. Can you do it again with different material?”

An hour later we’re at Po Boyz Sports Bar & Grill in Folsom and, save for three 20-somethings having a night out and the owner’s friends, the room is littered with comedians waiting to get up. Cheryl the Soccer Mom from the Real Funny Housewives of Rio Linda is hosting, and a young comedian is on stage venting about being excluded from the News & Review’s comedian feature. It’s a hostage situation.

Unfortunately it creates discomfort in the room that seems impenetrable as several comedians to follow struggle with the sound of silence. Rodriguez embraces the awkwardness and begins riffing hard on his friend Samm Hickey, who’s in the room. He tries out an AIDS joke we’ve discussed a few times that has yet to reach its full potential. We step outside to smoke a cigarette after his set and casually discuss the dos and don’ts of STD jokes. To him there’s something undeniably funny about saying his friend, who was recently diagnosed with AIDS, having “double AIDS,” even if it didn’t go over well the previous night in Elk Grove.

“I think I did all the herpes things,” he says. “I did most of the crabs thing, but they were really uncomfortable. I think there were a couple people that had that shit. I wanted to write another STD joke, but I’ve found that nobody knows enough about gonorrhea or syphilis for it to be funny. It’s just gross.”

Throughout the night I gather insider knowledge about the ideal crowd from Rodriguez and overhearing other comedians relate stories. Rodriguez tells me it was not the crowd itself, and never should be blamed, that made his Elk Grove show difficult, nor is it the presence of a bowling alley in the next room. An ideal room is dark, slightly chilly and compact. One comedian stressed the importance of seating the audience in order to prevent a scattered crowd.

“The crowd was too spread out so they are able to form a consensus of what’s funny within their little groups,” Rodriguez says of the Elk Grove gig. “They didn’t have to worry about what the people around them were feeling. That contagiousness of laughter is what makes it easy. But, if you can kill that crowd, then you’re going to destroy whatever show is set up properly.”

It is nearing midnight and we’ve arrived at the Boxing Donkey, a narrow Irish Pub in Roseville, for our final open mic. The bouncer asks that Rodriguez, a former Marine, tuck in his tags and Jesus piece–apparently they’ve had chain issues previously.

I ask Rodriguez about his time in the military, considering he was always a jokester growing up. “I was not a good Marine, at first,” he says. He was 19 and distracted with partying instead of attending his college courses when he decided to join the military.

“I’ll join the Marine Corps because they’ll make a man out of me,” he says. “I realized very quickly that Marine Corps does not make a man out of you. It gives you the opportunity to be a man. It puts you in situations where you’re pushed and strained. You’re constantly being tested and the choices you make, make you a man or a Marine.”

The Marine Corps wasn’t all precision posture, firm salutes and combat training, though. Rodriguez says there was still room for humor. “One of the things we did was send a person to retrieve an ID10Tango form on the other side of the base. They’d show up and the people there would say, ‘what are you doing here, you get that from ADMIN first, then ADMIN would say, ‘you need an ID10Tango release from your unit.’ They would come back and someone would finally tell them to write down ID10Tango. I. D. 10. T.”

It is nearing 1 a.m. when Rodriguez seizes the mic at Boxing Donkey. The room is brightly lit, less than ideal, but it gives him a visual on the room’s reaction. By now he’s told the bit about being so drunk at a Halloween party that he actually thought he was Superman for the third time in the night, but he is orating with the proper emphasis and pauses to make absurd glances to pull the most laughter. He takes notice of a group of black men not laughing much by the bar. “I’ve got one for you guys,” he says and launches into the white slavery bit, winning over the doubters with a blindside punch line.

I don’t get back to my Malibu parked on Del Paso Boulevard until 1:40 a.m. The Stoney Inn is long closed, I’ve got a burger in my hand from Jack in the Box and a guy on a bicycle is circling Rodriguez’s car giving us weird looks before pedaling off. He tells me he’ll wait until I get in my car before he drives off. It’s par for the course for Rodriguez, but for me it’s damn exhausting.

“I’ve got hours to log,” he says. “You keep coming back until you get a nice easy room at The Improv opening for Bruce Bruce and you’ve only got to do 25 minutes, but you’re going to kill because you did all these gigs at crappy open mics working out new material in bars and bowling alleys.”

Ellis Rodriguez will perform at Tommy T’s in Rancho Cordova on April 28, 2011. This will be a live DVD taping. Also performing are Dennis Martinez and Hunter Hill. This 17-and-over show starts at 8 p.m.