June 30: Irwin Barker tribute (repeat)

Three years and nine days ago, on June 21, 2010, the great Irwin Barker passed away. Irwin was one of my all-time favourite comics and people. He guested twice on this program and soon after he died I cobbled together clips from his two appearances in tribute to the man. The thinking man's comic talked about the writing process, taming a crowd and living with cancer. And I throw in a couple of clips of his standup. It's great to hear his voice again. If you're a young comic and you haven't heard this before, I highly recommend it. Irwin is a fount of knowledge about the art form and he gives tons of great advice.

The show's been available in podcast form for a few years now but if you missed it or don't know how to download episodes, tune in tonight at 11 pm PST to CFRO, 100.5 FM or livestream the show at coopradio.org.

Podcast episode 231ish: Sam Easton

Little Sammy Easton is all growed up. Or is on his way. The man-child went the way of the hairline and now Sam Easton is a man in transition. In this episode, Sam talks about that transition as well as his relationship with the late great Irwin Barker and how far they'd go for the laugh. He also reveals who the most disappointing act he's ever seen live is (hint: he's coming to town soon!)

Here's the deal: This gizmo below will play the episode for you right here, right now. Or, if you'd rather, go download it to your iPod or MP3 device over at iTunes. I'll admit, the levels are a little 'hot', as we say in the business (it sounds a bit distorted) but we're working on it. We believe it's a station streaming issue and believe me, heads will roll. But don't let that stop you from enjoying this week's podcast.

Ron James interview

I just noticed I have a bunch of interviews in the bank that I've never uploaded. Most of my phone interviews for the paper are transcribed and housed over at the Comedy Couch. And that's where this one will go, too. But as I get caught up, I figured I'd also run them here.

This first one is from a couple years ago with Ron James. You may notice lots of square brackets and dots. That's because my digital recorder was on the fritz and I was losing a couple seconds here and there. But not much. There's still lots here from the always spirited and interesting comic.

Ron James – February 28, 2008

"I know now for a fact that improv can't hold a candle to doing standup. It's not the same buzz, it just isn't. It feels infantile to me at times. When you see guys who do it really well, great. But improv needs a rewrite." – Ron James

Guy MacPherson: Is there a certain amount of time you like to wait before hitting a city again?
Ron James: Yeah, usually 18 months to two years. It's like sensible forestry practices, you know. You don't want to go in and clear cut. You want to leave a few trees for when you go back next time. Pardon the logging metaphor. I alway try to touch on some kind of icon for whatever region I'm playing.

GM: You're always quick with the analogy or metaphor.
RJ: That's been the boon of these tours, right? Being able to embrace the mystery of people and place clear across the big wide open and try to find my comedic mileage and what makes each region tick.

GM: You'll do the BC stuff in other regions, won't you?
RJ: Oh, yeah. Yeah, absolutely. From time to time I'll do that. The further east you get, the less folks... Because Canada is defined by its regions, right? But there's a universality to British Columbia, of course, across the country. The Rockies, the Super Natural element. I think that's what resonated for the public with the last special. There was so much emphasis placed on recreation and nature and the ramifications of a changing planet. And BC's pretty enlightened when it comes to that. And it just so happened that that was an element of the zeitgeist that was finding its resonance for the public at that time. So it was good timing.

GM: When you say 18 months to two years, you stagger these out, obviously, so you're not just sitting at home between tours.
RJ: Oh, yeah. No, there's no such thing as sitting at home. I come into the office every day and work. I try to write my special in the summer time after I've been on tour. It's like a journalist in the field. I keep a notepad with me and I'll write new material in my tours and compile them and give it a run on its legs to see how it plays. It's all in its infant stages right then. There's a long gestation period actually for some material. And then some material literally goes right from the page to the stage. I mean this last one I did back home, that I shot in Halifax in October, because I didn't tour ahead of time, ... you open up with 68 or 72 pages in your head hoping you don't blank.

GM: I was wondering about that. A stage actor will sometimes forget a line or just blank.
RJ: Oh, Christ, yeah. But that makes it exciting, too. I like there to be an element of danger in a show so that the audience isn't quite sure where we're going yet at the same time there's a confidence that they invest in you for the entirety of the ride. But for the most part, I labour over [individual words] and things like that. I do write my material. Particularly those passages that need that rhythm. A comedian finds his style over time.

I love the way words paint that picture. I like words that trip off the tongue and tickle the ear as well as the funny bone. I like an audience to get a bit more bang for their buck than just a laugh.

GM: I guess your background in improv helps you if you ever draw a blank.
RJ: Yeah, the years at Second City I suppose gave me stage skills but I'd never be presumptuous enough to... And I know now for a fact that improv can't hold a candle to doing standup. It's not the same buzz, it just isn't. It feels infantile to me at times. When you see guys who do it really well, great. But improv needs a rewrite.

What I discovered with the tribe of standups is that everybody has had this crucible of fire by themselves and there's not a standup on his pins today who hasn't gone through the trenches of amateur night and from there playing different rooms out there by themselves. My brothers and sisters in the standup legions have my utmost respect. But the equation is refreshingly forthright. In a day when the world is increasingly complex and fractured, the equation for standup comedy is simple: get laughs or get off. Then I think you have to set your standards as to what you're getting your laughs with.

I think in deference to the old days of improv and stuff with Second City, there was always a standard there. That name was evocative of a strong tradition of quality. You always had a director telling you, "Don't put that in a scene" or "Take that out". So I was always aware of the process of editing and honing it down to the kernel of the joke. But what's refreshing about standup, which has been my meal ticket for the last 15 years almost, is you don't have to filter your comedic point of view through five other people. There's no safety net. It's just you and the audience and the primal hum. It's just you and the paying public and the visceral hit of the evening. For those 90 minutes to two hours you're on that stage, you're given the opportunity to make sense of the chaos we're all walking through. The plumber and the professor sitting side by side can be laughing at different things in the same joke. Without getting too maudlin about the reward, it's religion of the funny bone. [People come] from different walks of life and genders and money and socio-economic standing and all those things and they're all laughing. What is it about my grandmother wearing a hat that still had the fox head on it when I went to church with her in 1968? Why does that resonate for people? What do people feel about the mystery and the mythology of the country through the seasons?

These are things that are in my set and for some reason or other they resonate and it's as much of a mystery to me as anything. [As soon as] you think you've got it figured out, you're fucked. I think you always have to come to the work with a humility. And that's married to the confidence of the delivery, of course.

GM: Can you comment on the world more in standup than improv?
RJ: I suppose. Improv's great training to make you think on your feet but at the end of the day I want my work to last. There's a longevity to a joke. There's a shelf life to a certain perspective on things that will stay forever, and that's a good feeling. It's alchemy, too, isn't it? I mean, where does it come from? Where do you haul it from? You just go [to your desk in the morning] and you're contracted to write a 90-minute show that's gotta be funny. Where are you going to haul that from? And you do. It just comes from following your bliss and trying to marshal some kind of cynicism into that stew. It eventually finds its legs over time and becomes a comedic point of view, whether it's on people or place or whether it's on growing up, the future or Canadian politics or anything. But my show isn't heavy politically, I wouldn't say. I like to have a pretty eclectic buffet. I like there to be a lot of choice in there over the 90 minutes.

GM: You put in the work. You talk about going to the office every day. Are you like some people – okay, me – who sit around until the deadline nears?
RJ: Listen, man, there's lots to be said for deadlines. Holy geez! That's the whole thing, you know? If the Normandy invasion were up to me, we'd be working the kinks out of it right at the 11th hour. But yeah, there's lots to be said for deadlines. But you gotta come in every day, though. It's a job, right? You gotta do the grunt work. I mean, the performance is the boon. That's what's fun.

GM: I think some comics forget the grunt work and just want the glory.
RJ: Well, I can't speak for how other guys decide to build their material ... but I've got a responsibility. If somebody's paying 42 bucks for a ticket – and the tickets didn't start at that price; we were able to build up to that level. But if somebody's made the effort to buy my ticket and to actually leave the house when there's so much entertainment that can keep them right there in the media room, and to call some friends and maybe have a meal or something, you've got a responsibility to make sure that they leave having had an authentic experience. Because so much is driven by hype. How often have you gone to something that's been driven by hype, with certain pop culture notoriety? I want people to feel they've had a good time and heard a different perspective on things.

"I like to get that roll and pitch. I really like to take the car out on the highway for a spin." – Ron James

GM: I was talking to Irwin Barker recently.
RJ: Oh, my goodness! What a great guy. He's a warrior, man, and a really funny cat.

GM: He was talking about his writing process. He will sit down and actually research a topic and write an essay – not even funny – before he can start paring away and editing and looking for the humour.
RJ: That's really interesting. And it parallels the approach to my specials. Quest for the West was about Alberta and Saskatchewan. I spent four months researching those provinces. I had toured them so I got a feel. I felt the heartline hum of region beneath my wheels and felt that November wind come rolling over the plateau. And I was up at Fort McMurray. And the same with BC. I travelled through the Kootenays in the spring when everything was exploding in this scream of green. I was down there in funky Nelson town or Qualicum Beach, where, to the left of me, there was this ancient couple, a pair of Methuselas, sitting on a park bench necking, and I said to myself, "Geez, it's nice it still goes on but we don't have to see it." From the proletariat's perspective ... the windshield or on your feet or smelling the smells and hearing the sounds where you're travelling.

And then the next level is as you said Irwin approaches it. You write, you research, and you find the spine of the story. You can't not do enough research. The more you know, the more you have to choose from. You really need to have more on your plate than you're going to use because not all of it is going to be golden, you know? But once you're on your pins, you have to sell that baby so you better have your convictions and beliefs down pat.

GM: You're both very thorough comics. A lot of comics today have a great premise, one punchline, then they're on to something else. And you go, "Wha--? That's it?"
RJ: You have to trust your instincts in that regard. You'll have a piece and there's that little voice inside your head that's alawys saying, "No, no, no". You have to know your audience. You never want somebody walking away feeling just exactly what you said, Guy. They have to know that they got the full buffet. That's the rule.

GM: Not to stay with Irwin, but another analogy of his that I love is that when a regular person loses their keys, once they find them they stop looking. But a comic's job is to keep looking even after he's found them. Keep looking for different angles. You don't just stop after finding the first punchline.
RJ: I guess we're analytical by nature. It's chaos. Comedy comes from chaos for me. That's where I find my mileage, just hoping to get the sun in your face and the wind at your back and somewhere in this victory of baby steps, in our march through life's bright fury, we're hoping to have an easy day. We're hoping there'll be some small victories along the way. And I guess that process from A to B, for me, anyway, is where the funny lands, whether I'm over my head at Future Shop staring at a bank of television sets realizing that I've got 50 years on Planet Earth and three years of university and every frigging book in my house is for dummies. I look at big subjects and I try to put the average person's spin on it, I guess. It's just the journey of the everyman, which is the journey we're all on, just to follow our bliss and hope that you reap a few boons at the end of a working day.

But anger fuels the funny, too. You gotta be pissed off a little bit, you know?

GM: Do you have to really care about a topic or do you just have to understand that they make for good comedic subjects?
RJ: That's a great question. It's six of one, half a dozen of the other. Not everything is going to be a sermon driven by piss and vinegar. You have to have a balance of all kinds of topics in your set and some observations are just light comedic observations. I've got a bit of a rant on Afghanistan and Iraq ... and I needed to care about it, you know? So it all depends on the kind of subject that you're wrapping your head around.

GM: Have you been to Afghanistan?
RJ: No, I haven't. I have not been over that way. I did one of those tours once and we ended up at the North Pole several years ago. North Pole in November. Canadian show biz dream. But that was 15 years ago. Mostly what I've concentrated on is trying to maintain a product standard over the last 9 years touring the country in the soft seaters. I shoot for new material each time I come out. You don't find that under a rock.

GM: You also don't find too many comics who perform for as long on stage as you do. How long are you up there?
RJ: Ninety minutes to two hours. I think a hundred is fine. I had been going two when I first [started these tours] but I find the audience peaks a little bit at two hours. Plus, too, I need a pee. I'm 50, man. But I usually find that about 100 minutes is good. But I don't like to take a break. I had an opener for the first little bit when I started but then I realized that I had enough to drive the 90-minute show myself, so why not?

GM: I saw Mike Bullard last week. He does 35 minutes.
RJ: Where? At a club?

GM: Yeah.
RJ: Well, just because we're all in the same medium we don't all work in the same fashion. Just like music is different all over. There's different genres and styles and everything. I think it's the same with standup. It all boils down to what you want to get out of it. What do you want it to be? It's respect. And the audience that pays to see it deserves some, too. But that doesn't mean that you have to pander. I mean, I think you gotta strike a balance between artistic need and audience expectation. But 35 minutes, eh? Wow. To each his own.

I like to get that roll and pitch. I really like to take the car out on the highway for a spin. And plus, too, I think the audience likes to see a little bit of "best-of" stuff. And you need some time to really let the new stuff breathe, as well. And sometimes it's not quite as tight as it will be over time. It needs to find its legs. The show that I'm doing, you have to know where you're going. I like to take a compass read first before I take a tangent. Then you take a tangent off and you can always come back to your place of origin. But it's always good to know where you're going. I think most comedians have that [centre] You want to make sure what's coming next or what you're opening with or what you're closing with.

"That's why this eight-minute set on Letterman or Leno and all that stuff, Jesus, I'm not interested. If that's what it takes in order to validate me, then I'm fucked. Because it takes me that long to set up a preposition." – Ron James

GM: Oh, I don't like it when a comic takes a tangent and then forgets to come back to his original point. But you always find your way back.
RJ: The full circle. You have to do that. ... To punctuate a narrative with character stuff, too. I've been having a lot of fun with that lately, you know? So if there's any sort of tangential stuff I'll usually milk a beat a little bit like that and allow myself to go out on a thinner limb. The character stuff is fun. [It's not like I] sit down on a chair and do five minutes as a character or anything; it's just to punctuate it. I think you have to have the narratives so the audience knows what you're talking about and within that narrative it's gotta be punctuated consistently with laughs.

GM: Do you have to fight being the curmudgeon who thinks everything was better in his day? Like we all do?
RJ: A little bit. How old are you?

GM: Forty-five.
RJ: Yeah. I'm 50. I think there's a certain nostalgia among Baby Boomers, you know? But I'm trying to be aware of that. I think my 19-year-old daughter is a helluva lot more enlightened than I was at 19. She's not stumbling around a university frat house with an empty bucket of purple Jesus on her head doing hot knives. As far as I know. But I think there's a focus today that may not have existed a long time ago. Then again, Christ, you're 22 and immortal in 1980, what are you gonna do but have fun? But I try not to have that as a mandate of my set. God forbid that that's the theme that people walk away with: "He's just become a cranky old bastard."

I saw Carlin in Las Vegas about six years ago and he was fairly strident and I don't think the audience got the kind of show that they paid the 70 bucks for. But if I talk about stuff... like how I've worked since I was 12 years old. So there's always comparisons between today and yesterday, I guess. Like, I asked my kids to rake up a few leaves in the back yard when I went on tour in November and Christ, there was a pause you could march a Russian army through, you know? I said just rake up a few leaves. My reward for helping dad clean up the back yard when I was a kid was to stay an extra 45 minutes at the Halifax dump shooting rats in the head with my pellet gun.

GM: Fun.
RJ: It was good fun, man! And here I am listening to Sean Penn read Dylan's Chronicles in the truck. These are things everybody did in Wisconsin: went to the dump and shot rats. I thought, "Yeah! Alright." I can't play the guitar to save my life, but Dylan shot rats. But I guess it's the absurdity of it. I'm not trying to advocate rodent killing as a pastime for my girls, but you can't help but look there. It's the intention, right? What are you trying to say with it? What's the point? What's going to resonate for them?

GM: When we were younger and older people would say such things to us, we'd think they're just old. And I'm sure your daughters and my son will say the same thing when they're older about the younger generation.
RJ: Sure. My dad would tell me they used to get up at five o'clock to sell mackarels before he did his paper route. And you know what I used to do? I used to play a violin in front of him. I'd pretend I was playing a violin: "Oh, tell me another one." But I think that's one of the themes of the show, though: the past, the present and the future; where you're from, where you are and where you're going. That's life, though, isn't it, Guy? To put the whole picture into perspective. You have to draw from somewhere.

I think I said it to you earlier, where does the material come from? It's alchemy. You're pulling gold from straw. And all the comedians who step up on stage and deliver it, in order for it to be successful, I think there's got to be some investment of the heart line in there. At least for me that's what worked. And I find that the stuff that really does have shelf life, that really consistently has legs, is stuff that has a personal anecdote that universality of content. Political jokes are gone in six months, aren't they?

GM: Unless they get elected in.
RJ: Yeah. ... You can hang your hat on some archetypical things. I try to, anyway, with politicians. That they're the same guys in different ties. Glad-handing political opportunists with a pathological pursuit of power who as soon as they [get elected] don't give a rat's ass about the people that gave it to them in the first place. And I think it's important for a comedian not to be a member of the country club, too. I'd never want to be in a room filled with people I make fun of for a living. I think you've got to be cautious about that. I think it's our job to always be observers. You always want to be standing on the porch looking in. I don't want to be the guy inside with the alligator on my shirt, for Christ sake. I want to be with the misfaced boy and the bearded lady on the front porch.

GM: You've got to stay real.
RJ: But it's hard, though, isn't it, when we're all carrying this Sisyphean lump of fuck called the bourgeous dream? I mean, all of us are in the same game, aren't we? You want a nice south-facing window in the house or ... you want the media room. Jesus, it's not good enough to have a TV anymore, you've got the fucking media room. You've got all the accoutrements of comfort you could possibly want. [His other phone rings in the background.] I'm enjoying talking to you. The Cowichan Times can fucking relax. They're late phoning me. I'm gonna turn it off, actually.

GM: Turn it off. It's just Cowichan.
RJ: I just did an interview and they said, "What have you heard of Abbotsford?" I said, "Geez, you don't want to know."

GM: Were you Catholic? Or are you?
RJ: No, I was Anglican but I grew up with Catholics.

GM: I was wondering because when you get into one of your long, wordy passages it sounds like a priest singing.
RJ: Isn't that interesting?

GM: You know, they get on that one note.
RJ: (big laugh) They get on that one note! That's funny, man. Well, isn't that interesting. No, High Anglican. I mean, I was as close to Catholic as you could get without having any saints to pray to when I was on the high diving board at the Halifax Centennial Pool. Your Catholics could call up a host of saints, couldn't they? There was any friggin' saint for a bow-legged, luminescent 45-pound red-headed kid scared shitless at the top platform.

But my wife, I tell ya, her mother is Roman Catholic. And I'm not shittin' you, man, I lost my car keys for three friggin' days and she said, "I'll talk to Mom and she'll say a prayer to Saint Anthony." There's a fella who's not sleeping on the job, buddy. They fell on my head when I was sleeping. But they showed up! So I don't like to mess with that spookiness they got going on there.

Look, I came from a Celtic culture, right? I was raised with one television station. I don't want to go into the whole nostalgic thing and stuff, but it was a black and white TV and for the most part I was surrounded by people who would never shut up. They just talked. I mean, it wasn't a fiddle-playing kitchen but people could tell a story. Oh, jeez, they could tell a story. It was holy. And you listened. And you respected it. These things stayed with me.

I really admired Billy Crystal's standup and the way he called up that soul line of all the people he knew from that club his father ran in the '50s. Was it a club or a record store he ran or something, where all the great black musicians came and sang. ... I like Cosby's stuff. But at the same time, early Dennis Miller, too, was a real inspiration. That first album, Black & White, he did was great, before he became a avid member of the Republican party. But I saw Billy Connelly. We drove to Hamilton to see Billy Connelly in Copps Coliseum. The 65-year-old Scottish wizard went for two hours and 25 minutes without a break. And it was absolutely inspired. You know, I saw him on an HBO special when I was in Los Angeles seventeen lifetimes ago. We were down there for three years. And it was an epiphany, man. I saw this cat flying across the stage and I remember watching it going, "Jesus, this is the language of my tribe." He was talking about relatives and times. There was a texture to it, you know, Guy? There was a texture. That's why this eight-minute set on Letterman or Leno and all that stuff, Jesus, I'm not interested. If that's what it takes in order to validate me, then I'm fucked. Because it takes me that long to set up a preposition. ... I like the reverence that words allow the individual to place on time.

GM: When are you going to do a book?
RJ: Well, when I find the time, buddy. I was approached there a couple of years ago by Douglas & McIntyre in Vancouver and I sent them some stuff that I'd written on the north. My kid and I had gone kayaking into the barren lands of the Teelon Game Sanctuary a couple of summers ago. That's where the holy notes singing loud and clear because space is Canada's greatest commodity. When I find the time to sit down and ... [write about] some of the wonders that have passed in front of my windshield or some of the ground I've walked, maybe in the next few years.

GM: You could even adapt your stage material because it's all written.
RJ: Yeah, it reads. That's what people say to me all the time. Thank you. I will get around to doing that. It's just first things first, you know? I wrote a pilot this year and I'm waiting to hear if I get an order.

GM: CBC?
RJ: Yep. They've been good [to me.] The last four specials have been with them. My fifth hopefully will be on Winnipeg. I'll shoot that one next year. They're the only television network in the country that's building it from the ground up, you know? I mean, Robson Arms and Corner Gas are CTV's, both with excellent actors and I'm a big fan of Brent's work, anyway.

GM: They're the same actors.
RJ: (laughs) Yeah, they are! There's a couple of the same actors. That's funny. You know, there's more actors out there.

GM: Exactly. Is the pilot a sitcom or a one-camera thing? What is it?
RJ: You know what, Guy? I just don't want to play my hand yet until the gods smile, buddy. I hope you'll respect that.

GM: I respect that.
RJ: Thank you. I'm just so damned superstitious.

GM: I'm sure there's a saint you could pray to.
RJ: (laughs) I wish there was! Saint of pilots.

GM: How do you relax? You're so busy working all the time. Do you just sit down and veg in front of the TV?
RJ: No, I can't do that. It drives me nuts. I read a lot. And I had been running a lot. I was an avid runner and then [I had a scope of my left knee] and I've been running bone on bone for like ten years. There's no cartilege in them and the miniscus is torn so I'm gonna have to start biking. But I like to get outside. I like to fish. I'm bringing my fly-fishing rod to the interior when I'm out there in May. So hopefully I'll be able to land a speckled or two without being mauled. That's one of the things about fishing in BC, you're always doing 360s.

GM: I wouldn't go out there. Not to bring it back to Irwin again, but he said his advice to young comics would be to read more.
RJ: Read. Read, read, read. It's so true. It's so true. ... It gives it time to sink in, you know? I've just never been one to pull my act from popular culture, I guess. Maybe it wouldn't hurt, but I don't know. I just find that Canadians as a whole are a literate people. They respect the rhythm of the spoken word. I mean, you've got so much more choice. If you're just watching TV shows or just watching movies or fucking around on the internet, you're just going to the same well as everybody else. And you gotta read the right stuff, too.

GM: What's the right stuff?
RJ: I think you should have a smattering of the classics. I think you should read a lot of non-fiction. I just finished the new Thomas Homer Dixon's book The Upside of Down. That was a great read. And I read that fellow from the west coast a year ago, The Disappearing Macaw, which was great. ...

GM: Some people say they read and they just buy the tabloids at the checkout counter.
RJ: I don't want to sound like I'm a snob about it, either, because you put a Stephen King book in the truck when I'm driving it on tour and it's amazing what that fellow can do with character, you know? He's prolific. And I try to read stuff that's... I sort of topped out on the war in Iraq. I was reading a lot of stuff on that. Gee whiz, three books at 400 pages each. You know what, Guy? Apparently it's all about oil.

GM: What?!
RJ: Yeah! (laughs) Oil and power. Go figure, eh?

GM: Well, Ron, I can't hog you all to myself. Others need to talk to you.
RJ: But you get it, right?

GM: I get it.
RJ: Anyone who quotes Irwin Barker as a sage has my respect. I wish I had half his low-key energy on stage.

Podcast episode 196ish: Irwin Barker tribute

This is the first episode of its kind on What's So Funny? and, it is hoped, the last. It's not fun mourning the loss of a friend and comedy icon. But I have to admit I liked putting the show together just because I got to go back over the two times Irwin Barker paid a visit to our little show, cull select segments and arrange them thematically. Barker knew so much about comedy and loved talking about it. Comedy nerds everywhere should love listening to his expertise in this tribute to the man. And we also touched on the disease that would eventually take his life on June 21, 2010, at the age of 58.

June 27: Irwin Barker

The late, great stand-up comic/writer Irwin Barker passed away last Monday and the country is still in mourning. I have no idea why flags are at half-mast around the city the last little while but I choose to believe they're for Irwin.

Barker was a guest twice on our little program, once in 2005 when we were six months in, and again in 2008, when he was one year into his diagnosis of terminal cancer. Tonight on What's So Funny? we're going to play clips from those two interviews with the man as well as some clips of his comedy.

The photo, courtesy of Kevin Statham, shows Irwin second from the right, at a benefit for cancer at the River Rock Show Theatre. From left to right, there's Brent Butt, Mark Critch, Tim Steeves, Tim Rykert, Barker, and Graham Clark.

Irwin Barker, RIP

Do you believe in the subconscious? I think deep down we all do.

The funniest guy in the world named Irwin has passed away.

Irwin Barker succumbed to cancer three years after doctors gave him one year to live back in 2007. It's a sad day for comedy. Irwin was not only one of the best – if not the best – joke writers in the country, he was a class act, as well. We were spoiled in Vancouver for years when he lived here. I can't count the number of times I saw him over the years and it was always a joy – especially if I was bringing someone new to live and local comedy to the show. And as funny as he was on stage, he was as kind and polite off-stage.

He was an enigma, too. Here was a middle-aged stand-up comedian with virtually no charisma, no schtick, no energy... and he destroyed everywhere. I'm not exaggerating here. Obviously an older guy in a suit with some good jokes and a brain is going to do well on the CBC or in theatres. But I used to sit in fear at the back of Urban Well on a night the crowd was particularly drunk, young, trendy, and rambunctious, after they've spit up younger, hipper comics. I'd fear for Irwin, a gentle soul if there ever was one. And there was never a reason to. He'd get up there, hem and haw about feeling like a dad coming down to the rec room and miraculously everyone would sit up and take notice. And he'd get them. Every time.

In one ill-advised booking, the Trailer Park Boys were doing their first show in Vancouver, at the Vogue Theatre as part of the comedy festival. Organizers put them on as hosts bringing out an array of comedians of varying styles. But the people were there to see the Trailer Park Boys and had no patience for anyone else. They were the rowdiest crowd I've ever seen. The great Andy Kindler was literally booed off the stage. I sat through both shows. When it was Irwin's time, I again got that feeling in my stomach. How could he possibly tame this beast of a crowd? But he did. Out of all the ten or 15 comics on the bill (and there were some really good ones), he did by far the best, just doing his thing.

My neighbour had a coming-out-of-the-closet party. It was fun. It was just the two of us, though, which was awkward.

Once a friend's younger brother, who was a bit of a partyer and boozer, e-mailed me after he and some buddies went to Yuk Yuk's one night. This kid didn't routinely go out to live comedy, but he knew I did so made a point of writing me. He wrote, "I saw some guy named Irwin last night. Funniest guy I've ever seen in my life." It was then that I realized that the strength of Irwin's material, and his dry delivery and lack of pretense, was enough to win over any crowd, anywhere.

I got into a big argument with a friend of mine over the meaning of semantics.

Irwin was a guest on What's So Funny? twice, the first time in 2005 and the second after he had been diagnosed with leiomyosarcoma. Both chats were low-key but illuminating. He had such insight and knowledge of comedy and the process. I found it fascinating to learn how he writes. He could do seven minutes on raisins and it was killer. He said he just researched a topic – any topic – and started writing an essay. A non-funny high school-type essay. Then, when he was done, he'd go back, punch it up and edit it down. Maybe that's too labour intensive for some, but the proof is in his act. This Sunday (June 27th) on the show, we will play clips from his two appearances on the show and we'll hear some of Irwin's act, as well.

My aunt is a perfect combination of fatalist and optimist. She fell down and broke her leg, and just laid there going, "Am I ever glad that's over with."

Irwin also taught me, indirectly, that there's no such thing as a hack premise – only hack jokes or comics. He could take the hackiest premise, such as airport security or pilots or Costco, and bring a fresh and original take to them. And hilarious. That always helps.

A couple months after his diagnosis, Irwin returned to Vancouver to perform at Balthazar's. He was as bald as a cueball from chemo so needless to say his health was the proverbial elephant in the room. He diffused the tension with some barbs at his condition. "One year. That's what the doctor says. He says I have twelve months," he started as we sat there not knowing how to react. "But my lawyer thinks he can get it down to eight months." But he quickly got down to his regular act. And again, he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. As things were rolling along near the end of his set, he finally feigned some bitterness over his condition: "Why couldn't this have happened to a hack? They're going to take my jokes as soon as I'm gone, I know it."

My cousin has a serious gambling problem so much so that his wife left him. He called me up and he’s trying to win her back.

They better not. I think it was because of his medical best-before date that he decided to go out swinging. He kept his job as a staff writer for the CBC (who mercifully transferred him from This Hour Has 22 Minutes, which taped in Halifax, to The Rick Mercer Report, which taped in Toronto, so he could get the treatment he needed) and continued doing standup. When he played Yuk Yuk's in 2008, as tired as he was, he made no mention of his illness. He said he didn't want to make it awkward for people who just came to the club for a laugh. I surreptitiously recorded his set on my iPod just for my own enjoyment, knowing he wouldn't be around forever. It was soon after that he recorded and released a DVD so the world now has a record of his brilliance. And no hacks can steal his words.

David Cross

I told you there'd be additions and subtractions to the comedy festival. Turns out the two Matts (Besser and Walsh) won't be able to make it afterall, which is a shame because they're great. And old friend David Cross will be making a return visit.

David Cross and I go way back. I've never interviewed him either over the phone or in person. And I've never met him (except once even before I was writing about comedy regularly I saw him at a Nashville Pussy show at Richard's on Richards and said hi). But I've been a fan ever since I saw him at Bumbershoot years and years ago. I think Patton Oswalt, Laura Kightlinger and Tenacious D were also on the bill. Can't remember who else.

So I've been a big fan. Then two years ago I had to do a festival round-up for the Straight. I took in tons of shows but I didn't have tons of space to go into much depth. But I gave a less-than-stellar review to Cross's stand-up. I wrote:

Probably the most famous name at the fest was David Cross, who gained mass appeal with his role as Tobias on Arrested Development, but his was a mixed bag. Doing standup, he's just an angry know-it-all who appears to hate his time on-stage almost as much as he hates his fans. Appearing last in the almost-three-hour Comedy Death Ray show, Cross insulted First Nations people and drug addicts before going on a seemingly endless–and humourless–rant about Mormonism, hemming and hawing his way through an ill-prepared set. But what a pleasure it was to watch him the next night in Match Game, where he smiled, laughed, and enjoyed himself, and in the SKETCH Show on September 22, also at the Cultch, where he was reunited with former Mr. Show partner Bob Odenkirk.

The thing about reviewing is you can only review the show you've seen, not the body of work. Re-reading my review above, I see that I shouldn't have used the present tense, because I don't think he's always an angry know-it-all. But I definitely thought he was for the two shows I saw him that year. That was my impression, at least, and I spoke to other comedy nerds who loved the guy but didn't at all like his festival sets. And, to be fair, I also spoke to others who did like his stand-up there. But I can only give my opinion when I review. I just try not to give cheap shots, say my piece, and move on. I also mentioned how much I enjoyed him during the Match Game and in his sketch show.

Well, Dave read my review and commented on it in his blog. Fair enough. Critics have to be able to take it just like they dish it out. I have no problem with that. To rebut my criticism, he wrote:

Hmmm, well, I don’t hate my fans, nor do I hate doing stand-up. I’m sorry if I gave (or give) that impression, but as I said, I genuinely like doing it. That’s why I flew to Vancouver for the shows. And I actually like it when people like my act. Not too surprising really. I certainly don’t do it for the money. 7 shows for a thousand bucks total is not very lucrative. I made more money middling at “The Laugher’s Den” in Made-Up-Town, New Hampshire. It’s true though; I did insult drug-users, specifically heroin addicts. So, sorry junkies. Also I did insult a “First Nationer”, or “drunk Indian” as I called her. It was after she stood up in her chair, and yelled out that she didn’t have a TV to a rhetorical question I asked. Then, I guessed that she was a drunk Indian, which it turns out was correct. She wasn’t insulted (at least not then – she waited for me after the show to drunkenly apologize in a drunk Indian way). I then talked about drunk Indians for a minute. I am not angry about drunk Indians at all by the way, I find them adorable.

That was his take and it's good he clarified that he does, indeed, like doing stand-up (or at least doesn't hate it) and likes (or at least doesn't hate) his fans, and he's sorry if he gave that impression. Good to know. Seriously. Who knows, he could have been having a shitty week or whatever. Hopefully if I get to review him this year, I'll be able to give him a better review. Because, as I said, I really do like him.

As for his recollection of the drunk Indian bit, I think his memory is selective. He did the same bit twice. There were two different shows. One at the Comedians of Comedy at the Cultch and the second one at the show where someone yelled out at the Commodore. So he wasn't just reacting to someone in the crowd.

Anyway, here's what I didn't like about his rebuttal:

Here, from the same article is an example of the kind of humor Guy enjoys:

"Former locals Irwin Barker and Darryl Lenox got me all nostalgic about the good old days when we could see these two pros just about any day of the week. Lenox talked about his girlfriend's hippie parents, who served him porridge for breakfast: "I didn't even know that shit was real." And Barker, who's suffering from cancer, is still writing gems: "I bought the book France for Dummies because I've always wanted to see Buckingham Palace."

Well, there you go.

I didn't like it for a couple of reasons. No doubt he's never seen Irwin Barker or Darryl Lenox, who are great comics and well-respected by their peers, so he doesn't need to slag them by way of me. Now, I know he didn't overtly slag them; he just said I enjoy that kind of humour and his is different and he didn't offer any opinion. But we can all read between the lines. He probably just thought they were lame examples of jokes I gave but he should know jokes don't always translate well to the page. Sure, I could have done a better job summing them up in one sentence each, but... uh... deadlines. That's my excuse.

But the other reason I didn't like it is because he's doing some nifty editing. In that same review, I led by saying Paul F. Tompkins (who Cross certainly does know and like) was the highlight of the festival for me, and that Jimmy Pardo (another Cross crony) was another highlight. So they were also examples of the kind of humour I enjoy. And I even mentioned enjoying Cross as Cross in Match Game and as characters in sketch. So to slough me off as a guy who just doesn't get his style of stand-up isn't really accurate.

Still with Cross, I was reading an interview with one of my favourites, Doug Stanhope, the other day. It seems Stanhope might have the same impression of Cross that I had back in 2007:

With Bill Maher, I agree with the majority of things he says, and I hate him. He just comes across as so cunty, and smarmy, that curled up sarcasm … and too many guys on that side of the fence do that. That David Cross kind of delivery of, “I’m smarter than you,” not “We’re smarter than them.”

I agree with that notion completely and have been saying it for years, that just because I agree with a comic politically or socially doesn't make me like their comedy. As I said, I do like David Cross, although I get what Doug's saying here. But I feel exactly that way about Bill Maher. Yes, I agree with almost all he says, but I don't find him funny. I used to, back when he was a young comic on The Tonight Show.

It's funny because for ever I've been saying that Doug Stanhope is a guy I disagree with 90 percent of the time, yet find him hilarious.

Tomorrow's show; More podcasts!

Summertime and the livin' is easy. Who has time to blog when the fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high? Not I, it seems. Sorry about that. But I've been thinking about you. Honest.

We took a station-mandated time-out last week. No fault of ours. There was other more important programming that needed airing, is all. And this week, as I mentioned, I'm out of town. In fact, I'm lying in a hotel room in Seattle as I write this. But I
talked it over with my manservant, Kevin, and we decided that the show must go on. In a sense. We won't have a live guest this week. Instead, Kevin will play comedy deejay and spin you some funny trax. Knowing Kevin, I can almost guarantee that means you'll be hearing some Flight of the Conchords and Daniel Tosh. But who knows, he might surprise me.

Meanwhile, if you're jonesin' for some interviews, seven more just joined the podcast family. As always, they're available at the Comedy Couch, on iTunes, or a friendly neighbourhood podcast server near you. Or you could just click on the episode below and let the magic of the intertube take you away.

Colleen Brow, from June 1, 2008:


Irwin Barker, from August 3, 2008:


Derek Edwards, from April 19, 2009:


Urban Improv, from April 26, 2009:


Leland Klassen, from May 17, 2009:


Eric Fell & Shaun Stewart, from May 24, 2009:


Nathan Clark, from May 31, 2009:

Irwin update

Half the fun of this blog is watching my Site Meter to see how people arrive here. Here are some recent Google searches that directed unsuspecting readers our way:

• "funny job interview mistakes blogspot" (from Manila)
• "johnny carson luckiest person in the world love" (from an unknown American city)
• "brent butt not funny" (from some lost soul in Toronto)
• "jon dore homosexual" (from Brampton)

But one of the most common searches is for Irwin Barker, the former local comic who's been battling terminal cancer for a couple of years now. Someone from Winnipeg Googled "how is irwin barker" yesterday. When I corresponded with him last month, he said he was still hanging in there. Well, today I got a press release from the River Rock, which can only be good news for Barker fans. In an effort to pander to more potential readers, here it is:

RIVER ROCK CASINO RESORT

PRESENTS

IRWIN BARKER & FRIENDS:

FIGHTING CANCER WITH COMEDY

SATURDAY, JUNE 13

Richmond, BC – For the second year, River Rock Casino Resort will be presenting “Irwin Barker & Friends: Fighting Cancer With Comedy” … a hilarious evening of stand-up with all proceeds going to the Richmond Hospital Foundation. Irwin Barker is a Gemini nominated comedy writer and performer who is well known in the Vancouver comedy scene. He is currently a staff writer on CBC’s award-winning Rick Mercer Report. Prior to that, he spent several years as a writer for CBC’s This Hour Has 22 Minutes.

In June 2007, Irwin was diagnosed with leiomyosarcoma, a rare type of terminal cancer. Since then, he has been actively involved as an inspirational speaker on how he has used humour as a vital coping mechanism in his personal fight against cancer. He has been a headline performer at numerous cancer fundraisers as well as a keynote speaker for conferences dealing with cancer and palliative care. His first year of cancer treatment was the subject of a nationally televised CTV documentary, That’s My Time. The documentary debuted at the Halifax Film Festival in September 2008 where it was selected as Best Canadian Film. The reaction to Irwin’s presentations on comedy and cancer has been overwhelmingly positive seeing it as a “perfect combination of humour and reflection.” In Irwin’s own words, “Cancer has my body but not my spirit and I’ll continue to make jokes ... not so much about cancer but in spite of it.”

Proceeds from the event will go towards the Richmond Hospital Foundation’s $4 million MRI Campaign. “We are so close, over 90% raised,” says Lisa Westermark, Executive Director. “We just need a little more to reach our goal and provide MRI service in Richmond Hospital. Together we can reduce wait times, improve access and allow for consultation between radiologists and specialists. In short, we can transform care for our community.” The show will also feature comedians from across Canada including local comic Graham Clark who can currently be seen on Citytv’s The CityNews List, triple Gemini winner Tim Steeves and Toronto's own Tim Rykert who recently toured throughout North America as the opening act for Michael Bublé along with a few surprise guests.

TICKETS ON SALE THURSDAY, APRIL 16 @ 10:00 AM

DOORS: 7:00 PM SHOW: 8:00 PM

Tickets: $24.50 (+ Service Charge & Facility Fee) – Cabaret Seating

Tickets available at all Ticketmaster Outlets or charge-by-phone (604) 280-4444

or order on-line at www.ticketmaster.ca

Ages 19 years and over

March 15: Irwin Barker

Okay, it's not a new one, but it's a good one. Tonight's show originally ran last February, but it's never been up on podcast so if you missed it then, now's your chance. I sat down with Irwin Barker in an empty Yuk Yuk's club on a Saturday afternoon and chatted for an hour. We talked about Irwin's terminal diagnosis, the writing process and his advice to young comics. We didn't talk about the award-winning documentary on his cancer odyssey, That's My Time, nor his comedy dvd Do the Math because they weren't out yet. But it's still a fascinating discussion. And just the other day Irwin told me that there will be another star-studded cancer benefit at the River Rock Show Theatre on June 13. Along with raising money, the show will celebrate the 2-year anniversary of him being given one year to live by the doctors. Stoopid doctors.

Meanwhile, I'm going to go buy Do the Math because Irwin is one funny dude. He's the only guy I know who appeals to every demographic. Once a friend's younger brother – a hard-drinking partier – wrote me saying, "I just saw this comic at Yuk Yuk's. His name was Irwin something or other. Funniest guy I've ever seen in my life."

Amen to that.

So tune in. All the info on how to listen is right over there ––> somewhere.

Robin Williams concert

I saw Robin Williams' Weapons of Self Destruction tour at the Queen E. on Monday night (see my review in the Georgia Straight here). I had seen Williams a couple other times at the late lamented Urban Well in Kitsilano over the years. Now, I'm the first to admit that I'm not a big laugher so I don't know that it's a huge knock on the guy to say I never laughed once any time I've seen him. I sit in awe at his energy but I don't laugh. Don't get me wrong, I don't sit there hating him, either. It's more of a neutral-bordering-on-negative opinion I have, as opposed to an active dislike.

There's only so much one can write in a 400-word review, so let me expand a bit. I've long been on the record that there is no such thing as a hack premise; only hack jokes. If you can offer a new twist on an already tired subject, I'm all for it. I came to this conclusion after years of watching Irwin Barker, who does hilarious bits on Costco and airline travel. The bottom line is funny.

The problems I have with Williams' bits are that the premises are, for the most part, the jokes. We're supposed to laugh at his take, but we've heard the take countless times before. (I should point out here that the sold-out crowd absolutely loved the guy, so what do I know?) Sometimes I could place who said the same thing before him, other times I couldn't. Maybe some of you will be able to tell me.

* Canada is like a loft apartment over a biker bar. This may very well be original, but the format isn't. Canada is like a [something benign or good] over a [something crazy] I've heard lots of times. I think the joke is in the form rather than the specifics. Is it legit to just replace the words? It doesn't seem so to me but maybe some of you have differing opinions you'd like to share with the class.

* Snow would be nice. This refers to Vancouver getting the Winter Olympics. Irwin Barker did this joke (only much better) back when we first got the bid. Others have done it since. Irwin actually had jokes (and lots of 'em) to go with this premise. Williams made the premise the joke: "Snow would be nice."

* "Muthafucka, yeah!" This is how he would love to see president-elect Barack Obama at his inauguration. Again, the idea of the "real" Obama coming out of the closet once elected in the form of a ghetto rapper has been done to death.

* "...left turn and then another left turn..." Here he recontextualized an old joke about the simplicity of Nascar, but the point is it's not his joke. And I guess that's fine, to a point. But the joke hits like it's supposed to be something we hadn't thought of before. Now, maybe lots of people there hadn't heard it before, but there's something not right about the whole thing.

* "We still haven't found Osama... a 6-foot-7 Arab on dialysis." Again, who hasn't heard this dozens of times already? One defence of joke theft is parallel thought. It's a legitimate defence, too. But when something is out there all over the place, that defence gets thrown out. Yes, bin Laden is a distinctive looking fellow and the U.S. hasn't found him. He might very well have put those two facts together on his own, but once the joke becomes so prevalent, you gotta just let it go.

* Who will build the wall? This joke (about Schwarzeneggar wanting to build a wall to keep out the Mexicans) has been the subject of other theft charges. Joe Rogan went after Carlos Mencia, claiming his buddy Ari Shaffir did the original line. But the joke was out there even before that and just about everyone's done it. I saw Alonzo Bodden do the joke at Yuk Yuk's not too long ago. So I guess if everyone else is doing it, Williams should be allowed. And maybe he should. But he should know better. That's the thing.

* Starbucks next to a Starbucks. Funny thing about this one, we've heard it hundreds of times about Vancouver. But Williams, despite knowing the city well, was talking about Seattle. Again, it's premise as joke. We've all observed, here and in Seattle, the unique phenomenon of two Starbucks franchises close to each other. So what else do you got for us? Is that it?

* Sped-up Babe Ruth. This was an odd one because his old buddy Billy Crystal did this bit for years. Granted, the ideas were different. Crystal used it to show how funny it looked watching the old baseball players on newsreels. Williams used it to show that Ruth was actually buzzed on Coke (big and little c). But still, it's the pantomime that gets the laugh and Crystal is the guy who picked up on that. Williams shouldn't get a free ride.

* "Sex with an alcoholic is like playing pool with a rope." Nuff said.

* Nazi pope with a gay wardrobe who opposes gay marriage. It's so easy and not the least bit original. But if he had some killer jokes in that now-old premise, I'd say go for it. He didn't.

* On their first design, pubes were straight but females kept going, "My eyes!" Again, nuff said.

* Why aren't there more funny Germans? Because they killed them all. Now, this one just sounds familiar. For all I know, I heard him say it. Can anyone help me out here? I want to be fair.

* Chinese script on a tattoo that turns out to mean nothing more than 'ass monkey'. Everyone's doing this joke now and I can see how everyone came to it. Whitey gets a foreign language tattoo. Easy-peasy. But you gotta be aware of what's out there. We've heard it. Stop it.

* The human male has a penis and a brain and only enough blood to run one at a time. This one was even emblazoned on a shirt at the merch table. Surely Williams didn't write this, did he? It seems unlikely.

And then there were the mouldy-oldie topics: Chretien, Olympic Stadium falling apart, Margaret Trudeau, Michael Jackson, Bill Clinton-Monica Lewinsky, Camilla Parker as a horse, cats/dogs, anal leakage, Viagra, porn acting...

I know I'm repeating myself, but I just want to drive the point home. While I have no idea if he steals jokes, it's lazy comedy. Surprising coming from a guy who works so hard. The thing is, he famously talks fast. He does have some good lines and maybe if he just slowed down and eliminated the borrowed jokes, he could accentuate the good, original material.

And while, like I said, I didn't laugh once, there were still a few lines and bits I thought were okay:

On Harper: "How did you find a guy to make Bush look good? He is so bland!" On reflection, not a joke at all. Maybe I just liked it because I agreed with it and it showed he's on top of Canadian politics, at least on the surface.

On Bush: "The reign of error has ended." Is that his? See, when you do so many jokes that aren't original, I can't totally get behind you when you say something halfway decent.

On Bush: "He comes from a family where the smart brother is named Jeb."

On Bush at summit meetings when no other world leader but Blair would stand by him: "It was like the U.N. version of Rainman." Then he launched into Bush as played by Dustin Hoffman. Not an original impression but seemed fitting.

On Palin: "Did Ronald Reagan and Vanna White have a kid?" He followed it up by talking about how they handed "the baby around like a joint". Nice image.

On his bad film choices: When his GPS tells him to take a right on the Golden Gate Bridge, he tells it, "I'm not that depressed." It responds, "Really, Robin? I saw Bicentennial Man."

On his alcoholism: "A functioning alcoholic is like a paraplegic lap dancer. You can do it, just not as well as the others."

He also did an inspired long bit about designing humans by committee. I thought for sure it would be his closer, but it wasn't. And maybe my favourite bit was in the encore when he trotted out some ancient impressions but had them doing porn: John Wayne, Gregory Peck and Jimmy Stewart. Of course he had to ruin it by finishing with Christopher Walken, but whatcha gonna do?