This browser is supported only in Windows 10 and above.


Neal Brennan talks about his influences, writing race-sensitive material and the state of contemporary comedy

Neal Brennan talks about his influences, writing race-sensitive material and the state of contemporary comedy (photo)

Posted by on

Comedians are literally paid to say provocative things, but typically even their most shocking material has been massaged down for maximum digestibility. But after two and a half seasons working on one of the most incisive and incendiary comedy shows in the last decade, “The Chappelle Show,” Neal Brennan is bold even by normal standards of button-pushing. Even when he was offering his email address, whose slightly older portal I observed that we share, his response was, “yeah, fuck everybody!” Of course, that was at the end of a long interview in which he’d already offered quite a few observations and opinions some readers – much less colleagues – might find objectionable.

In this epic conversation with IFC, Brennan held nothing back as he discussed his comedic upbringing, his background as a writer and performer of race-sensitive (and let’s face it, sometimes insensitive) material, the state of contemporary comedy, and how it relates to our history and our culture as a whole.

How did you get into comedy? You mentioned your brother was in comedy – were you already a funny kid and got into it because of him?

Yeah, I think I was a funny kid, and then once I saw that he started doing it, I realized, oh, this could be a profession – and that just made it seem that much more real to me. And Bill Murray and his brothers, I caddied where they caddied, so it all seemed sort of realistic, like you do a thing, and then you could make a movie about the place that you worked? That was outside of Chicago in a town called Wilmette; I wasn’t there when they were there, the Murrays. But also, his sister, Bill’s sister taught my sister, so it all just seemed like, oh, alright! It wasn’t like, “who are those people on TV?” I mean, it was that as well, but it wasn’t completely beyond the realm of possibility.

Was there anybody you based the structure of the style of your early material on? Be it in terms of organizing or constructing jokes, or just sort of being influenced in general.

I think the biggest influence on my stand-up would be Chris Rock, in that I love that Chris is basically an essayist, in that he’ll take a subject and just try and attack it from as many different angles as he can. And Chris will take a subject before he even has a joke about it; he’ll say, “I want to talk about prison,” or whatever he wants to talk about, and then he’ll just go from there. Whereas with most people, you kind of run into a joke, and then you go – including me, like I’ll think of something funny – and then I’ll want to build something around it for the sake of having time, like I don’t just want to do one-liners. Like I had a one-liner about being raised Catholic for like a year and a half, and I just never had anything to go with it, so I never did it, and then a week ago I came up with something to go with it.

The thing I like about Chris is that he is an essayist and also a social critic; there aren’t that many guys doing that at this point. There’s basically Chris, Doug Stanhope, and a little bit Bill Burr, but for the most part it’s personal or observational in terms of comedy. And I’m like the biggest Bill Hicks fan; I met Bill Hicks, I saw him once – actually I think me and Dave Chappelle met him together in ’92 or ’93, and Chappelle said he had never seen me that nervous before (laughs).

I like sort of activist comedy, I like sort of making a point, not because I’m being too heavy-handed about it, but because – and George Carlin is obviously the same thing – nothing contrarian for the sake of being contrarian, but being contrarian because to base your life and your worldview on the assumption that this is all working fine, I think is silly and naïve. And it’s also not working fine. And Mort Sahl was a huge influence. I had always heard that, “Oh, Mort Sahl is the guy who reads the paper on stage,” and then in 1989, Bob Weide, the guy who directs “Curb Your Enthusiasm” a lot, made an “American Masters” for PBS about Mort Sahl, and it’s just great. It’s just a great documentary, and I watched it four or five times.

Mort Sahl was kind of the Jon Stewart of his day – like he was on the cover of Time Magazine in 1960, and he was writing jokes for JFK’s campaign, for JFK to do on the road, and stump speeches. And he told JFK, “Yo man, if you win, just know I’m going to keep making fun of you,” and JFK was like, “Of course.” And then JFK wins, Mort keeps making fun of him in his act, and Joe Kennedy goes, “Who’s this Mort Sahl who’s making fun of you?” And JFK was like, “He wrote for the campaign.” So Joe Kennedy was like, “No, I’m going to take care of this guy for you,” [and he] shuts down “The Hungry Eye,” where Mort Sahl basically worked. Then JFK gets assassinated, and so Jim Garrison, the guy who was [the subject] of the movie “JFK,” he starts doing an investigation, and Mort Sahl basically goes down there and volunteers to help him with the investigation on his own dime. And I’m not saying everybody’s got to be Dick Gregory, or everybody has to be Mort Sahl, but those are the guys I admire, you know? There’s an element of, I don’t know if it was because I was raised Catholic and all of that shit, but I’m a bit of a lefty, and I just believe in

I got into an argument with a woman not long ago at Occupy LA. I went down and did stand-up down there, probably like the first week; I regret not protesting more, like in my life. I wish I’d protested the World Trade Organization and Iraq and NAFTA, but anyway I went down there and I got into an argument with this woman who I’m pretty sure was a lesbian, and I made a joke about these rallies will be more popular with people if women will start sleeping with the guys that are down there. Because no one ever says that, but that was one of the key components of the ’60s, that there was some action. So she came up to me afterward and was like, “You know, you’re being really hetero-normative in that kind of thinking, and I don’t know if you really understand about comedy and activism and social change.” And I was like, “As a matter of fact, I worked on this show…” and it was like she stepped into a bear trap. And then as soon as I told her my credits, she wanted to end the argument.

I’m sort of all for putting some vitamins in the shit. I’m of the Mark Twain, Will Rogers, Mort Sahl, Chris, Bill Hicks, Doug Stanhope ethos – and again, it’s not like I’m super popular or anything, I’d like to think I will be, the more people get to know my stand-up, but that’s kind of where I’m coming from.

And Bill Maher, too – I think Bill Maher is great. And Jon Stewart and Colbert and Seth on “Update,” and I was able to write with Seth for the White House thing, which was awesome. My favorite part of that was like, oh, I get to tell the president what I think – and I know he’s going to hear it! And he did. And then I got to meet him before the thing, and that was awesome as well – that was like sort of incredible, as a matter of fact. But the fun is speaking truth to power, because sometimes I think me and Seth are the only guys under 40 who give a shit about politics, in comedy at least. Because I think most people are like, “Wait – what? No, I’m blogging, and I’m doing an interview.”

I think people are more interested in branding in a lot of ways, which is great – actually, no it’s not. I’m ambivalent. I think there’s a higher premium on access in the world, period; I remember a buddy of mine, Michael Schur, who created “Parks and Rec,” he and I used to write together, and his roommate like ten or 12 years ago was in George Bush’s press pool. And I didn’t even know there was such a thing, and the minute he told me I was like, “Oh! You want him to win! Whatever your political persuasion, you want him to win, because if he wins, you know the president – which is good professionally, and it flatters your ego.” And this guy’s like a good dude – he’s not a scumbag, the guy I’m talking about – and then you see stuff like Helen Thomas, she asks the tough questions and gets bumped to the back. So what you end up with is just people who want to be in the club, instead of actual journalists.

I feel like the only guy who’s doing real journalism who doesn’t give a shit about being in the White House is [Matt] Taibbi. Taibbi is the only guy actually doing good journalism, because I think he’s enough of a misanthrope that I think he just doesn’t give a shit. So I guess it’s like, the thing I always say about Dave was, when he went to Africa, “Well, yeah – but you always got the sense that this guy could go to Africa.” Like as crazy and awful as it was, it’s like, yeah, that’s part of his appeal. So there’s guys like that, like [Doug] Stanhope is such a fucking dirtbag. I describe Stanhope as if you marry a chick, Stanhope is your worst nightmare as a stepson, because he’s just such a fucking smart – he’s so fucking smart! And he’s such an iconoclast, a dyed-in-the-wool misanthrope. But I don’t know if more guys are going to come to it, because I don’t feel anachronistic in terms of, like I’m from the ’80s, jack! I’ve been around comedy since the ’80s, so Hicks isn’t like an “idea” to me, like I met the guy. Mort Sahl, me and Dave pursued and asked him to be in a sketch, and he didn’t want to be in it because he didn’t like it – and he was right, because we ended up cutting it.

But these guys are not just lighthouses, they’re actual people who made the decision, and Chris did the same thing, Dave, he cares about politics too, not in a specific sense, but he definitely is like a humanist, and these guys aren’t unattainable, they’re guys I eat with. And Jon Stewart I fucking knew before he was on MTV, like I’ve known Jon for 20 years, and he was always nice to me.

Continue to next page >>



Reminders that the ’90s were a thing

"The Place We Live" is available for a Jessie Spano-level binge on Comedy Crib.

Posted by on
GIFs via Giphy

Unless you stopped paying attention to the world at large in 1989, you are of course aware that the ’90s are having their pop cultural second coming. Nobody is more acutely aware of this than Dara Katz and Betsy Kenney, two comedians who met doing improv comedy and have just made their Comedy Crib debut with the hilarious ’90s TV throwback series, The Place We Live.

IFC: How would you describe “The Place We Live” to a fancy network executive you just met in an elevator?

Dara: It’s everything you loved–or loved to hate—from Melrose Place and 90210 but condensed to five minutes, funny (on purpose) and totally absurd.

IFC: How would you describe “The Place We Live” to a drunk friend of a friend you met in a bar?

Betsy: “Hey Todd, why don’t you have a sip of water. Also, I think you’ll love The Place We Live because everyone has issues…just like you, Todd.”


IFC: When you were living through the ’90s, did you think it was television’s golden age or the pop culture apocalypse?

Betsy: I wasn’t sure I knew what it was, I just knew I loved it!

Dara: Same. Was just happy that my parents let me watch. But looking back, the ’90s honored The Teen. And for that, it’s the golden age of pop culture. 

IFC: Which ’90s shows did you mine for the series, and why?

Betsy: Melrose and 90210 for the most part. If you watch an episode of either of those shows you’ll see they’re a comedic gold mine. In one single episode, they cover serious crimes, drug problems, sex and working in a law firm and/or gallery, all while being young, hot and skinny.

Dara: And almost any series we were watching in the ’90s, Full House, Saved By the Bell, My So Called Life has very similar themes, archetypes and really stupid-intense drama. We took from a lot of places. 


IFC: How would you describe each of the show’s characters in terms of their ’90s TV stereotype?

Dara: Autumn (Sunita Mani) is the femme fatale. Robin (Dara Katz) is the book worm (because she wears glasses). Candace (Betsy Kenney) is Corey’s twin and gives great advice and has really great hair. Corey (Casey Jost) is the boy next door/popular guy. Candace and Corey’s parents decided to live in a car so the gang can live in their house. 
Lee (Jonathan Braylock) is the jock.

IFC: Why do you think the world is ready for this series?

Dara: Because everyone’s feeling major ’90s nostalgia right now, and this is that, on steroids while also being a totally new, silly thing.

Delight in the whole season of The Place We Live right now on IFC’s Comedy Crib. It’ll take you back in all the right ways.


New Nasty

Whips, Chains and Hand Sanitizer

Turn On The Full Season Of Neurotica At IFC's Comedy Crib

Posted by on

Jenny Jaffe has a lot going on: She’s writing for Disney’s upcoming Big Hero 6: The Series, developing comedy projects with pals at Devastator Press, and she’s straddling the line between S&M and OCD as the creator and star of the sexyish new series Neurotica, which has just made its debut on IFC’s Comedy Crib. Jenny gave us some extremely intimate insight into what makes Neurotica (safely) sizzle…


IFC: How would you describe Neurotica to a fancy network executive you met in an elevator?

Jenny: Neurotica is about a plucky Dominatrix with OCD trying to save her small-town dungeon.

IFC: How would you describe Neurotica to a drunk friend of a friend you met in a bar?

Jenny: Neurotica is about a plucky Dominatrix with OCD trying to save her small-town dungeon. You’re great. We should get coffee sometime. I’m not just saying that. I know other people just say that sometimes but I really feel like we’re going to be friends, you know? Here, what’s your number, I’ll call you so you can have my number!

IFC: What’s your comedy origin story?

Jenny: Since I was a kid I’ve dealt with severe OCD and anxiety. Comedy has always been one of the ways I’ve dealt with that. I honestly just want to help make people feel happy for a few minutes at a time.

IFC: What was the genesis of Neurotica?

Jenny: I’m pretty sure it was a title-first situation. I was coming up with ideas to pitch to a production company a million years ago (this isn’t hyperbole; I am VERY old) and just wrote down “Neurotica”; then it just sort of appeared fully formed. “Neurotica? Oh it’s an over-the-top romantic comedy about a Dominatrix with OCD, of course.” And that just happened to hit the buttons of everything I’m fascinated by.


IFC: How would you describe Ivy?

Jenny: Ivy is everything I love in a comedy character – she’s tenacious, she’s confident, she’s sweet, she’s a big wonderful weirdo.

IFC: How would Ivy’s clientele describe her?

Jenny:  Open-minded, caring, excellent aim.

IFC: Why don’t more small towns have local dungeons?

Jenny: How do you know they don’t?

IFC: What are the pros and cons of joining a chain mega dungeon?

Jenny: You can use any of their locations but you’ll always forget you have a membership and in a year you’ll be like “jeez why won’t they let me just cancel?”

IFC: Mouths are gross! Why is that?

Jenny: If you had never seen a mouth before and I was like “it’s a wet flesh cave with sharp parts that lives in your face”, it would sound like Cronenberg-ian body horror. All body parts are horrifying. I’m kind of rooting for the singularity, I’d feel way better if I was just a consciousness in a cloud.

See the whole season of Neurotica right now on IFC’s Comedy Crib.


The ’90s Are Back

The '90s live again during IFC's weekend marathon.

Posted by on
Photo Credit: Everett Digital, Columbia Pictures

We know what you’re thinking: “Why on Earth would anyone want to reanimate the decade that gave us Haddaway, Los Del Rio, and Smash Mouth, not to mention Crystal Pepsi?”


Thoughts like those are normal. After all, we tend to remember lasting psychological trauma more vividly than fleeting joy. But if you dig deep, you’ll rediscover that the ’90s gave us so much to fondly revisit. Consider the four pillars of true ’90s culture.

Boy Bands

We all pretended to hate them, but watch us come alive at a karaoke bar when “I Want It That Way” comes on. Arguably more influential than Brit Pop and Grunge put together, because hello – Justin Timberlake. He’s a legitimate cultural gem.

Man-Child Movies

Adam Sandler is just behind The Simpsons in terms of his influence on humor. Somehow his man-child schtick didn’t get old until the aughts, and his success in that arena ushered in a wave of other man-child movies from fellow ’90s comedians. RIP Chris Farley (and WTF Rob Schneider).



Teen Angst

In horror, dramas, comedies, and everything in between: Troubled teens! Getting into trouble! Who couldn’t relate to their First World problems, plaid flannels, and lose grasp of the internet?

Mainstream Nihilism

From the Coen Bros to Fincher to Tarantino, filmmakers on the verge of explosive popularity seemed interested in one thing: mind f*cking their audiences by putting characters in situations (and plot lines) beyond anyone’s control.

Feeling better about that walk down memory lane? Good. Enjoy the revival.


And revisit some important ’90s classics all this weekend during IFC’s ’90s Marathon. Check out the full schedule here.