This week, we’re highlighting 24 talented writers and performers for Vulture’s annual list “The Comedians You Should and Will Know.” Our goal is to introduce a wider audience to the talent that has the comedy community and industry buzzing. (You can read more about our methodology at the link above.) We asked the comedians on the list to answer a series of questions about their work, performing, goals for the future, and more. Next up is Brennan Lee Mulligan.
Tell us a story from your childhood that you think might explain why you ended up becoming a comedian.
When I was I think 2 or 3 years old, my mom was out of town for work and got a panicked phone call from my dad because I’d been pretending to be the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz for over four days.
If you were immortalized as a cartoon character, what would your outfit be?
Suit jacket, sharp tie, wing tips, garter socks, no pants, ass out.
What’s your proudest moment/achievement of your comedy career so far?
Standing in Times Square with my dad, himself a comedian, looking at the billboard for Dimension 20’s sold-out show in Madison Square Garden, fully dissociating in front of M&M’s World.
Which comedian’s career trajectory would you most like to follow?
Damn! I think it’s already too late for me to follow anybody, unless Tina Fey had a multiyear career as a prominent internet dungeon master?
Tell us everything about your worst show ever. (This can involve venue, audience, other acts on the lineup, anything!)
Worst show ever was a bar show in Williamsburg where the audience’s chairs were physically removed mid-show to make room for a bridal party that crashed the bar because they had been kicked out of their own wedding venue. A bridesmaid wandered onstage, and we called the set shortly thereafter.
What have you learned about your own joke-writing process that you didn’t know when you started?
Countless, countless lessons since starting in this career. I will say, the thing that sticks with me most as an inflection point is when you get enough facility with your own voice and sensibility that you are no longer chasing jokes — the jokes come to you not as the desired end but rather as the means to talk more broadly about your point of view and what you care about. Getting the laugh is no longer the destination, but the road you’re taking to share how you see the world. Is this answer too sincere? Pretend I’m typing this in a full, top-to-bottom clown outfit.
What’s the biggest financial hurdle you’ve encountered since becoming a comedian?
Hoo, boy! Lot of competition here. Probably the biggest one was needing emergency dental surgery for my No. 8 incisor (one of the two most visible teeth, right in the front of your mouth) and only being able to afford it by flying to Costa Rica. I highly recommend dental tourism to anyone who’s worried about affording both rent and their teeth! The dental clinic I went to did great work and offered a discount on a nearby rain-forest–zip-line excursion!
At the end of the movie 8 Mile, Eminem’s character, B-Rabbit, starts his final battle rap by dissing himself so the person he’s battling has nothing left to attack. How would you roast yourself so the other person would have nothing to say?
Sorry to disappoint, but I am literally unroastable. Nice try, Vulture! Every facet of my personality is somehow both remarkable and commendable, yet also deeply normal and relatable. No one has ever successfully made fun of me in my entire life. I don’t even think it’s possible.
When it comes to your comedy opinions — about material, performing, audience, trends you want to kill/revive, the industry, etc. — what hill will you die on?
The customer is always right. If an audience is not laughing at you, it’s because you’re not being funny enough to get a laugh. Bombing onstage and then blaming the audience after the fact for being “too sensitive” is for chumps and losers.
What is the best comedy advice, and then the worst comedy advice, you’ve ever received?
Best comedy advice I received as an 8-year-old child backstage at Dangerfield’s in New York while my dad was onstage, and I received it from a comedian called Uncle Dirty: “Kid, right when they think you’re gonna zig … YA ZAG!”
Worst comedy advice I’ve ever received has been any time a family member has suggested that the interaction we were currently having in that moment “should be your next sketch!”
More From This Series
- Eagle Witt Plans to Keep It Diabolical
- Emil Wakim’s Parents Finally Understand His Job Now
- Gianmarco Soresi Demands Inclusive Bullying in Comedy
- Veronika Slowikowska’s Got Magic to Do
