An Interview with Eugene Mirman

Tonight at Mississippi Studios, comedian Eugene Mirman and singer-songwriter John Wesley Harding will assemble a few local friends—authors Monica Drake and Mark Acito—plus Brooklyn musician Lucy Wainwright Roche, for the Portland stop on their Cabinet of Wonders extravaganza.

Last week, I spoke with Mirman over the phone about Cabinet of Wonders, his indie-rock career model, and why purple cows are not funny. I also hit him up with a favor, which you can read all about in this week’s music section. But you can check out the furrowed-brow portion of the interview after the jump.

Mississippi Studios, 3939 N Mississippi, 7 & 10 pm, $15-17

Mercury: So, what should I expect from Cabinet of Wonders?

Eugene Mirman: What do you think you would expect? What’s your guess?

It sounds kind of Vaudeville-y.

Yes. I agree. I dunno. I think whatever you’re thinking is what it’s going to be. It will be a silly/literary/vaudeville-y event. We’re having different acts in different cities. So in Portland right now we have Lucy Wainwright Roche and a few others. And, obviously, Wes and myself. I think Marty from the Shins is going to do something. But I’m actually not one-hundred percent sure about Marty.

No, that’s great! I’ll just quote you and when people complain they’ll be angry at you. Not the guy with the byline.

(Laughs) Perfect!

How’d you meet Mr. Harding, or is it Mr. Stace?

Yes, it’s Wesley Stace (John Wesley Harding). We did a show together in New York City. It was a comedy show hosted by David Cross and Todd Barry and Jon Benjamin. They used to have a musical act on every show and one week it was Wes. And after that, through various happenstances, Wes and I would run into each other, do shows, stay in touch and stuff.

Now, it looks like you’ve actually been participating in some of the music portions of Cabinets of Wonder, as well. At least providing sound effects? Anyway, the descriptions I’ve read have been rather vague—

Exactly! Well, I won’t ruin it for you by describing it accurately. I will just say, I’m going to need you to bring a seat belt to the show. Because the show will eventually crash.

(Laughs) I ask you about your participation in the music on stage because, hack journalist that I am, I’ve already decided the angle for this article before even talking with you.

I know! You’re the thing I hate!

Well, this is why I wanted to give you the opportunity to set me straight. There’s this broader story about your career’s intersection with indie rock. It’s something that’s always mentioned in your press, but I haven’t seen much real background on it. So, care to explain? Was there a first step you can identify for carving out the rock club rather than the comedy club route?

Yes, definitely. The first agent that wanted to book me was a music agent. She was working with Modest Mouse and the Shins and she was the person who sent my website and videos to a guy in Seattle who runs the record label that put out my first album (The Absurd Nightclub Comedy of Eugene Mirman, Suicide Squeeze, 2004). So a lot of the breaks I’ve gotten have both been what I would want and the opportunities that came.

Cabinet of Wonders seems to be the most finely hewed example of your engagement with indie rock—what with the way the show’s structured. Am I full of shit by saying that?

I wouldn’t say you’re full of shit. There’s a show I do in Boston every month with friends of mine. It’s a variety show with a different theme. There’s music and comedy and presentations. But, yeah, this is the first time I’ve ever gone out on tour with a musician and we’re actually working out things to do together on stage, rather than one person open up for the other. This is a genuinely blended show. We’ve met up several times to work out things that are both comedy and music. So, in a sense, yeah. But in another sense, I also feel that my whole career has been unconventional.

How much of that have you done by design?

Everything breaks two ways. In one way it’s probably an artistic choice. But in another way it’s a very practical choice. Like, when I started touring, I could either go some place and stay in a very filthy condo and perform for audiences that most likely disliked me. Or I could go on tour with a band, where if I win the audience over they will likely become genuine fans because they are the people I’m trying to reach. Plus, rock clubs pay more and are cheaper for the audience. So it’s much easier to bring myself there.

Okay, I want to move to maybe slightly murkier territory here. Let’s talk about absurdity. I think the thing I like about your work is actually something you summed up when you said, “absurdity isn’t random, it’s thoughtful.” And that’s reflected throughout your work. How else might you flesh out your definition of the absurd?

In terms of comedy it’s very easy to say “there’s a purple polka-dotted cow in my room.” To me, that isn’t absurd. Absurdity is a very subtle thing that when you think about it it’s like, “that’s a ridiculous idea.” Something that seems absurd in a broad way isn’t as genuinely surprising as something that’s very specific. It would be perfect if I had an example because I’d blow the world away. But instead, I’m like “purple cow, not funny.”

(Laughs) Do people sometimes misconstrue where you’re coming from with your comedy?

The thing people always say in comments or e-mails about my videos or something is, “man, you must have been so high when you came up with that.” But the thing is, I wasn’t. I don’t actually smoke pot. And also, I made it in the afternoon. Like, a lot of my videos I make, I get up early to write and a lot of the things I think of come to me in the mornings and afternoons. And they’re just sort of who I am. I’m just sort of a weirdo. I’m not taking something that makes me a weirdo.

There is definitely a precision to the language of your jokes. So, it doesn’t surprise me at all.

Thank you. And obviously some things are spontaneous. Like, I’ll shoot for two hours and cut it down to two minutes. Some of it is written and some of it I come up with on the spot. So there’s a mix of things, which is actually what makes it enjoyable to do.

More about writing comedy: I’m curious what kinds of things you studied or what revelations you had while studying comedy at Hampshire college.

In terms of theory, a lot of what I learned is somewhat known. You know, there’s one about comedy being used as a corrective tool by a society on an individual. People would make fun of someone’s behavior and that person’s behavior would change. And I always thought of it as the opposite where a comedian would make fun of a society and that society would change. That is how I’ve always thought about the potential power of comedy.

Can you think of any examples?

Not that you’d ever point to it alone but Tina Fey’s impression of Sarah Palin is something that solidified people’s understanding of Palin. On the other hand, Palin kind of made an impression on her own that was similar. But there’s also Lenny Bruce, who made fun of religion. And his livelihood was taken away and he died. Then four years later, it was overturned in the courts and four years after that they made a movie about it. So there are definitely events that happen that propel culture in a huge way. The thing is, if comedy is funny and honest it can be extremely powerful.