This is worth a watch. Richard Metzger interviews Julien Nitzberg, director of the documentary film, The Wild Whites of West Virginia. The film follows a wild out of control hillbilly family living on the edge of the law in Boone County, West Virginia.
It runs for 20 minutes, but watch it for the film trailer at the beginning at least.
I interviewed Rob Jones, who is The Voluntary Butler Scheme, for Muso's Guide a couple of weeks ago. You can read my interview here. The video for his single 'Trading Things In' is down below.
Here's a hilarious interview with Woody Allen from 1971. He's taking the piss all the way. It's played completely deadpan, but the interviewer tittering at several points gives it away. It comes in four parts.
Interviewer: "I rather enjoyed it." Woody Allen: "Yes, but you're mistaken."
I've only just discovered this is online, but I did an interview with Glasgow University's Magazine a couple of months ago about the business of comedy. Here it is. Don't worry they spoke to more than just me.
Here's a revealing interview with Jerry Seinfeld as he promotes his forthcoming Bee Movie.
"I don't mind it at all when people come up to me. I figure I owe them that much. It's my job to talk to them. The truth is few things make me angrier than celebrities whining about how hard it is to be famous. Stop whining! It's not hard. It's easy. It's what you wanted."
Here's an interview with Stewart Lee from Chortle.
Before asking what he makes of the state of stand-up right now, I mention that he’s sometimes been critical of other comedians in the past.
‘Have I? When?’
Well, there was a fairly sizeable attack on Joe Pasquale in his show 90s Comedian.
‘Well, that’s hardly… I mean, all his stuff’s stolen. It’s not a controversial opinion. All comedians know that. I don’t think he even really counts as a comedian, does he? It’s not even really a little dig about Joe Pasquale – it’s a 15-minute explanation.’
Having decided to reunite, Armstrong and Miller recruited a team of writers, including The League Of Gentlemen’s Jeremy Dyson as script editor.
Armstrong explains: 'We have always been big fans of Jeremy. He has a fantastic outlook and a wonderful scientific and emotional handle on comedy. He's really good at putting his finger on what is funny and we leapt at the chance when he was suggested.'
The pair tried out some of their sketches in front of a live audience, and Miller said: 'It was one of the best things that we did. It got us used to performing in front of an audience again, and helped us try out lots of material before we went into the studio.’
“I still stand by Freak Show,” states Cross. “My poor attitude is partly to blame; I may not have been the easiest person to work with at that time. But Comedy Central can be blamed for the rest.”
Asked to pinpoint where it all went wrong—or right, depending on your p.o.v.—Oswalt points to a scene from his childhood. It’s Sunday at St. Catherine of Siena, the church Mrs. Oswalt tried to get her son to swallow. Oswalt, not yet the ostensibly raging atheist with a shit-tipped blow dart for every pious prick, showed up in what you might call his Sunday Okay; he was lookin’ sharp, but not sharp enough for some. “There was an elder in the church that complained about me not dressing nice enough,” Oswalt recalls, “and it turned out to be Robert Hanssen, that spy that was selling secrets to the Russians. He was flagging me for not dressing nice enough, and he was trying to take out our country.”
Mirman created his own “comedy” curriculum at Hampshire College, with his thesis a one-hour standup he wrote, performed, produced and promoted. “I never understood why anyone thought what I did was so impractical,” he observes. “We were all going to temp for several years until some of us gave up on our dreams.”
Clement and McKenzie were roommates in Wellington, New Zealand, when they began writing together around 1998. Clement had been doing comedy with the Humourbeasts and McKenzie was playing music, but at a time “when we didn’t have much work on,” Clement says they picked up guitars to learn David Bowie and Leonard Cohen songs. “We’d never remember them,” Clement says, “so we started making up our own songs.” Although these had funny parts, they weren’t necessarily comedy songs. They played them at an open-mic comedy night anyway.