If you’ve been watching Louis C.K.’s phenomenal new show “Louie,” which just wrapped an against-expectations successful season on FX, you might, on seeing the man live, feel a strong urge to give him a hug. He seems like he could use one. C.K., who brought his stand-up concert doc “Louis C.K.: Hilarious,” shot at a 2009 performance in Milwaukee, to NYC’s IFC Center last night and tonight, is a maestro of his own misery, using breathtakingly profane comedy to chronicle his recent divorce, his reentry into the dating scene, his experiences caring for his two daughters, aging, his looks and, overall, the ever-more-real threat of mortality. There have always been comics who’ve traded on failure and self-loathing, but there’s a warmth to “Louie” that belies its notably dark territory.
Whether being bullied by a teenager, discussing gay slurs over poker or looking up an old crush on Facebook, C.K. embodies a practically spiritual belief in the power of unswerving honesty. That inability to disassemble, seen in both the variation on himself he plays and in the characters he encounters, leads to excruciatingly awkward scenes (“Its easier to masturbate if I use this lubricant,” he explains to a TSA worker in episode five) but also moments of blindsiding humanity and connection that are all the more powerful for coming out of such unsentimental situations.
“Louis C.K.: Hilarious,” which had its premiere as the first stand-up concert film to screen at Sundance earlier this year, is, like “Louie,” written and directed by C.K. The film’s playing in eights cities before heading to a TV premiere on Epix on the 18th and, eventually, DVD. “Hilarious” differs from typical comedy specials by being shot up close and personal on the RED, with a jib and a Steadicam on stage — C.K. said in the Q&A after the screening that he was inspired by Led Zeppelin concert film “The Song Remains the Same.”
The results are mixed — there’s an intimacy that you can’t get from a camera mounted in the back of the room, but the relentless lean in can start to seem a little claustrophobic, skipping larger movement (a bit about taking the jerk-off gesture to its conclusion loses something when, initially, the gesture takes place out of frame) in favor of watching the sweat bead on C.K.’s forehead.
But it’s engrossing to see the progress of C.K.’s material, which he breaks down as evolving over about a year, starting with formative gigs in NYC comedy clubs, leading to first 20, then 45 minutes of material that becomes a headline tour show and ultimately a special or, this year, the series. “Hilarious” covers plenty of C.K.’s (and “Louie”‘s) favorite themes, and has some obvious through lines, from his compulsive solitary consumption of ice cream to being told by a doctor “you’re only cosmetically overweight” to a trip to a nightclub to a tale of childcare disaster and epiphany that echoes the final show in the series. Other segments are consistent in sentiment, from a bit on the “white person problems” Americans complain about (uncaring about the far more serious issues plenty of people in the rest of the world face) to hyperbole in word choice — “we go right to the top shelf with words these days” — leading to the film’s title.
Answering questions after the screening, C.K. addressed the show (FX doesn’t give notes until a full episode is delivered) and its renewal (called in for a meeting, he expected problems with the just finished “God” episode, and instead was told season two was a go). He also discussed last week’s drunken Twitter tirade, during which he took shots at Sarah Palin (who he described as “a beautiful villain”), only to end up guesting on “The Tonight Show” with her daughter Bristol the next day. “It was weird to sit next Hitler’s daughter, who’s famous for having a baby too young,” he noted, but in characteristic fashion, the anecdote ended with his realizing she was terrified and nervous, and telling her she’d done a good job: “She’s just a person.
Among the funniest viral bits in recent years is Louis C.K.’s rant about our culture of kvetching, which has now been viewed more than 5 million times on YouTube. The object of his scorn is people who, instead of appreciating technology, add it to their list of complaints when it’s not running flawlessly.
“Now we live in an amazing, amazing world that’s wasted on the crappiest generation of spoiled idiots who don’t care,” spews the comedian in a chat with Conan O’Brien.
Whiny as it might be, that generation came up big late last year for the comedian born as Louis Szekely. Well over 200,000 of them parted with a fiver to stream or download his self-financed, self-edited, self-distributed, DRM-free stand-up special “Live at the Beacon.” It was probably the most audacious artist-led media disruption since Radiohead’s spend-what-you-will gambit for the album “In Rainbows” in 2007.
Like the Brit mope rockers, Louis C.K. demonstrated that if you’ve already got a following you don’t necessarily need the distributor middlemen who bloat the price for fans. As revealed on C.K’s website and echoed around the internet, “Live at the Beacon” did more than $1 million in sales, which after costs and a sizable donation to charity, left C.K. with a take of about $220,000. No one’s getting ultrarich here, and C.K. took a huge chance (and left some money on the table) in forgoing the guaranteed fee that would have come with a traditional production deal.
It was even riskier when you consider that followers could have just taken to the torrents to download a free version of the show. Piracy must have been reduced, however, by C.K.’s deft marketing of the special. To get the word out, he turned to Reddit for an “Ask Me Anything” session to answer questions directly from his fans. And he nailed it. Spending over two hours and answering more than 50 questions before he had to run to pick up his daughters, he came off less like a soulless, money-grabbing celebrity than the raw creative force his fans want him to be.
Besides the honesty, there were little things that made supporting C.K. feel good. Those who bought the special through his website had to share their email — an easy way for C.K. to grow his list except that he made opt-out the default setting, a nice touch. “I checked opt-in,” wrote one on Reddit, “just because I appreciated that it was defaulted at opt-out.”
The strategy has already yielded one copycat that’s had the unintended effect of showing how deft C.K.’s touch was. This month, comedian Jim Gaffigan announced his own $5-a-pop comedy special, with a dollar from each sale going to a charity for wounded veterans. You’ve gotta love the thought, but announcing it on “a personal media-management platform” called Whosay? That’s not cool.
Did submitting himself to the unmediated scrum of Reddit and, quite simply, acting like a human being, help Louis C.K.’s “Live at the Beacon” get pirated a little less and sold a little more? Probably. There are definitely some pirated versions of the show kicking around, but that was inevitable. What matters is that C.K., now writing the third season of his FX show “Louie,” demonstrated just how far a talent can make it with the help of a smart digital presence — and a few hundred thousand spoiled idiots.
Hatred, is a strange emotion to feel towards a phone, a fact that is not lost on comedian Louis C.K., who calls out smartphone owners for being ungrateful for their “amazing” devices. “We have these phones that you can call in an airstrike. You can look at the top of your own head,” said the standup star during his 2011 Comedy Central special Hilarious. “We have this beautiful thing, and we hate it. I never saw a person going, ‘Look at what my phone can do!’ Nobody does that. They all go ‘This fucking thing it sucks.’”
To choose to be a standup comedian is risky in this economy, no? ”Yes,” Louis C.K. said. “Stupid.”
The comedian, also known as Louis Szekely, is the forty-something star, writer, director and occasional editor of the eponymous, double Emmy-nominated comedy Louie, which begins its second season Thursday on FX Canada.
Louis C.K. - he adopted the stage name C.K because he grew tired of people mispronouncing Szekely - admits there were plenty of hard times before he struck it lucky, if not rich, exactly, with Louie.
“I’ve had, what, two years? Probably five good years,” C.K. said, deadpan. “Before that, I had 20 years of uncertainty and suffering and ego destruction and poverty - all those things. That’ll always outweigh the good times. There’s no way I’ll ever catch up to the misery years with the good ones. It’s impossible, no matter how good it is now.
“And, of course, there’s a decline coming. It’s not like I’m going to keep doing well. That’s not in the cards.” C.K. gives himself five years of good times. Eight, tops. ”If I don’t do anything dumb or don’t get a disease or some-thing, I think it’ll be great. And then it’ll start to degenerate, like uranium.” Not that he has regrets. “I don’t regret anything,” he said, decidedly. “I’m grateful for all those years.”
Even the ones when he considered quitting. “Absolutely, I thought about quitting, yeah. But after you do standup for, like, five years, you’re kind of screwed, because you have no other skills. You can’t get other jobs. It’s like being in prison; you’re not suitable for any other career. So I couldn’t quit, even if I wanted to.
“I’m just stating basic facts,” C.K. adds. “I’m a cheerful per-son. I like living a difficult life. It’s fun. It’s really a great thing to witness your life hit-ting rocks. If you can just step aside for a second and go, ‘Oh my God, I lost everything; it’s funny; it’s interesting’ - it’s more fun than living a middling, 70-per-cent kind of life, I think.”
Louie features C.K. as a semi-autobiographical reflection of himself: a newly divorced father raising two young daughters alone in the big city. The weekly comedy is loosely structured along the lines of Seinfeld in its early years, when Jerry Seinfeld would insert moments from his standup act into the live action of a single man and his single friends hanging out in a Manhattan apartment.
Louie has touched a nerve. C.K. was nominated last summer for a pair of prime-time Emmy Awards, one for lead actor in a comedy series and one for writing. Not bad for a modestly budgeted, first-per-son comedy that bowed with little fanfare - C.K.’s start-up budget was just $200,000 - on the upstart FX cable channel in the U.S. FX has ordered a third season, which will likely debut this summer.
C.K. attributes a recent jump in attendance at his standup shows to Louie’s success, modest as that success is. ”I’m not really that famous, when you think about it. I mean, I’m not Brad Pitt or somebody like that. It’s still just a little show on FX. A huge [number] of people don’t even know it exists.
“I’m close to my audience, though. I think I have more tools in my box than other guys who might try it. Also, I know how to do this stuff. I know how to write and shoot and edit. I’m technically adept, and that helped with the website. You need a big skill set. I’ve been building one for a while. And I have some fans, from my early standup days, so that helps.
“But there are still only, what - a million people who watch this show?” About 1.6 million, actually. That’s how many tuned in to see Louie’s season finale on FX. That sounds like a lot - until you consider that Two and a Half Men regularly pulls in more than 13 million viewers on CBS.
Louie is the funnier and more accomplished program, though, judging from critics’ reviews and award nominations. Louie shows off C.K.’s insecurities and humanity with wit and style, and it appeals to his small but loyal fan base.
The second season will feature a trip to Afghanistan, in which the fictional Louie will perform for the troops, mirroring C.K.’s real-life tour with the United Service Organization (USO) in Iraq, Afghanistan and Kuwait, in 2008. C.K. considers himself politically antiwar and a pacifist, but he admires soldiers’ sense of duty, especially when they’re assigned to conflict zones.
“I’m terrified of Season 3 being not as good as Season 2. It keeps me up at night. I don’t sleep a lot right now. That keeps me world-weary. It’s a weird time to be an American and human. So, you know, there’s a lot to keep me depressed.”
An interview with Louis C.K. before Showtime aired his stand-up special “Chewed Up.”
(This is a GREAT interview.)
Episode description: Leslie and Ben run into Dave (Louis C.K.) while meeting with the Chief of Police. Andy searches for a song to represent Leslie’s campaign.