interview

Adam McKay, the former head writer of Saturday Night Live, recently answered some questions from the Yale Record.

Q: Were you a funny kid? What sorts of jokes or pranks did you do growing up? Have you always wanted to go into comedy?

I was more of a punk wiseass than a “funny” or “witty” child. I found amusement in such pithy activities as crank phone calls or banging on people’s doors at night while making monkey sounds.  I watched loads of TV. Barney Miller, Police Squad, Taxi, Soap were my favorites.  As a second grader I literally remember thanking God for the Three Stooges. So it was hardly Mort Sahl in training. The only reason my tastes changed from throwing snowballs at cars to writing scripts was because it’s warmer inside and snowball throwing doesn’t pay well (although better than improvising).

Q: Your résumé includes Chicago’s Second City Improv Troupe and the Upright Citizens Brigade as well as writing and making short films for Saturday Night Live. What made you decide to move from improv to writing, like on SNL? Is there a particular form of comedy you enjoy the most?

I started as a stand up while in college in Philly. I was okay at best and not too happy with where my material was headed in order to get paying jobs. A friend of mine had come back from Chicago, where he had studied this thing called “long form improv” with a teacher named Del Close. He told me it was a form where you can do literally anything that comes into your head. That was that. I sold everything and moved to Chicago.
  Out of those classes and performing at the I.O. Theater with a group called The Family I met all the future members of the Upright Citizen’s Brigade. We started by doing interactive improv where we would do scenes with the audience and staged pranks. Once we took a whole audience back to my apartment. Another time I advertised my own suicide and then threw a CPR dummy off a five-story building. Horatio Sanz was arrested after leading the whole audience into the streets with torches and plastic guns to start the revolution.
  There really was no transition or leap from improv to writing. Improvisation is writing. In fact, when it comes to writing for actors, there is no better training. By the time I went to Second City I had done thousands of scenes and had a decent sense of heightening and finding the game in the scene. It helped a lot.
  So though I don’t improvise much anymore it’s the foundation of a lot of what I do. Del Close rules like “Always play at the top of your intelligence” and “Use your third thought” are golden.
  As far as what forms I enjoy,  I like the faux-documentary style of Christopher Guess and The Office.  It’s totally loose but structured, allowing improv and strong structure.

Q: You just directed your first feature-length film, Anchorman, starring Will Ferrell. Say a little about that.

It’s the most fun I have had in a long time. There’s no way the movie can match the experience of shooting it, so I’m reconciled to some level of disappointment when its released. We ended up with three and a half hours of material because of all the improvisation we did.  Thank God for DVD.
  I wrote it with Will, so it has his unique sensibility and voice. But Will is so cool—he (and I) stressed a strong ensemble. So there are many other fun performances: Steve Carrell, Fred Willard, Vince Vaughn, Christina Applegate, Paul Rudd, etc.
  It is however a very, very silly movie. Though I argue “writing dumb” is the hardest thing to do well. Homer Simpson is the character I always point to. He’s brilliantly dumb. Hopefully our movie is smart-dumb as well.

Q: Yale is a very politically active campus, and sometimes I have a pang of guilt—which quickly passes—that I write for a humor magazine instead of saving the rainforest or marching in protests. What do you think the role of comedy in society is?

I feel that inherently good comedy is subversive. I don’t believe there is such a thing as truly inspired comedy that is status quo.  Look at the funniest show on TV: The Daily Show. It’s the only program that is any way dealing with this criminal Bush administration’s looting of the country. I’m not saying all comedy has to be overtly political. But if it’s not addressed then a big part of reality is being ignored.  Even shows like The Office or Ali G, though not political in definition, thrive off of depicting authority figures as ridiculous and out of touch. Ricky Gervais’ boss character is so similar to Bush its frightening.
  Too often comedy and improv can fall into what I call the “white and witty” category which is when white guys reference TV shows with irony in their voice and then take a victory lap. I’ve done it. And, beyond being lame, it doesn’t work. There’s no blood in the water. Look at Leno. He’s still doing Clinton jokes nightly. What world is he living in?
  I’m most proud of the pieces I wrote for SNL that were on the square socially and politically and that some people hated. I once did a sketch where after Cheney and Bush got into the White House (like mold), Cheney in a televised address told everyone making less than five hundred and seventy thousand a year to change the channel because nothing he said would concern them. I knew these guys were creeps, but I had no idea just how bad things would get.
  But the truth is it’s easier to be funny when addressing politics as well as sex, race, culture. To ignore it gets to wondering what the agenda is.

Q: Many people raised a big hue and cry recently over the board game “Ghetto-opoly,” although the creator justified it with something along the lines of “we need to be able to laugh at ourselves.” Do you think good humor has to be edgy and will inevitably offend some people?

Sure. But if a white guy created that game he should get shit. Especially a rich white guy. That’s not his joke to make.
  There’s a difference between material that offends because it is thoughtless and material that rattles and threatens. Believe me, if they had put out a board game called “Media-opoly” or “Corporate Jerk Off Fest” (Your turn...six!...Move three squares forward to Bohemian Grove where you and Rupert Murdoch decide to dismantle the FCC while playing nude volleyball with Oliver North and Ralph Reed...), they would then be doing something that could actually upset the people who need to be upset.

Q: According to some bio I found of you on the Internet, you’re married with one child. Does fatherhood change how you view the world? Do you ever worry that your kids won’t find you funny?

What’s worse is that my three year old thinks I’m hilarious.  I’m basically in the same league as the word “poop” and Grover. Me and Grover and the word Poop, tonight only.
    No, actually having a kid, Lili, is the best thing in the world because you just don’t care as much. She’s so far above everything else in my life that I have instant perspective. And my wife is a theater director so its not like we’re having bologna sandwiches at 5 every night.

Q: What advice would you give to those aspiring to make it in the world of comedy?

Spend all of your time learning things that have nothing to do with comedy or how to write or how to act. Study math, the muscular system of lemurs, subatomic quark fission, Basque conjugations...Then go do comedy. Also listen to Bill Hicks and call Donald Rumsfeld’s office three times a day requesting a picture of him without a shirt on. When you can stay on the line for twenty minutes...then...oh, I don’t know...Do your own shows. Get on stage. Write a lot and throw out your act every week.

--Andrew Kau