How did you get into comedy?
I saw the film A Chorus Line and decided I should be an actor. But when I finally tried it professionally, I realised I lacked a crucial ingredient called “having talent”. I considered what other ways there were to be on stage and tried my hand at open mic comedy. I did that once a week, every week, for a year. I loved it and I hated it, and eventually stopped because of the parts where I hated it.
Eight years later I met a guy who, on our first date, said: “You’re like a comedian or something.” This guy became my boyfriend, then my husband. Through all of it, he kept badgering me to try standup again. And finally I did. Twelve years and six months after my last open mic gig. The second time, it stuck.
Who did you look up to when you were first starting out?
The truth is that I obsessively watched everything Louis CK ever did or ever made. When that became a problem, I switched over to Chris Rock who, it turns out, is also quite good at his job.
Can you remember a gig so bad, it’s now funny?
A couple of months ago, a guy heckled me by saying I look older than I am. The audience turned on him and I retaliated with nasty comments about his mom. She wasn’t there; it was more a situation of me guessing at what a horrid person she must be to have raised such a son. I wound up getting so aggressive, the audience turned from my side to his. I made a man who shamed a woman about her looks into a victim. So, am I a comedian? Or am I just a magician who pulls the fear of emotion out of her hat?
What’s your new show about?
Politics. Kidding! Little joke to myself there. It’s a show about the Ties That Bind. I think there’s a something-for-everyone vibe about this show – which is a phrase that tends to be used about stuff that’s either properly good or extremely mediocre. LET US PRAY.
What’s something people don’t expect about the life of a standup?
People go, “You do standup? I can think of nothing scarier!” And I think, “Well, sure. I’m scared too. All the time.” I never say that though, as it boosts my sense of specialness to be treated like I’m brave. So I stare into the middle distance, shrug, and say, “I guess you just get used to it.”
Best heckle?
No such thing as a good one. The impulse to shout at someone on a stage is a bad one, always. 98% of people don’t have it, and if you do, it’s because you’re trying to join in but can’t work out how, or because you’re very drunk, or because you’re just a knob. Regardless, I feel sad to see you.
What’s your process for writing material?
I’ll think something is funny, overwrite a bit around it, and memorise that. Then I’ll try it on stage in a way that’s wooden. If it works even a little, I’ll take it as an indication that it could maybe work better, once the writing and performance get less shitty. This process, from start to finish, can take between a day and a year.
Any comedy bugbears?
Every few months, I’m asked to audition to play the role of “mom” to various of my twentysomething-year-old colleagues. I am 42, and the situation as a whole points to an industry obsession with youth. “Are you 26? Let’s get you on a screen so we can tell your story!” versus “Are you 42? Would you like to be considered for the role of ‘mum to 26-year-old’?” I would not.
I think what happens is, the people who make these shows are desperate to have young people watch their show and think that allowing over-50s on screen will cause young people’s eyes to bleed. But the joke’s on them. This youth demographic which showrunners are obsessed by? They don’t even watch TV!
Any pre-show rituals?
I pee and then I drink a glass of water. One out, one in. Rock and roll!
Any post-show rituals?
I drink a glass of white wine accompanied by an episode of 30 Rock or RuPaul’s Drag Race … or sometimes just an old Super Bowl halftime show. As someone who has zero interest in American football but still loves a musical spectacular, I give the Super Bowl itself a wide berth and just watch the halftime shows on YouTube. They’re a weirdly soothing way of winding down.
Sara Barron: Hard Feelings is at the Pleasance, Edinburgh, 3-28 August.
