The Boston Globe
Laugh riot
The Boston Comedy Festival turns 10
By James Sullivan, Globe Correspondent | November 5, 2010
When Kevin Meaney got his big break on “The Tonight Show’’ in 1987, Johnny Carson introduced the nutty preppy as a Boston act. Though Meaney had been perfecting his purse-lipped impression of his scolding mother for years on Boston stages, he was in fact raised in suburban New York and introduced in San Francisco, at one of the early International Comedy Competitions there.
In San Francisco he met a contingent of comics from the Hub, including Lenny Clarke and Martin Olson, who encouraged him to make the thriving Boston scene his home. They liked his act, even if the judges didn’t. “I think I came in 39th out of 40, and one kid had died,’’ jokes Meaney.
Ever since his first “Tonight Show,’’ Meaney says, “Everybody thinks I’m from Boston, and I don’t deny it.’’ When he performs in town, he’ll say, “Yes, it’s great to be home.’’
Meaney, who kicks off this year’s Boston Comedy Festival tonight with two shows at the Hard Rock, hasn’t been back for seven or eight years, he thinks. He’s been busy. He had a long run in the Broadway production of “Hairspray,’’ and he’s been raising his 11-year-old daughter.
Oh, and he also found time to tell his wife (and then Jay Leno’s audience) that he’s gay. Now he has a new catchphrase to add to the one he’s best known for (“That’s not right!’’): He jokes that the best way to tell your wife you’re gay is to walk in the door and announce, “Hi, honey, I’m homo!’’
When Jim McCue, the founder of the Boston Comedy Festival, shared a bill in the Midwest with Meaney a while back, Meaney asked whether McCue knew that he’s gay.
“Kevin, everybody knows you’re gay,’’ said McCue. “You sing show tunes in a bow tie!’’
Now marking its 10th anniversary, the Boston Comedy Festival has carved out a threefold niche. It’s a rallying point for the prestigious alumni club of Boston comedy (honoring Steven Wright, Tony V, Norm Crosby and other local products over the years); a nationally recognized draw for headlining talent (this year’s festival features the bone-dry Todd Barry, Brad Garrett of “Everybody Loves Raymond,’’ and Lifetime Achievement Award honoree Robert Klein); and a star-making showcase for the next generation poised to take the microphone.
Hundreds of young comedians submit tapes each year, vying for one of the 96 slots now reserved for the festival’s newcomer competition. In recent years the fest has produced such notable successes as Myq Kaplan, Shane Mauss, and this year’s roast victim, Joe Wong.
“The competition is fierce before people even get here,’’ says McCue, eating a piece of apple cobbler in a booth at a restaurant near his Hampton, N.H., home. With talent scouts committed to the festival — representatives from the big comedy events in Montreal and Las Vegas (formerly Aspen) are regulars, and Emerson graduate Eddie Brill hosts a “Late Show With David Letterman’’ audition at the Improv Asylum next Friday — McCue says, “We force people to get their six-to-seven-minute set together’’ for potential television exposure.
Meaney, who is now in readings for an upcoming Broadway production of “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,’’ remembers all too well the mayhem of his own early years, when he lived in an upstairs room at the Barracks, the dilapidated flophouse where Clarke, Olson, Kenny Rogerson, and many other Boston comics crashed.
“It was horrible!’’ he yells — the booze, the drugs, the dentist friend working on a set of false teeth with a Bunsen burner while drinking from a bottle of whiskey. Worst of all for Meaney, he had to pretend to care about his gang’s raunchy assessments of the women at their parties.
“That’s how standup is,’’ he says. “It’s all guys, basically.’’
McCue and his sister Helen, who has become an integral part of the planning and promoting process for the comedy festival, take pains to ensure that the field of contestants is diverse. About one-fifth of this year’s competitors are women, and the festival draws comedians from all over the country.
McCue does, however, make some amends for homegrown Boston talent. “There’s no exact formula,’’ he says.
Ten years into the festival, it’s still a seat-of-the-pants operation, he admits. There’s no set weekend; last year the festival took place in late summer. Mostly, he’s just trying to avoid competing with Red Sox postseason games, which tend to “blot out the sun’’ for other event promoters.
The first time the festival sold out the Cutler Majestic (with his friend Lewis Black headlining), McCue spotted a scalper outside and, much to the guy’s dismay, laid a big hug on him. It was a turning point. McCue says he’s indebted to Emerson alum Vin Di Bona, the producer of “America’s Funniest Home Videos,’’ who has become a key financial backer over the years.
McCue has written a book, “Embedded Comedian,’’ about his experience entertaining troops overseas, which he has done for about a decade now. His father was a Marine, which might explain some of the son’s aptitude for organizing a disparate group of fearless performers as they prepare for battle.
The senior McCue enlisted during the Korean War, but ended up serving during peacetime.
“They heard he was coming,’’ says McCue, “and surrendered.’’
James Sullivan can be reached at sullivanjames@verizon.net.
© Copyright 2010 The New York Times Company
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