Tom Papa has found success as a standup, author, radio host and podcaster, screen actor and more. He’s appeared in films like “Top Five,” “The Informant!,” and “Behind the Candelabra.”
Papa’s latest Netflix special is “You’re Doing Great,” where he talks about family, food and just getting through the day. When he’s not hosting on SiriusXM, you can hear Papa on his podcast, “Breaking Bread.” He’s also a frequent guest on “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me,” which you can hear on WAMC Saturdays at 11.
Papa will be in our region for a performance March 11 at 8 p.m. at The Mahaiwe in Great Barrington.
You know, it's so interesting. Your special came out, ‘You're Doing Great,’ I think just before the pandemic took hold, and so much of what you were talking about everyday anxieties got compounded for people. So to begin with, what's your life been like in the past couple of years?
Pretty much the same as everybody's. I think that's kind of a pretty profound thing that that we discovered is that we all kind of moved in the same rhythm. You know, we all have the same fears at the same time and the same joys and the same anxieties. And we all muddled through and changed how we did our jobs, and how we celebrated and saw people. Pretty much the same as everyone. That's what I'm finding, like going out on tour. It's like we all went on sabbatical at the same time. And then came back, but the saving grace for me was being able to still do the radio show. And I would sneak out wherever it was safe to try and do some stand-up. And just being able to get the perspective from comedians every day on my radio show was a godsend.
I think part of what added to the stress for people was not hearing comedians’ perspective on what was going on. I know when I first went back and saw comedians live was almost like a relief. It was like, Oh, I'm not alone here. They went through the same thing. They're going through the same stuff. And they're making it funny and laughing at it. And then it was like a pressure relief valve in a way. So being able to be the one who's kind of part of the comedy world and also a fan of it, that was kind of like the light at the end of the tunnel.
What's it like as a stand-up to do a show when people are wearing masks?
It's fine. It's actually not a problem. When I first showed up, I was like, Oh, how's this gonna go? Then you don't even think about it. The audience doesn’t really think about it. And I did a show in a theater and sometimes the spotlight’s right in your eyes, so you can't see the audience at all. It wasn't until the show was over that I realized people were even in masks. So it really has no effect. I mean, it's kind of like you know, it's like being on a flight. It's like no one really wants to do it. But after a couple minutes, you kind of forget about it.
We heard a clip from your latest special. You have I have kind of a positive message throughout, you know, sort of telling people not to be so hard on themselves. How did you come to that theme and that idea?
It's just kind of the way I live my life, I'm a little more optimistic than I am cynical. And I was really getting a feeling. And this was, you know, a couple of years before the troubles, as I call them. I was just getting this feeling that people were having this overwhelming feeling that they're working really hard. And they're busting their butts, and they have a lot of stuff. But it was never enough. And people had this overwhelming feeling that they weren't good enough, that they weren't getting enough, that there was always more out there.
And it was creating this kind of anxiety in people and I just would feel it. Like when I was on tour, and I just started talking on stage like, No, you're doing great. Like, if you're actually coming out looking for laughs, you have your family and you got your job, this is it, you've already done it. You don't have to work and have this anxiety of there's always more out there. You've actually already done it, you've crossed the finish line, you're doing great. And people would come up to me after the show and literally thanked me for telling them that they were doing great and that they were OK. And that they were good enough. And I was like wow, I mean, it just started like to show after show people were coming up and saying thanks for letting me off the hook. Now I can go about my life and enjoy it. So I just kept hammering that point. And it just kind of resonated with people. And I guess I wasn't alone in thinking it.
Do you have any sense of where that that pressure comes from for people?
Yes, I think I think there's a lot of factors, I think, you know, I think social media is a big driving force of it. You know, we're the first generation that's had these devices in our face, always, you know, those are marketing tools. And we're actually now our neighbors and our friends and family and people we like to watch as entertainers, they're all unwittingly part of the marketing of all of this. And so there's always that sense, like, I have to do more, I've got to go on that vacation, I have to get that car, I have to do those things. Our parents had those pressures from the people in their neighborhood, or the people at work, but then it was off, you could turn it off. We're not turning it off. We're seeing it all the time. I think that's really, you know, I used to say, keeping up with the Joneses. Now it's keeping up with the entire planet. It’ too much.
A few moments ago, you said that you're more optimistic than cynical. is that something you had to work at? And the reason I ask is, you know, so many comedians come from a darker place. And that's what motivates them to get on stage and work through it.
Yeah, no. I've always…you know, we all have our stuff. And every human being has got their little insecurities and their demons and you know, who knows what forces someone out into the arts to begin with, but I grew up in a very…I think it's, it's a combination of just being born this way. And having the environment of Italian immigrant grandparents, who had been through World Wars and depressions and still refused to do anything but enjoy themselves and be thankful for being alive and being here. And that was really, that wasn't something that was passive or just mentioned once in a while. That was kind of drummed into our heads as children our whole lives. That how dare you not look around and be grateful for what you have. But I do also think that part of that is a chemical thing too. I think you're lucky to be born without chemicals in your brain that make you a little more depressed and have a little more struggle. So it was kind of a combination, I think, genetically lucky and then many having those lessons just hammered in all the time. But, you know, I naturally feel it. I don't have to be like Oh, Grandma said don't complain today. It's just now a natural part of me.
You're in a very competitive industry, obviously. Hollywood and comedy. Some people win and some people lose often. Is this something that you've had to work on in your career, you know about, you know, various career disappointments, ups and downs, that kind of thing?
Yeah, I guess so. I mean, there's always struggles, there's always failures. But I think as far as the career goes, it's kind of the secret you don't want to get out to people in Hollywood is that you would do this even if you weren't getting paid. You know, we’re very fortunate to find something that you love to do. And in comedy to be up on stage and have people laughing around, that's where you live every day. And this thing that I thought of, as a kid that I'll maybe I'll go do that, that looks more fun than what my parents and uncles are doing. That I'm doing that is pretty amazing. And that's not to say that, you know, if a TV show craps out, or you didn't get this part that you wanted, that doesn't sting, of course. But I think that's the good part about being an artist, is you should be a little unsettled, and always want more, and it makes you work harder. But at its heart, like being a comedian, it's like, all right, my grandmother would definitely slap me on the back of the head and be like, how do you dare I dare you complain about that?
How did you get started?
I started in New York. Just going to open mics and things like when I was in college, I wanted to be comedian as a young kid. And then I went to college and was in the theater and started acting. And then when I got out, I realized, well, people have to hire you to act. But I can look in the Village Voice in New York and book an open mic spot, and just get on stage. And the first night that I did that and got laughs, that was it. I was like, Oh, yeah. All right. This is all going according to plan.
And how old were you then?
I was probably around 26.
Do you remember any of your material or jokes from the first time?
Yeah, I had one joke that was that was actually a joke that had structure to it. And got laughs like, I had energy and just trying to be funny and stuff. But I wrote down a couple of jokes. And the one that I remember: They’re handing out condoms in grade school now. In seventh grade, or something like that, I'm screwing up the setup, but it was basically, so they're handing out condoms now to kids in school for free. When I was in seventh grade, I needed three notes and a blood test just to get a ride on the Bookmobile.
That's pretty good.
That's not so bad for your first joke of all time. And then I remember, I ran out of jokes. It was only a 5 minute set, and I was out of material by two minutes in. And then I just started screwing around with the audience.
You were doing crowd work on your first time up?
Yeah, I was just doing anything I could to survive.
When were you able to make it full-time in comedy?
So I started in ‘93. And I quit my day job probably around ‘96. And I had this I had I had a gig through Dewars scotch, where they were bringing in young people and teaching them how to mix Dewar's scotch in cocktails and stuff, and they would have 200 people come and sit in this banquet room, and they needed someone to host it. And they wanted a comedian and this young woman saw me perform somewhere and offered me the gig. And it was like a month long, where every week I was getting paid to do this thing. And it was equal to what I was making, writing ad copy. And that was it. I just jumped as soon as I could. That was my whole goal, as soon as I could equal the money I was making, which wasn't very much but as soon as I can get the money equal to what I was making trying do advertising, I would leave and that's what I did.
I don't know if you like the term, but you're known as somebody who works clean. You don't do a lot of raunchy humor, that kind of thing. Was that a conscious decision you made early on or just something that took hold after you found some success?
It was pretty conscious. You know, I don't really talk that way. In my everyday life. I'm not really that person. When I first showed up in the room around all these great comedians in New York, who were that, I was like, oh, man, those are the cool guys, that's what you have to do. And I would go on stage and try and be dirty or curse and stuff. And you could just feel the audience like, what are you doing? You know, but they didn't even know me, but they knew that that wasn’t real me. So I was like, well, that's the goal in comedy is to be as honest as you possibly can. Not just about what you say, but just about who you are, and how you carry yourself. And so I just started being myself. And when I was naturally being myself, it just became a cleaner act.
So then I'm naturally going along that way. And then when I met Seinfeld, and he really took a pride in working clean, and that it was much harder to be equally, if not more funny than the dirty guys, but without the crutch of using those provocative words. He really saw pride to it. So then I started carrying that pride as well. And now being spit out the end of all of that, the combination of it being myself and having a little pride in it, it's just the way I work. It's just the way I am.
I like to talk about subjects that maybe are more provocative, but that doesn't have the language or the filth to it. And I feel like the act, I worked so hard on my act, every single day, my entire adult life is spent in some, at some point, paying attention to the act, and writing it and creating it and editing it and making it better and better and better. And I realized, I want that to be something of quality, that should be something that I'm proud of. And I remember walking on my way to the Comedy Cellar in New York and walking through the park and there were these kids like literally maybe fifth grade. And they were all like f this and f that, swearing up a storm. And I was like, well, if the culture is at a point now, where grade school kids are swearing like George Carlin was, maybe my act should be a place that's a little more special than the playground.
You mentioned Jerry Seinfeld. You've had a very long relationship with him. You've toured with him for many years. He played a sort of pivotal moment in your development because he gave you an early boost of confidence after seeing one of your sets. I find him very fascinating, because as you say, you know, he's one of the best stand-ups ever, but you don't know how much of the real Jerry you're getting to see as an audience. Do you have a different insight into him, spending so much time with him as you have?
Yeah, I think, yeah, I know him very well. I hear that from time to time that like, well, who's the real Jerry. You’ew seeing the real Jerry?
Oh, really?
Yeah. Like he talks more about his marriage and his kids now. He's not one of those guys that's going to…his goal is always just be as funny as possible. What's the funniest joke possible. So he's not going to be kind of wasting time or not wasting time, but going off into things about his personal life just so he can share? He's not that guy. Like so when you see him talking about cereal or whatever. That is Jerry, you're getting the essence of the person, just by what he is up there and what he's doing that is the guy. He's not one that's like really, you know, opens up and really analyzes all the stuff.
You know, I remember Jay Leno once said to me, we were talking about comics that come up and give their political views on things. And he had an interesting take on it. He said, the audience knows what you're about the minute you get up on stage. You don't even have to talk about the subject. They know which way you lean, what kind of a person you are, comedians are very vulnerable and very open. And when they get on stage, everybody knows pretty much who you are and what you're about. And it really is accurate. And it's really true. So when you see Jerry, you see this guy who's a little overly confident, talking about silly stuff. And he's keeping you a little bit at arm's length, and just filling you with joke after joke after joke. That's the guy.
On one of your recent podcast episodes, you talked to David Cross, who's a different kind of comedian than you. And you talked about how he was one of the cooler older students in high school when you are showing up on the comedy scene. So it was interesting hearing you at this point of your life talk about a time when you were sort of less defined and maybe less confident in your future career. I was just wondering if you could give the younger version of yourself some advice, what would you say, having had now that three decades of experience on the stage?
It's funny, we always still think of ourselves as almost the age when we're starting. Like we were very much more childlike than, like my friends, I went to high school with who got straight jobs and families and stuff. It's very funny. Like, I see them as like 50-year-old people now, and I don't see myself that way. But my best advice would be just focus on the craft of what you're doing. And it will take care of itself. There's a lot of when you first show up, there is that thing of like, am I as cool as David Cross. And do I have to be David Attell? And should I try and be like political, like Colin Quinn, and what should I wear? And what should I do? And how do I hold myself? And how am I going to make and what is the audience want and what's going on in the culture, and will the Tonight Show like me, and there's all of these things that are that really are nothing more than distractions, it's insecurity and fear and distraction. And the real essence of what we're doing is being as honest and truthful and funny as you can. And that only comes from working on the craft of your set and your jokes and what you're going to bring up onstage. That's it. It really goes no deeper than that. Just keep chipping away with your little pick hammer at your little joke mountain and keep trying to find and go deeper and get better, just keep getting better at the craft, and all that other stuff will take care of itself. You'll end up with cool pants or not and it won't matter. You'll be so good that all the rest of the stuff will end up being very clearly nonsensical distractions.
Last thing. Let's say you could only make one more loaf of bread. What kind would you make?
If I could make one more loaf of bread and then I have to retire? Trying to not eat and enjoy my life anymore. I would make an olive loaf. I would make this the Tartine inspired olive loaf with green olives, Kalamata olives, herbs de Provence, and lemon zest, and possibly walnuts depending who is in my family who's going to want to eat it. If the kids are around, we'll skip the nuts.
