Matt Braunger is a Chicago-born, Portland-bred comedian whose deft observations about his life as a 39-year-old, oft awkward man are buoyed by a relentless goofiness that is pretty much irresistible. And people are starting to notice. After appearing as a cast member on the final season of FOX’s MadTV, Matt landed a multiple episode stint on Showtime’s critically-acclaimed Diablo Cody creation United States of Tara, and a regular role on NBC’s Up All Night. Then, earlier this year, Braunger was selected as one of the openers for Dave Chappelle’s attendance record-breaking streak of shows at this year’s Just For Laughs festival.
With Matt coming to town to do two shows at Comedy Bar in 9 days, we called him to talk about Portland’s hippie population, opening for Dave Chappelle, and performing Big Daddy Kane’s “Ain’t No Half-Stepping” in front of an audience of diehard rap fans.
So, you’re from Portland.
Yeah. That’s where I grew up.
In 2013, obviously, Portland is a very “cool” place to live and to pay attention to culturally. Growing up there, what do you think was the most stereotypically Portland thing you’ve ever seen?
Wow. If you just go to the Saturday market, which is located downtown, right near the Burnside bridge, you’d see a lot of stuff. It’s just kind of this market that I always loved as a little kid, but when I got older I was like, “Look at this hippie dippy bullshit. It smells like patchouli. No one cares about your paintings of wizards.”
[Laughs]
It’s just this kind of place that–I wouldn’t say anyone could set up a little tent and sell stuff, you have to get a license–but it feels that way sometimes.
People think of Portland as so hipster, but they forget how hippie it is–which is not necessarily a bad thing, but it can drive you crazy.
Did you ever try the NyQuil Donut at Voodoo Donuts?
You know, it came and went when I wasn’t living there. They also had Pepto Bismal donuts.
Oh, geez.
Which, you know, the NyQuil thing, I can’t really see, but obviously people like that kind of–I won’t even call it a high–it’s more of a low, dosing themselves and eating a greasy donut. The Pepto Bismal I never got, because if your stomach is already messing with you, I don’t know why you shotgun a donut that has this remedy inside of it. It’s so bizarre to me. It’s like you’re filling up a giant jalapeno with Tums.
You mention in one of your Conan sets prank-calling people by choosing the goofiest names in the phone book. What would say was the most dangerous prank you pulled as a kid?
Probably just calling people and playing what–at the time would be late 80s rap music–and asking people to guess the song, like a radio contest. And then playing the same thing over and over again. I mean, it’s really easy to trace a call. You can just call the cops and say, “Where does this person live?”
That or getting a fire extinguisher–not the foam kind, but the kind that shoots water–and shooting it into open car windows. That was a particularly stupid night. And then you just run.
Or when I was a little kid, I didn’t live in the nicest neighborhood, and me and my friends would throw snowballs at these big Cadillacs that were probably owned by pimps. Then you’d scream and they’d come after you. It was one of those things where it all fades into a mist of forgetfulness.
Then you look back and go, “Oh, yeah. I could have been murdered.”
[Laughs] Yeah. Tell me about your Just For Laughs experience this year.
Oh, it was fantastic. It was one of those things where I was just doing a couple of shows, nothing too big, and I was wondering if I was even going to go. And then I thought it’s never a bad idea to go and have people see you. I haven’t been in two years. So, I went and I picked up a bunch of other shows. I got to open for Chappelle. And I got to do this great hip-hop karaoke show. It was just a great weekend.
What was the Chappelle night like?
It was incredible. I went up first, then Hannibal Buress went up second, and then he brought out Chappelle. Chappelle did an effortless hour and half of whatever was on his mind. It was like a dream. He’s such an incredible performer. I’ve been such a fan for such a long, long time. It was one of those cool things. It was just one of those things…I found out like the night before.
You also mentioned your karaoke. You performed a really, really impressive rendition of Big Daddy Kane’s “Ain’t No Half-Stepping.” Do you remember the last time you half-stepped and it bit you in the ass?
[Laughs] I think anytime you talk up a project or something you’re working on and then you just stop working on it, then someone brings it up a month later, and you’re like, “Gosh, I’m a lazy, sack of shit.
Yeah, yeah. I know the feeling. Well, right now is a big moment for you and a lot of the people you came up doing stand-up with, like TJ Miller, Hannibal Burress, Pete Holmes, Kyle Kinane…back when you were first starting out in Chicago, did you feel like you were with a bunch of people who were going to be extremely successful?
Well, it kind of goes back to the doing the Lion’s Den open mic once a week on Monday nights, and it’s just kind of a thing where I would always try to do a new five minutes every week. I was conscious of the fact that everyone had seen all my stuff. So you were always trying to do something new. It was one of those nights where 30, 40 comedians would go up, so some people would be amazing, some people would horrible, some people would do just insane stuff on stage, so I think that environment made us keep writing and made us find our voice. We had no idea that we were a part of something–a collective– that was getting really strong. It just kind of happened.
I remember living in LA for four years and then having somebody saying, “Fuck, all you Chicago guys are so fucking good.” And I remember realizing [there was a crew of us doing really well], “Yeah, gosh. That’s right. We are.” It just makes me smile, for sure.
Toronto has a really fantastic and fertile stand-up scene. What’s some advice that you got on the open mic circuit that you think is essential to a burgeoning comic?
Just do what makes you laugh. Don’t do what you think the crowd wants to hear. Don’t do, “Oh, this will be funny to people and will be a popular sentiment, but I don’t really embrace it myself,” because the thing is, you’re going to have to keep doing the same jokes again and again and again, and you’re going to have to learn to love them every single time or the audience is going to know. They can tell when you phone it in, they can tell when you’re just going through the motions.
Bring them into your world. Put them behind your eyes. I think the most important thing for comedians is perspective. People want to know what this person thinks, where they’re coming from, what makes them different. That’s it in a nutshell.
Just write and do stuff that makes you laugh.
Word. You’ve come into some big success in the last few years, like being on network TV weekly with Up All Night. What has been the most surreal moment of your career so far?
Oh, geez There’s been a lot. The one I always think about is getting invited over to the couch on Letterman. And making him laugh. I was literally the last guest of 2008 before everyone went on holiday vacation.
The thing is, until they say “And we’re clear!” no one is supposed to move until Letterman gets up and goes up the stairs to his dressing room and the door closes. That night, they were like, “And we’re clear!”
And I felt him get up next to me and go behind the couch and put his hand out and say, “You’re very funny.” And I shook his hand and said, “Thank you!” without looking at him. And then I just heard him go up the stairs and the door closed. The staff was like, “Alright, you’re clear!”
Then I took some pictures with some of the crew and some of their kids, and they were like, “Great job!”
Then you go out a side door, and you’re on an empty street in midtown Manhattan, by yourself, and you’re like, “Did ANY of that happen?”
That’s New York. You can be crushing it on stage in front of thousands, and then you go through a door and you’re by yourself on a shitty street.
Matt Braunger is headlining two shows (8:30 & 10) at Comedy Bar (945 Bloor St W) on Saturday, November 16th. For tickets, visit Ticketweb.
Jordan Sowunmi is a writer and editor at the Toronto Standard. You can follow him on Twitter @jordanisjoso.
