comedian

To laugh or to cry? It’s a question that feels a little too familiar of late — one confronted often while watching “Maddie’s Secret,” the debut as writer-director from comedian and performer John Early.

Playing the title role with an unnerving sincerity and startling sense of vulnerability, Early stars as Maddie Ralph, a young woman climbing the ranks as a Los Angeles food influencer while secretly hiding her struggle with bulimia.

Early’s performance is a truly remarkable highwire act, all the more so for the wig, padding and prosthetics he wears to play the character. Made in the earnest style of a disease-of-the-week television movie without ever tipping over into winking irony, the film is both funny and tender.

“That, to me, is Maddie’s true secret,” says Early, 38, on a recent video interview from the apartment he is renting in New York City while appearing onstage in Wallace Shawn’s new off-Broadway play “What We Did Before Our Moth Days.”

“The secret of the movie — the real twist of the movie — is not any kind of trope-y reveal,” Early says. “The twist is actually a tonal twist. What I hope is then that becomes funny: the sheer commitment to the stakes of it.

“At any given moment, you can experience it as totally sincere, you can absorb it genuinely and be moved by it,” Early continues, “or you can take a little break and step out of it and find it uproariously funny that we’re even doing this to begin with.”

John Early, front, and Eric Rahill in the movie “Maddie’s Secret.”

(Magnolia Pictures)

Early’s skillfully wrought psychodrama, which had its world premiere at last fall’s Toronto International Film Festival, is now the opening-night selection for this year’s Los Angeles Festival of Movies, playing Thursday at Eagle Rock’s Vidiots with members of the cast present for a Q&A, and then again on Friday at 2220 Arts + Archives in Historic Filipinotown.

“Maddie’s Secret,” which opens in theaters June 12, makes for a fitting kickoff for this year’s event. Though the programming includes movies from all over the world, organizers ended up leaning heavily into films made in Los Angeles.

“This year it really does feel like a homegrown festival,” said Sarah Winshall, LAFM’s co-founder and festival director. “What it ended up doing is making us think about L.A. as a small town as a result.”

“I think the movie is an incredible accomplishment,” said Micah Gottlieb, LAFM co-founder and artistic director. “It’s made by somebody who’s not just a great comedian but also is a cinephile, knows the history of cinema, is trying to make something that fits within that lineage, while also just making an all-out entertaining movie.”

“Maddie’s Secret” was shot in the same workaday, creative-class neighborhoods where LAFM unspools. (Maddie’s house in the movie is Early’s own home.) The actor and filmmaker describes it as a “very Echo Park, Silver Lake, Eagle Rock, Frogtown, Glassell Park, Highland Park, Los Feliz movie.”

The story is also rooted in Early’s own complicated feelings about the L.A. food scene.

“It’s completely born out of my time in L.A. and my initial shock when I was confronted with a burgeoning restaurant scene,” says Early, who grew up in Nashville and moved to L.A. from New York in 2016.

“Not to always be talking about millennials, but it seemed very much of my generation,” he says, “specifically these kinds of restaurants where the food is really expensive but you’re sitting on a milk crate, eating lots of Middle Eastern food made by white people. There was just something very funny about all of it to me, even though I completely also sincerely loved it and still do.”

The film’s supporting cast is drawn largely from Early’s own circle of friends, including his most frequent collaborator, the comedian and writer Kate Berlant, along with Conner O’Malley, Claudia O’Doherty, Eric Rahill and Vanessa Bayer. The film’s production designer Gordon Landenberger is his ex-boyfriend and Early is excited that a number of other key collaborators, including costume designers Kimme Aaberg and Izzy Heller and cinematographer Max Lakner, are working on a feature for the first time, just as he is as writer-director.

“I think I wanted to force myself at gunpoint into a place of innocence and naivete,” says Early. “I think this movie is a strange mutation of the camp tradition.”

(Justin Jun Lee / For The Times)

Berlant plays Maddie’s best friend in the film. She and Early have worked together on shorts, live performances and their 2022 Peacock special “Would It Kill You to Laugh?” The two always share what they are developing and so Berlant first heard about “Maddie’s Secret” when it was just percolating as an idea.

“It was a very wild proposition,” she recalls with a laugh while driving down L.A.’s Beverly Boulevard. “He’s like, ‘I’m going to play a woman who’s struggling with bulimia.’ I was like, ‘Good luck.’ I was astonished that he totally pulled it off and he’s such a true filmmaker. It was kind of miraculous.”

Berlant describes their shared sensibility, the ability to simultaneously play comedy and pathos, as a kind of freedom. “Just the underlying absurdity or joke really gives you the ability to go to these really intense emotional places,” she says. “It gives you the permission to go to places that otherwise would be too unbearably saccharin.”

For Early it was also a chance to fulfill his longtime desire to play an old-school ingénue.

“I think I wanted to force myself at gunpoint into a place of innocence and naivete,” says Early. “I think this movie is a strange mutation of the camp tradition.”

“I was astonished that he totally pulled it off and he’s such a true filmmaker,” says Kate Berlant, Early’s longtime collaborator. “It was kind of miraculous.”

(Justin Jun Lee / For The Times)

He references Susan Sontag’s famous essay “Notes on Camp” to say there are two kinds of camp humor, one that is unknowing and another that is knowing. It is near impossible now to genuinely create the first kind, but the process of making “Maddie’s Secret” was in a sense about being the second and striving for the first.

“In the age of the internet and in the kind of crumbling, depressing world we live in, it’s almost impossible to be the first kind of camp,” says Early, “to feel innocent and naive and to twirl. But obviously there is a part of me, there’s a part of all of us, that is very childlike and innocent and has hope. So I think this movie, it knows itself to be camp but it’s aching to be more like the first kind of camp. It’s aching to be pure and naive.”

Though it may be easy to place what Early is doing in the tradition of drag performers such as Divine’s work with filmmaker John Waters, to Early his performance in “Maddie’s Secret” sits outside of it.

“Drag is often obviously about a certain kind of extravagance and fabulousness and Maddie is very humble,” he says. “And so I don’t really see it as drag. It didn’t feel like drag doing it, whatever that means. It honestly just felt like acting to me.”

In dealing with the serious topic of bulimia, Early was careful never to make the eating disorder the joke. He points to a trio of TV movies — 1986’s “Kate’s Secret,” starring Meredith Baxter Birney; 1997’s “Perfect Body,” starring Amy Jo Johnson; and 1981’s “The Best Little Girl in the World,” starring Jennifer Jason Leigh — along with Lauren Greenfield’s 2006 documentary “Thin” as key influences on how he approached the film’s depiction of the illness. (Other non-bulimia influences include Alfred Hitchcock’s “Marnie,” Paul Verhoeven’s trashy “Showgirls” and Adrian Lyne’s “Flashdance.”)

“I don’t find bulimia itself funny,” says Early. “The genre of these movies — that’s what’s funny. It’s the emotional pitch of those movies and the way that they’re made and the acting style and the kind of moralistic quality while being totally pervy. All that was funny to me. And then also putting contemporary life — young, gentrified L.A. food-content influencer culture — putting all that through a melodrama-style filter, that was funny to me.”

While writing the screenplay, Early says he often found himself weeping, overtaken by the emotions of what he was creating. “I guess I’m not above the genre at all,” he admits.

But playing the part was another matter, having sold everyone involved in the production on a very specific tone and conception of what they would do together.

“I was like, ‘I am so stupid, I can’t believe I have put myself in this position,’” Early says, laughing at the memory. “I had set myself up to do the thing that I really had no proof that I could do, which is to play an almost Juliet kind of character who’s going through these extreme things. And I was the one that promised everyone that we would take it seriously. And then suddenly I was like ‘OK, well you have to do it. You actually have to do it.’”

Even if Early was uncertain in the moment, the result is undeniable: a dizzying, disarming blend of humor and emotion — and one of the year’s boldest performances.

COMEDIAN and actor Alex Duong has died aged 42 after a year-long battle with cancer.

The funny man was known for his appearances on Jeff Ross Presents Roast Battle and Blue Bloods.

A close friend who was by his side confirmed to TMZ that Duong passed away 11am Saturday at St. John’s Hospital in Santa Monica, California, surrounded by family and friends.

Duong reportedly went into septic shock Friday night.

He was diagnosed with alveolar rhabdomyosarcoma – a rare and aggressive cancer – last year.

A biopsy found an extremely aggressive tumour after he had experienced headaches behind his eye.

He eventually lost sight in his left eye.

In August, his comedians contemporaries hosted the The Alex Duong Has Cancer In His Eye Comedy Benefit Show in LA.

Ronny Chieng and Atusko Okatsuka were among the comedians involved.

He leaves behind his wife Cristina and daughter Everest, 5.

Duong grew up in Dallas, Texas as the youngest of six children.

He graduated high school and went on to pursue medicine before finding success in the creative industries.

His writing about the Vietnam War gained him meetings with producers in California, according to IMDB.

Duong left school to pursue a feature development deal with Melody Phan of Zenoost Media.

More to follow… For the latest news on this story keep checking back at The Sun Online.

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The Grammy-winning composer behind the signature opening chant in the song “Circle of Life” for “The Lion King” movies is taking a comedian to court for allegedly damaging his reputation by misrepresenting the song’s meaning on a viral podcast episode.

In a federal lawsuit filed this month seeking millions in damages, Lebohang Morake, known as Lebo M, accused Zimbabwean comedian Learnmore Jonasi of intentionally botching the translation of the lyrics, central to both the Disney films and the musical theater adaptations.

“I’m getting sued for $27 million and to make matters worse, I got served the lawsuit while I was performing,” Jonasi said in a post on social media Tuesday. The post included a clip of the comedian performing at the Laugh Factory when a manila envelope is tossed onstage.

“Right now, I’m looking for a lawyer. … I can’t believe I’m getting sued for telling a joke. What kind of stupid world do we live in?” he added.

It all started when Jonasi’s appearance on the “One54” podcast went viral late last month. In the episode of “One54” cited in the lawsuit, one of the podcast’s Nigerian hosts, Akbar Gbajabiamila, prompts the comedian with “I heard you had a problem with the ‘Lion King,’ why?” He then breaks into song, trying his hand at the chant and butchering the delivery.

“That’s not how you sing it, don’t mess up our language like that,” Jonasi says, before singing the correct lyrics in Zulu. When the hosts ask what it means, he says it translates to: “Look, there’s a lion. Oh, my God.”

The hosts erupt with laughter, saying that they’d always thought the chant was something more “beautiful and majestic.”

Jonasi often uses the same “Lion King” bit in his stand-up routines. He translates the song’s lyrics from Zulu and Xhosa, two of South Africa’s 12 national languages, and offers a broader critique on the film.

In Season 19 of “America’s Got Talent,” the comedian won over audiences by joking about how American movies about Africa often confuse Africans, asking, “Why do the lions have American accents?”

The civil lawsuit accuses Jonasi of intentionally mocking “the chant’s cultural significance with exaggerated imitations,” according to the complaint.

Disney’s official translation of the opening phrase “Nants’ingonyama bagithi Baba” is “All hail the king, we all bow in the presence of the king.”

“Hay! baba, sizongqoba,” the chant continues. It translates to “Through you we will emerge victoriously,” according to Lebo M.

Lebo M’s lawyers acknowledged in the complaint that “ingonyama” can literally translate to “lion,” but said it’s used in the song as a “royal metaphor” that invokes kingship, and that Jonasi intentionally misrepresented “an African vocal proclamation grounded in South African tradition.”

Jonasi “received a standing ovation” for a similar joke he made about the song during a March 12 stand-up performance in Los Angeles, according to the lawsuit. Such viral statements, it says, are interfering with Lebo M’s business relationships with Disney and his income from royalties, causing more than $20 million in actual damages. The lawsuit also seeks $7 million in punitive damages.

The complaint also argues that Jonasi presented his translation “as authoritative fact, not comedy,” so it shouldn’t get the 1st Amendment protections afforded to parody and satire.

Jonasi and reps for Lebo M didn’t respond to emails seeking comment, but the two have been busy on social media, making alternating statements and sub-posting each other for weeks.

Earlier this month, Jonasi revealed that he’d been receiving threats on social media for offending his fellow Africans. “It was never my intention to disrespect anybody,” he said in the video posted to Instagram. “When I went on that podcast, my intention was actually to talk about African identity. … I’d like to apologize to anybody that I hurt. But my comedy was a way to crack open a window for a conversation.”

“I had no idea the chant from ‘The Lion King’ was a royal welcoming song … I speak a little bit of Zulu, so I directly translated the words, and I even spoke to some of my South African friends, and most of them don’t even know what it means. And the rest of the world thought it was actually gibberish.”

A few days later, Lebo M posted his own Instagram video, saying he had attempted to speak with Jonasi privately, but claimed the comedian had disrespected him. “You are riding a huge wave of going viral on negativity,” he said in the video.

“I would like to encourage you to please slow down. You have a long way to go. I wish you success, but you cannot disrespect other people’s cultures that gave you the first opportunity to start with and claim it’s comedy. … You continue making a mockery of my work … the likes and the viral things won’t be there when it’s just you.”

After exchanging a few more public statements via Instagram, Jonasi was served with court papers.

He shared the news online and announced he’s selling merchandise and launching a GoFundMe to raise money for his defense. The shirts and hoodies for sale feature two different designs — one reads “Look it’s a lion,” and the other “Look it’s a lawsuit, Oh, my God.” As of Friday afternoon, Jonasi’s GoFundMe raised more than $17,000.

The tense situation seemed to be cooling on Friday morning, when Lebo M posted a lengthy statement to Instagram signaling a shift from an impending courtroom showdown to what his team is calling a “white flag moment.”

According to the post, Lebo M’s team has contacted Jonasi to “explore the possibility of a structured settlement.”

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

Comedians Jo Koy and Gabriel “Fluffy” Iglesias are used to delivering big laughs on large stages. But in the world of major L.A. venues, there’s big, there’s massive, and then there’s SoFi Stadium.

The show starring both comedians was billed as a record-breaking feat for stand-up when they sold out the 70,000-seater. Though the pressure to fill up the stadium was off, it still remained to be seen how the two comics would make their most dedicated fans laugh from more than a football field away. By that criteria, Saturday night was definitely a win.

Kicking off the early portion of the show at 7 p.m., fans were already filling the seats as opening acts from Iglesias’ camp, including Matt Golightly, Joey Guila, Alfred Robles, Martin Moreno (who celebrated his 58th birthday on stage) and ventriloquist funnyman Jeff Dunham got the crowd warmed up for about an hour before Iglesias took the stage first.

Comedians Jo Koy and Fluffy perform Saturday at SoFi Stadium.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

It was almost 8 p.m. when Iglesias emerged following a video skit playing on the jumbo screens and the stadium’s massive halo scoreboard with his funny misadventures of a routine doughnut run at Randy’s Donuts that turned into the plot of “Sons of Anarchy” spinoff “Mayans M.C.” featuring lead actors Emilio Rivera, a.k.a. Miguel Golindo, and Clayton Cardenas, known for playing Angel Reyes. Reyes caused the first major eruption of noise in the crowd by pressing a detonation device that triggered columns of smoke that filled the stage as Fluffy made his entrance in a white flat cap and custom Los Angeles button-up to greet the sold-out stadium.

“Thank you for being here, all I have to say is we did it!” Iglesias proclaimed as the crowd cheered.

Pointing and waving to fans in the nosebleeds, he took time to embrace the moment that topped his previous triumph of performing at Dodger Stadium.

Fluffy takes the stage at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Though the stage couldn’t have been bigger, both comedians used their ability to make a large event feel intimate by drawing the crowd in through storytelling and making them feel like they were part of a conversation. Iglesias set the tone of his set right away by telling us about the chisme (a.k.a. salacious gossip) surrounding his newly married stepson that weaved into stories about his travels all over the world including his controversial stop at the Riyadh Comedy Festival.

Iglesias also took a pause to relate one other historic fact about the two stadiums in L.A. he’s now been able to sell out.

Santino Villalovos of Tracy, Calif., shows his Fluffy tattoo during the Jo Koy and Fluffy show at SoFi Stadium.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

“The two biggest shows in comedy were Dodger Stadium and SoFi Stadium. … And what did they both have in common? They both featured a Mexican,” he said.

Even though he thought about retiring as a comedian after filling up Dodger Stadium (twice) to film his special “Stadium Fluffy,” Iglesias said the SoFi show inspired him to keep pushing himself. And alongside Koy he knew they could do it.

Fans react to special guest Jamie Foxx during Jo Koy’s performance at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood on Saturday.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

“Jo I know you’re in the back, thank you for trusting me man, we did it brother. And I’ll say it in front of an entire stadium, love you. Things like this for me is a huge deal because it inspired me and gave me another reason to keep doing what I love to do. And tomorrow I’m gonna be in the same situation I was after Dodger Stadium — what am I gonna do now? But until then I’m enjoy the hell outta tonight and I still have more stories to share with you.”

Fluffy’s most controversial (and true) bit of the night was breaking the news to his fans that his name is mentioned in the Epstein files, which sent collective shock through the stands.

“I’ve never been to the island, I’ve never been on the plane and I have never met Jeffrey Epstein,” he clarified.

Fans light up SoFi Stadium during Fluffy’s set on Saturday.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

The comedian said that according to reports in the Epstein files, the late convicted pedophile apparently tried to buy tickets to his show at an Improv in West Palm Beach, Fla., in 2014 but was told by his assistant via email that both his shows were sold out.

“Jeffrey Epstein, one of the most diabolical human beings to ever walk the face of the earth. Had the ability to connect with politicians, with influencers, with celebrities. He put people in very compromising positions. He got people on planes. He put people on islands. He was involved in trafficking. He was able to accomplish all these evil, crazy things, but at the end of the day, he still couldn’t get tickets to see my show,” Iglesias said.

Jo Koy reveals himself with the Jabbawockeez at SoFi Stadium.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

After a brief intermission, things transitioned to Jo Koy’s portion of the show featuring warm-up sets from TikTok skitmaster King Bach and longtime friend and stand-up star Tiffany Haddish, who came to the stage looking ready for the red carpet with a flowing silk dress, hair blowing in the man-made wind to deliver her brand of high-energy stories about becoming a real estate tycoon in South-Central.

When it was Koy’s turn to enter the stadium, he slipped in undercover, dressed as one of the Jabbawockeez — the legendary masked hip-hop dance troupe that danced onstage to a medley of West Coast hip-hop dressed in red with acrobatic swagger. At the end of a brief routine, Koy unmasked himself as one of the dancers, eliciting cheers from the crowd as his son helped him change onstage into his regular attire, Dodgers hat and a jean jacket.

Jo Koy performs at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood on Saturday.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

Always a man of the people, his set also reminded us that he’s also a man of the pets, specifically dogs, launching into a long bit that felt worthy of a slightly more adult version of a Pixar movie. But beyond jokes and stories, Koy kept coming back to the idea that laughter, more than fame, marketing or money, is what helped the comedians’ big plans for SoFi come together.

“This place is full, all the way to the top, people laughing and having a good time. I know there’s a lotta s— going happening in the world right now but guess what, we don’t wanna hear it right now. We came to have a good f— time. I’m not here to debate s—, everybody’s in here, everything they said wasn’t supposed to happen happened. Look around, every f— color of the rainbow is in SoFi Stadium tonight.”

Jamie Foxx, left, sings with Jo Koy at SoFi Stadium.

(Christina House / Los Angeles Times)

The vibe of the set was all about escaping the problems of everyday life. For most of the night that was taken care of by comedy. And sometimes that escapism was aided by the power of R&B. Twice during the night Koy shocked the crowd with special guest sing-alongs, first with Babyface coming out to serenade the crowd with a brief yet un-relenting hit fest he wrote and/or sang including “Can We Talk,” the ‘90s hit he wrote for Tevin Campbell, and the Boyz II Men anthems “I’ll Make Love to You” and “End of the Road.”

The second surprise came courtesy of Jamie Foxx, who popped out in shades and 10-gallon hat to sing the Ray Charles homage-driven hook of Kanye West’s “Gold Digger.”

Aside from any historic accolades, Saturday night was the culmination of a show that was a year in the making and a victory lap for the careers of two comics who’ve been in the game for decades. It was also a moment where comedy’s past met its stadium-size future in the L.A. comedy world. Though it’s hard to say when the next big comedian will have enough fans to fill a stadium in L.A., Saturday didn’t feel like it was the last time comedy fans will show up to fill SoFi for a pair of comedians who put in the work to make themselves a team worth rooting for.

If David Nihill was a philosopher, his credo might be “I digress, therefore I am.”

Instead, Nihill is a comedian. Kind of. “I don’t know if I think of myself in those terms,” says Nihill, whose “Cultural Appreciation” special has 2.5 million views on YouTube. “I wouldn’t even call mine comedy specials.”

Nihill is a conversational storyteller who rarely even moves on stage. “I don’t know how to do performance,” he says, “but I do know how to talk.”

His current show, “Taking Tangents,” which takes him to Irvine, Pasadena and Los Angeles from March 13 to 17, is a wide-ranging collection of tales, with some material shifting from show to show. We’ll come back to it, but first, a few tangents.

Growing up in Ireland, Nihill, 47, struggled to learn, hampered by dyslexia — “I came in the lowest five percentile in the whole country of Ireland for spelling, and I didn’t even spell my name right on the test” — and an aversion to math. He was made to feel inferior because of his difficulties. “I was 100% in the ‘I am a moron’ category,” he says.

Nihill was shoved into a vocational program and most of his friends dropped out of school. He stayed in, but even when his father offered to buy him a Super Nintendo for certain math scores, Nihill fell short. His father bought it for him anyway, he says, “but I sold it and bought myself a motorcycle even though I was 15 and not legally old enough to drive.”

He finished high school and became a poorly paid, overworked apprentice electrician. That was enough to motivate him to go to college; there, he figured out how his brain worked and how to learn. He even developed a passion for reading: His last show, “Shelf Life,” wove in dozens of book recommendations.

During our conversation via video after a New York show, I’d ask one question, then follow Nihill as he ambled through his personal history. He started with a story about jumping off a cliff in Greece and shattering his leg — a part of “Tangents” — then going to Australia, before he stumbled into a master’s degree studying business back in Ireland (despite botching his application). A new friend there took him to his first-ever comedy show in Glasgow — there are even tangents within his digressions — before getting him a job with Enterprise Ireland, the government’s investment fund to boost Irish business overseas. That landed him in San Francisco, part of the “Cultural Appreciation” special. He left to pursue business opportunities in Mexico but, due to a hurricane, somehow ended up in Chile, spent a year wandering north toward America, and then scored an internship in Colombia.

Nihill is a conversational storyteller who rarely even moves on stage. “I don’t know how to do performance,” he says, “but I do know how to talk.”

(Jim McCambridge)

Eventually, Nihill’s story works its way to his current career, which began by accident. “It was never a dream or a goal,” he says. A friend in San Francisco had suffered a spinal cord injury and Nihill wanted to run a fundraiser, but dreaded public speaking.

That leads to a minor diversion, back to a college public speaking course in which Nihill was so terrified that he got drunk before his presentation and introduced himself “as an exchange student from Southern Yemen.”

In San Francisco, he started doing live comedy to overcome that fear. Meanwhile, his business background led him to see an opportunity and he created FunnyBizz, a company and conference where comedians help teach business leaders, like Kevin Harrington of “As Seen on TV,” how to use humor to communicate. The business bankrolled Nihill’s early days in comedy.

While Nihill has lived in America for years, most recently in Los Angeles, he remains passionately Irish, which shapes his shows in several ways.

In Ireland, “your nature is to just default to funny stories.”

He says American stand-up is about taking a topic and making it funny, aspiring for a five-minute joke-filled late night TV spot. Irish comedians say, “This thing happened to me and I think that’s funny. Let me just repeat it.”

The new show is named after “tangents” so that Nihill can go down different rabbit holes each night if he wants. “My head is always doing 60 different things,” he says, and he loves keeping his storytelling “free form and unfiltered,” whether he’s in a pub or on stage (or, apparently, in an interview).

The new show’s subjects will be familiar to Nihill’s fans: his parents, his foolish behavior (there are drunken college-age antics in a story that somehow eventually weaves in White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt) and Irish culture. “There are few countries that punch above their weight in social justice and social impact,” he says, and he always looks to draw connections with other cultures around the world. But the observations and connections he draws are new.

In New York, he added a bit about how 35% of Jamaicans have some Irish roots, quipping “imagine how fast they’d be without that” (in a nod to legendary sprinters like Usain Bolt). But for Nihill, that joke only works if it’s couched within the larger context of the cross-cultural connections, including the fact that Jamaican-born political activist Marcus Garvey drew upon the Irish independence movement for inspiration.

“There has to be some social value to doing it,” he says, although he’s quick to add his comedy isn’t overtly political. “My dad’s a teacher and that lives inside of me. Humor can be the ultimate tool for social activism. I am deliberately getting people to expand their minds in understanding these connections. I want comedy that makes everyone feel good and maybe learn something.”

Nihill on stage at Hollywood Improv.

(Jim McCambridge)

That “feel good” part is central: While he discusses his mother’s death from cancer last year, he leaves out a beautiful but poignant part of their final days together. “I’m deliberately avoiding that,” he says, because he wants to maintain an upbeat mood.

He digresses to tell me the story, however, and it’s literally longer than this entire article’s word count. “A very long answer to a very short question,” he admits, before swerving into a tale about back when his father had overstayed his visa in New York — it involves his dad being interviewed on CNN, getting into a bar fight and avoiding deportation because the immigration officer hailed from County Cork and Nihill’s dad burst into a song from there, earning him a six-month visa extension. The humanity of that scene “in contrast to a 5-year-old being dragged off to a detention center” may end up in a future Nihill show.

Nihill loves sharing the stories that come from observing and listening to people but says he doesn’t love the spotlight, which, he admits, makes comedy an odd career choice. He says he prefers telling stories to just a few people.

“With comedy, the best part for me is that before a show I eat half a chocolate bar and I leave the other half in the hotel room,” he says. “After the show, I get to finish it. That’s true happiness.”