Comedian Mark Normand has announced his first hourlong special for Netflix, “Soup to Nuts,” which will hit the streaming site on July 25.
Since he was a kid, Normand knew he was interested in comedy. But once his mother doled out VHS tapes of the Marx Brothers, it became an integral part of his life. After watching it, he soon discovered comedians, films, shows and specials from the past, all due to his mother’s suggestion.
“I thought, ‘This is great. It’s all jokes. This is hilarious. Still holds up.’ Then I went into a deep dive, where you find Jerry Seinfeld, George Carlin, Richard Pryor and Eddie Murphy,” Normand told PvNew. “And then it was my whole world.”
Since stumbling on old clips of Seinfeld, Normand has taken the stage with his comedy hero, opening up for the acclaimed comedian, as well as performing sets on late night TV, from “Conan” to “The Tonight Show With Jimmy Fallon” and “The Late Show With Stephen Colbert.”
Normand has created a distinct, and dark, style of stand-up. That style — which he refers to as “excessively punchy, due to cowardice” — has also landed him spots on Comedy Central’s “Comics to Watch of 2011,” the Village Voice’s “Best Comedian of 2013” and Esquire’s “Best New Comedians 2012.”
Here, Normand spoke with PvNew to discuss what led him to comedy, what advice he has for other comedians and just how far he’s willing to take a joke. In addition to the conversation, Normand provided an exclusive trailer and clip from the special.
What brought you to pursue stand up?
Well, I’m horrible at everything else and I always loved it. I always looked at Jerry Seinfeld, Steve Martin and Richard Pryor like being an astronaut — so I was terrified of it. But I was so rudderless and broke and had zero prospects that I decided to screw it, I’ll try an open mic. And then I was hooked.
What was your first open mic like?
Well, I’m such a wuss, that I would go to open mics to watch, because I was too scared to go on. I would go to open mics and sign up, and then just to bail. I wouldn’t even go on. One day, I drove to Lafayette, La., got really drunk and went on there. It went pretty well and then I blacked out.
Since those early days, you’ve written some risqué jokes, but do you ever have any apprehension when you’re approaching topics that are typically deemed off limits?
Oh definitely. My intention is not to offend anybody. But I just think dark stuff is funny. That’s kind of one of the great things about comedy. I heard recently that in Ukraine in the war, all the soldiers are saying horrific jokes to each other just to get through it. I think that’s so cool and so important. Like you get a horrible death in the family, you make jokes in the funeral. It’s therapeutic and cathartic.
That’s why it’s so hard and frustrating when people get so upset or offended — and they’re allowed to be offended — but you’re like, “Oh, I meant to bring a happy light to this. I didn’t mean to hurt anybody.” I also think we’ve gotten this we’ve got almost a Pavlovian response to certain words. It’s weird, like you make a suicide joke, and nobody cares. But then you make a gay joke and they’re like, “Hey!” But they’re both jokes. I don’t know why you’re okay with me killing myself. I think we pick and choose weird stuff. It’s interesting, but I think it’s almost been conditioned in us, like, “Oh, this is bad, but this is okay.” Well, they’re both bad. If you’re going to get mad, get mad about all of it.
Are there any topics that you adamantly stray away from?
Not really. I stray away from just being totally mean to a group. It’s still gotta be a joke. It’s still gonna be a punch line. I think you can make jokes with any group but if it’s just totally negative and hurtful, I don’t think that’s that well crafted. It’s not really about the topic to me. It’s about though the way you go about it.
While your comedy typically veers dark, I read that based on your time with Seinfeld, you still urge other comics to create clean comedy. Were there any lessons you took from that tour or your late night performances?
I think clean material is important, because it’s good for work. Some people won’t listen to dirty comics, the same way they won’t watch dark R-rated movies. It’s good to have. Also people say, ‘Oh, I’m so funny,’ but I’m like, ‘Are you funny enough to write a clean joke about dogs or Thanksgiving?’ Because it’s actually really challenging. So, even if you don’t like clean material, I would recommend challenging yourself to try it and it’s really hard — and it’s a good exercise.
But Seinfeld and late night is interesting, because I think it’s good to have all the tools in the belt. Anybody can make a million dick jokes, but if you can really get a clean one out there, that’s just another feather in your cap. Seinfeld was a really good lesson because he’s like, a huge hero of mine. He has a certain way he wants a show, and it’s his show. I’m happy to be on it, so you got to adapt to his rules.
Can you walk me through how you and Netflix connected for “Soup to Nuts?”
Just 10-plus years of grinding. Then I got a Comedy Central special, then I got a half-hour special and then an hour. Then Comedy Central fizzled out as technology changes. Then here comes this Netflix thing and that’s the new HBO — it used to be HBO and that kind of fizzled. Then it was all about Netflix.
So you go “Well, I’d love to get to Netflix. But I’m nobody.” So you got to do the YouTube route, just to kind of prove yourself and then through that I did well. So then Netflix was like, “Well, we’ll give you a half hour. Just to really test you again.” I did the half hour, which was tough because it was in the middle of the pandemic. It was hard to put it all together, but we pulled it off. Then I got the hour, eventually.
How long were you working on the special?
Well, that half hour did well enough that I got lucky enough to help ticket sales. So I hit the road like a psycho, like a wild man. I was doing all these weird cities in middle the country. Just going out there with nothing, and an hour was always like the carrot on the stick. Like “I don’t want to write today. Well! You might get an hour one day on Netflix. So keep going and suck it up!” So I threw a bunch of stuff together and pulled it off. And then when I heard I was getting an hour then I really doubled down. I had to hone it, tweak it and then pull it out.
What was your initial reaction to landing a special with Netflix?
A little disbelief. One of those weird things where, when you’re 17 and you’re into a girl, and then your friend goes she actually likes you back! And you’re like “Get out of here!” I couldn’t believe it. We were all so excited, but didn’t want to get too excited because they might pull it back. Very, very exciting. But then the pressure kicks in that I gotta kill this too.
How long were you workshopping the “Special” joke?
That joke took forever. It’s already a dicey topic. A joke is already hard to work out, you have to find the footing, but when it’s a taboo subject, it’s three times as hard to work out. That was a tough one. The beauty of that joke was, I never really attack people with special needs. That was my saving grace.
When I was a kid, special meant “Oh, he’s a special boy. He’s different, fun and smart.” But then it’s kind of like how pride rolled over to mean a week or a month for the LGBTQ community. Words just morph over time and I thought that was the interesting part of the joke. So you’re complaining about the rainbow? What about the word “special”? That’s more more apparent. That was the funny part to me.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
