It took Des Bishop, 50, a while to find his \u201cAmerican voice.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve spent the last decade trying to develop my American career,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
That sounds strange from a veteran stand-up whose voice shouts New Yawker the minute he starts talking at volume. But Bishop\u2019s journey from Queens to Greenwich Village\u2019s Comedy Cellar, where he shot his new \u201cBridge & Tunnel\u201d hour (and his previous one, \u201cOf All People\u201d) was as circuitous as it gets.<\/p>\n
Bishop\u2019s mother was Irish American and his father had been a model and actor in Britain before becoming a family man, moving to Queens and settling into a steady job. But life at home wasn\u2019t steady for Bishop, who began drinking at 12 and got kicked out of school at 14. His parents shipped him off to boarding school in Ireland. \u201cI could think of no better place for a young alcoholic to be,\u201d he has joked in his stand-up.<\/p>\n
Bishop (who returned home for Christmas and summer vacations) sank lower and lower before finally kicking alcohol and drugs at 19. He settled in Ireland and built a comedy career doing specials unlike what you\u2019d find most young stand-ups doing in America.<\/p>\n
His breakout was \u201cThe Des Bishop Work Experience,\u201d a 2004 TV series in which he worked an array of minimum-wage jobs and survived on just that salary, blending documentary footage with stand-up about what he learned.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was a social experiment that turned me into a well-known comedian,\u201d Bishop says, adding that this type of programming, which might be considered \u201chighfalutin\u201d public TV fare in America, is more mainstream there. He followed that up with \u201cJoy in the Hood,\u201d in which he did stand-up workshops with troubled youth in Dublin and, again, wrote material based on his experience.<\/p>\n
Following that, he learned the Irish language and performed stand-up in that tongue for his next docu-series, \u201cIn the Name of the Fada\u201d; later he lived in China for a year, learned Mandarin and performed in that language for locals in \u201cBreaking China.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m good at fitting into different situations, which is probably related to the trauma of being sent off to another country,\u201d Bishop says. \u201cI like to immerse myself and have a real experience and hopefully make it funny so it\u2019s like a spoonful of sugar for the audience as they learn something.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bishop built an unconventional career through immersive docu-series, learning Irish and Mandarin, working minimum-wage jobs and mentoring Dublin youth, blending sharp stand-up with social commentary rooted in addiction recovery and an immigrant, activist household.<\/p>\n
(Mike Lavin)<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/figure><\/div>\n
Beyond adapting to a new culture himself, Bishop credits his parents for helping him develop his curiosity about other people and cultures as well as blending social commentary and comedy. \u201cMy father was an immigrant and my mother ran a homeless shelter and it was a socially conscious household,\u201d he says. (He also explored grief in \u201cMy Dad Was Nearly James Bond,\u201d a tribute to his dad before he died in 2011, and a set called \u201cMia Mamma\u201d written after his mom died in 2019.)<\/p>\n
But he also says the addicts and alcoholics he bonded with in recovery in Dublin also opened his eyes. \u201cThey helped me understand the unfairness of society,\u201d he says. \u201cMost had been incarcerated and people always say it\u2019s about the choices you make but I learned it\u2019s not about choices, it\u2019s about chances.\u201d<\/p>\n
He struggled but his was still a \u201cmiddle-class substance abuse journey.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI got sent to boarding school and when I f\u2014ed that up I got sent to a better one,\u201d he explains. \u201cI did stupid stuff but always got another chance. These guys didn\u2019t get another chance until they got clean and completely turned their life around.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bishop says that beyond the topics, his comedy was shaped by living in Ireland. \u201cStorytelling is a more mainstream version of stand-up outside of the United States,\u201d he says. \u201cIt\u2019s more the norm in Ireland and Great Britain \u2014 we all do shows at Edinburgh Fringe, and that\u2019s where I honed that skill.\u201d<\/p>\n
But when he would occasionally return to America, where his fish-out-of-Irish-water tales didn\u2019t always translate, he felt uncomfortable onstage. After his China special in 2014, he decided to spend more time here, honing his act for American audiences.<\/p>\n
\u201cI had to be quicker with my punchlines and find ways to keep people engaged,\u201d Bishop says. \u201cThe servers are dropping plates or taking checks, or you\u2019re at the Comedy Cellar following Chris Rock or Dave Chappelle is standing in the doorway waiting.\u201d<\/p>\n
Talking at a New Yorker\u2019s volume certainly helps. In one new bit he notes that people always ask, \u201cWhy are you shouting, why are you so angry,\u201d to which he responds. \u201cI\u2019m not angry. I\u2019m from Queens. This is dinner volume.\u201d<\/p>\n
He gradually learned to meld his storytelling with the faster pace of jokes but things didn\u2019t fully click until he stopped focusing on his Irish life and shifted back to his home turf. \u201cThe Irish stuff is part of who I am but I\u2019m a guy from Queens and when I embraced who the f\u2014 I am I suddenly found my American voice and the humor started flowing.\u201d<\/p>\n
![\"Bishop](\"https:\/\/ca-times.brightspotcdn.com\/dims4\/default\/8337850\/2147483647\/strip\/true\/crop\/7008x4672+0+0\/resize\/320x213!\/format\/webp\/quality\/75\/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fcalifornia-times-brightspot.s3.amazonaws.com%2F17%2Fe0%2Fe9bbc19042278a2e16b65cdea42b%2Fpunchline-sept-29-4.JPG)
<\/picture>\nBishop performing at the Punchline comedy club in San Francisco.<\/p>\n
(Jim Cambridge)<\/p>\n<\/p><\/div>\n<\/figure><\/div>\n
His new special is filled with jokes about his childhood in New York and as a sharp-tongued Gen Xer commenting on the foibles of both his own generation and those of young adults.<\/p>\n
\u201cOn paper nostalgia stuff can seem lazy, but as the comedian Dylan Moran says, there are no hack subjects, only subjects not done well,\u201d Bishop says.<\/p>\n
But that socially conscious kid is still in there \u2014 he talks openly about his testicular cancer to reduce stigma around it and spells out why homophobia is misguided in a lengthy bit about putting pineapple on pizza. As a New Yorker, he was originally horrified by the idea of that unholy union but once he opened his mind to the concept he became a fan.<\/p>\n
\u201cActually, while that bit is about my concerns about homophobia, I really love pineapple on pizza now and so it\u2019s really just propaganda for pineapple on pizza,\u201d he says, only half in jest.<\/p>\n
A political joke about \u201cGrapes of Wrath\u201d and the old days when America\u2019s migrant problem involved Americans is more for him than the crowd. \u201cIt\u2019s pretentious indulgence and I\u2019m making a condescending judgment that half the audience doesn\u2019t have a clue about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Of course, making people laugh remains his main motivation \u201cbut I\u2019m more excited about a bit if I think there\u2019s something more to it,\u201d he says. \u201cPeople are so much more entrenched in their opinions now but I haven\u2019t lost the naive hope that I can get them to think about things differently. And these are the things I want to talk about.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ironically, Bishop\u2019s \u201cAmerican journey\u201d has now taken him back to Ireland, where he\u2019s filming a TV show that he can\u2019t discuss publicly; he did this interview via video from inside his car because a brutal shooting schedule ran long and he was eight minutes from home at our interview time.<\/p>\n