Jim Gaffigan Interview: “The More Flawed a Person Is, the More Interesting and Rewarding It Is to Play Them.”
When you hear that a pale, ginger, chunky, Midwestern American is coming to Spain, you probably have an idea in your mind of what to expect, and I doubt it’s at all positive. Jim Gaffigan, a portly, middle-aged, fair haired Hoosier, and self-confessed “Pale Tourist” (it’s the name of his new stand up tour, after all), is all of the above, but somehow the outcome is not the brash, careless, stereotypical US holiday maker that I know you were all picturing.
Within the first five minutes of my phone conversation in February with the all-conquering US comedian, we’ve discussed the Moors and Al-Andalus, the caganer, the siesta, different types of paella and the history of European colonialism across the Atlantic. He might set himself up as (and indeed look like) your quintessential ignorant American tourist, but in truth, he’s anything but.
On Spain
“I love Spain,” he tells me, beginning our chat with a sentiment that he will repeat five or six times. “I love the culture and the people. I just can’t get enough of it! It’s such an interesting cultural dynamic.”
His misleadingly named “The Pale Tourist” tour, which arrives in Barcelona on February 29, is his second time in the city in as many years, but he hasn’t been napping in between. Gaffigan is near impossible to miss these days: he’s reached that level of Hollywood uber-stardom reserved for top of the top 0.1% of actors. But if you think this means he’s an aloof Beverly Hills A-lister—much as you might jump to conclusions if you saw him wandering lobster red and sweaty around the Sagrada Familia—you’d be wrong. The Gaffigan I chatted with had the manner of a cultivated traveler, interested in the places he goes and keen to learn about the culture while embracing all the eccentricities and absurdities that he notices along the way (and he doesn’t miss a trick).
"It’s also fascinating [being in Spain] from the American perspective, because America is this former colony of the English, and Mexico is a former colony of Spain. So it’s kind of like I’m talking to my friend's dad when I’m in Spain, it’s just a weird thing.” —Jim Gaffigan
Indeed, the quirks and proclivities of the Spanish, and the preconceptions that Americans, Brits and indeed everyone else has about them, dictates much of our conversation. “Well, America is very much an Anglo-Saxon country, so with the cultural differences, what you guys [Brits] find confusing, we find confusing too, like the siesta or the caganer … All culture is kind of strange and peculiar to an outsider, but makes perfect sense to the person from there, you know what I mean?”
I certainly do. Adapting as an extranjero to new Catalan customs, particularly the things that the more prudish end of my reserved British upbringing finds difficult to process, is a constant work in progress. “I just love how the Spanish are always touching you when they are talking to you,” he jokes. “It’s like a strange pre-assault situation. Like, ‘I’m glad my wife isn’t here!’ But it means nothing. I’m intelligent enough to know that this lady I asked directions from is not hitting on me, it’s just a friendly way of telling you where to go. She doesn’t need to touch my arm, but…”
Touchy introductions dissected, we move on to the siesta. “The premise of the siesta is obviously not as relevant as it once was,” he continues, “but it’s such an absurd idea—what’s the logic of it!? It’s like an idea that someone with a hangover would come up with. ‘You know that time after lunch until dinner? What if we just didn’t go back to work?’ And as a country they said, ‘yeah, you know, maybe we should just do that—that’s not a bad idea!’ Their reasoning for the siesta is like, ‘well, you know, lunch is our biggest meal.’ Well, that can change!”
Having Fun with Cultural Differences
Gaffigan tells me that he is adapting the content of his tour in Spain to give the audience a “crash course on some of these cultural differences.” It’s not his main focus in other places on the tour—he’s not sure jokes about the caganer would land particularly well in St. Louis—but while he’s in town, he’ll be getting in as many of his observations about the Spanish as he can, much like he does over the phone to me.
The fun to be had with European cultural differences is a topic that Gaffigan as an American has a particularly interesting perspective on, given the USA, like Mexico, is a child of colonization across the Atlantic. “It’s also fascinating [being in Spain] from the American perspective,” he tells me, “because America is this former colony of the English, and Mexico is a former colony of Spain. So it’s kind of like I’m talking to my friend's dad when I’m in Spain, it’s just a weird thing.”
“Well, America is very much an Anglo-Saxon country, so with the cultural differences, what you guys [Brits] find confusing, we find confusing too, like the siesta or the caganer..."—Jim Gaffigan
Talking to a relation is what much of Gaffigan’s comedy feels like for the audience too. He’s been dubbed the “King of Clean Comedy”: that uncle at Christmas who can’t stop making one-liners out of everything they notice. When I hear the phrase “clean comedy” I wince a little, much as I do when I hear about clean rap or writing. Who wants to hear undaring quips that begin with “have you ever noticed” or “do you remember when…?” However, the difference here is that Gaffigan’s jokes are actually really funny, and not on the dull, Michael McCintyre end of the observational humor spectrum. See his standup shows on Netflix or his litany of appearances on Kimmel, Colbert et al, and his relatable cynicism will no doubt have you in stitches.
But does this relatable part of his act travel well overseas? “Yeah, I mean, part of me knows what will work in Spain,” he says, “just as I know that talking about Canada in border cities in the US will work. Stand up is, so much some of the time, about what you find enthusiastic. There’s not some grand plan of, ‘I’m going to do all this material…’ As long as it’s enough for me to do a couple of shows in Spain and hopefully come back and bring my kids, that’s good enough for me.”
Breaking Out of the Comedy Mold
If you watch Gaffigan’s recent appearances on late-night US talk shows, you will just as likely hear him talking about his dramatic roles as his stand up tours. While he began his career doing stand up in 1990s New York, these days he’s taking on parts in thrillers, indie films and crime dramas too. He tells me about the differences he notices between stand up and acting, revealing again his thoughtful side with an honest Midwestern charm that LA clearly hasn’t sucked out quite yet.
“I would never stop doing standup,” he tells me, “and I love acting, but with acting there are so many things that have to happen for you to get the opportunity to do it. And so, I had a good run with getting acting roles, but I am also a realist. I don't want to do garbage movies, and I can make my living as a stand up, so I'm very much of the opinion that, ‘Ok, I’ll do the right acting roles when they come up, but I’m not going to act in things just to act in things.’ I have friends who make their living as actors, and they have to do roles they're not thrilled about. Luckily, I don't have to deal with that.”
It’s fascinating to hear such honesty about this more trying side of Hollywood from someone so high in the stratosphere of LA fame; you’d assume such worries would be beneath him, but clearly they are not. (It makes you wonder, too, just how much the hundreds of thousands of aspiring actors and comics in the US who are not household names must be struggling.)
"...as an actor you want to play a complex and flawed [character]. The more flawed a person is, the more interesting and rewarding it is to play them.” —Jim Gaffigan
That pickiness with roles necessarily comes from someone who cares deeply about what he does and the craft behind it—the more complex the character the better, he tells me. One of his most recent acting turns was as a family man-turned-kidnapper in the 2019 film American Dreamer, and he has a couple more serious roles coming up this year, like in the forthcoming Tesla, alongside Ethan Hawke, and another go as a gun-toting criminal in the Daniel Roby directed Thai-prison thriller, Target Number One.
I ask him whether this move into dramatic territory was a deliberate, calculated choice? “That’s all about getting the most interesting role,” he replies. “You know, I’ve worked on things like That ‘70s Show, and I had my own show for a while too. They’re fun, but with the dramatic roles, particularly indies, it's very much a collaboration with the directors and the writers where you can bring ideas. In a dramatic piece, you can kind of flesh out and build a stronger complex relationship which will make it more interesting for the audience.”
“I still love comedies,” he butts in quickly, “but as an actor you want to play a complex and flawed [character]. The more flawed a person is, the more interesting and rewarding it is to play them.”
The difficulty of breaking into more serious realms is something Gaffigan remembers too, especially given Hollywood still has a culture where how you are originally perceived is how you remain in the minds of those at the top. “The reality,” he sighs, “is that the entertainment industry is the perception business. So once I gained some success in comedy, I was perceived as a comedian solely. And look, there are worse things in the world, but that maybe inhibited some of the opportunities that I got in terms of dramatic roles. And then also you factor in that the entertainment industry would love everybody to look like Brad Pitt... So it’s just the opportunities that are presented to you. If you are perceived in a certain way, people like to stay in that perception of you.”
Being outside the Hollywood bubble as we are in here in Barcelona—thank God—I don’t think there are likely to be any negative perceptions of Gaffigan when he comes to play (unless you’re a huge fan of snails in Valencian paella, that is: “What are you doing? No, I’m not eating those!” was his reaction to the news). And that remains true, even if his considered, genial manner is at odds with the cynic he portrays in standup mode. I’d bear that difference in character in mind when he struts onto the stage, all milk white skin, orange hair and brow mischievously furrowed, ready to poke fun and pull apart the absurdities of Spanish culture. Rudeness it is not; comedy it most certainly is.
Harry Stott is a regular contributor to the Barcelona Metropolitan covering Brexit, local political and social issues as well as the music scene. He recently received a B.A. in music from the University of Leeds, and now writes and produces radio content for a number of organizations in Barcelona and beyond. You can read more of Harry's articles here.