David Wain on the Effort Involved in Creating Silly Jokes

      If, as Lou Reed remarked, writing about music is akin to trying to dance about architecture, then writing about comedy could be… let’s imagine a terrible metaphor that, despite its flaws, humorously captures the essence of this endeavor. I can’t come up with one myself since I’m not as witty as David Wain, whose influence on 21st-century American comedy, while not as pronounced as that of Judd Apatow or Tim Heidecker, is undoubtedly bolder than the former and just as transformative as the latter. Throughout this, he shares comedic talent with both; yet everyone involved in a David Wain project, whether a member of The State or a major Hollywood star, emerges seeming funnier and more courageous. Meanwhile, the broader comedy landscape hasn't quite caught up.

      Wain’s first feature in eight years, "Gail Daughtry and the Celebrity Sex Pass," is crafted from that mixture: this film would lack a core without the just-surreal-enough script by Wain and Ken Marino, but that script wouldn’t work without Zoey Deutch’s charmingly naive portrayal, supported by a cast including Marino, along with a self-mocking John Slattery and Jon Hamm. Remove any element, and the film (as it often threatens to) risks completely deflating; rather, its blending of recognizable tropes into absurdity (and vice versa) yields great enjoyment.

      Having appreciated Wain’s work for the majority of my life, it was a significant moment to converse with him about such a rich comedic vocabulary.

      The Film Stage: I’ve been a fan of yours for practically my entire life. I remember watching "Stella" on Comedy Central when I was 12; now I'm 33.

      David Wain: So what you’re saying is that I’m old.

      Not at all! If anything, you look fantastic. I'm thrilled that you’re still creating, because while comedy's values and ideas change, you always seem to be a few steps ahead. Partly because I struggle to clearly define your style. I can pinpoint a Wainian humor in a lineup, yet some films—like "They Came Together"—exude a distinct parodic, satirical quality. You can also deliver straight comedy in works like "Role Models" or "Wanderlust." Other times, you operate between those two extremes; "Wet Hot American Summer" and "Gail Daughtry" might fit into that category. Do you think of your films in this way, as part of a continuum?

      Yes, I do. When trying to get something made, people often ask, “What is this?” And I respond, “It’s not as mainstream as this, but it’s not a straight parody like 'They Came Together.'" I don’t consider "Wet Hot American Summer" a spoof at all. Some people say, “Oh, you’re spoofing all those summer camp movies,” but to me, it’s simply a film grounded in actual summer camp experiences, and it’s funny. That’s how Mike Showalter and I viewed it while writing: "It’s summer camp; let’s make it funny in the way we find things amusing."

      I think we approached this film similarly. There’s definitely a sort of continuum—The Ten occupies its own unique space—but, more than anything, we’re just focused day-to-day from the writing phase through post-production on what feels funny and right to us in terms of tone.

      And in your response, it makes me think that perhaps it’s less about adhering to a genre and more about a specific kind of iconography.

      Mmm.

      For me, one of the funniest moments is Joe Lo Truglio getting submerged in the soup. It hints at a pastiche of the classic mob-murder scene, with fingers rapidly playing the piano as a counterpoint to the violent action.

      Right.

      It’s a humorous scenario on its own, but it’s even more amusing due to its immediate recognition.

      Absolutely. We often discussed—even back to The State—that sometimes the humor lies in simply executing the idea. Sometimes the funniest thing is just to engage with a trope without commenting on it.

      Playing it straight is often funnier than slapstick, right? I rewatched a few episodes of "Stella" last night to get in the mood for this.

      [Laughs]

      I was astounded at how often the humor on the show, and throughout much of your work… unfortunately, words escape me right now as I sit here talking to you, but it’s the presentation that’s hilarious. The expression on Bob Feldman’s face when you shoot Michael Ian Black, realizing he’s completed the task—it’s not exactly a traditional joke. I feel like I’m Chris Farley speaking to Paul McCartney, just trying to describe…

      No, but I think what you’re touching on is something that some people don’t understand about our work, which is: