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Demetri Martin, Live and In 'Person'

Comedian Demetri Martin is probably best known for his appearances on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. He's also written for Late Night with Conan O'Brien, for which he garnered an Emmy nomination.

He's released a DVD called Person — a version of his one-hour Comedy Central special, which aired earlier this year.

21:21

Other segments from the episode on September 24, 2007

Fresh Air with Terry Gross, September 24, 2007: Interview with Demitri Martin; Interview with Anthony Anderson.

Transcript

DATE September 24, 2007 ACCOUNT NUMBER N/A
TIME 12:00 Noon-1:00 PM AUDIENCE N/A
NETWORK NPR
PROGRAM Fresh Air

Interview: Demetri Martin, stand-up comic and contributor to
"The Daily Show," on how his fascination with puzzles led to
a fascination with comedy, law school and shish kabobs
TERRY GROSS, host:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross. My guest, Demetri Martin, is a stand-up
comic and a contributor to "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart."

(Soundbite of "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart")

(Soundbite of applause)

Mr. JON STEWART: Young people, they're more than the future. They are our
target demographic. But when we want to learn more about them, we turn to our
own Demetri Martin and Trend Spotting.

(Soundbite of shouts, applause)

(Soundbite of music)

Unidentified Man: (Singing) Trends.

(End of soundbite)

GROSS: Martin started contributing to the "Daily Show" in 2005. In 2004,
Entertainment Weekly named him one of the 25 Funniest People in America.
Earlier this year he had a special on "Comedy Central" called "Demetri Martin,
Person." It just came out on DVD. We'll hear an excerpt a little later.
Right now let's hear him in action on "The Daily Show." In his role as trend
spotter, he did a report on life coaches, counselors who help you solve
problems and help you get where you want to go in life. When Martin's report
was over, he sat down with Jon Stewart.

(Soundbite of "The Daily Show with Jon Stewart")

Mr. STEWART: Obviously, it's a fascinating trend, Demetri. Is there a way
for someone at home to know if they themselves need a coach?

Mr. DEMETRI MARTIN: Well, recently I came up with one. Before that there
wasn't.

Mr. STEWART: Mm-hmm.

Mr. MARTIN: But I took the time to create the life of satisfaction
expectation ratio.

Mr. STEWART: Mm-hmm.

Mr. MARTIN: Which is hard to say but the acronym is easy. It's L-O-S-E-R.
"Low-ser." Currently it's the only tool available to calculate one's need for
a life coach. And it's easy. You can do it at home. You just take the age
you were when you moved out of your parents' house, multiply it by the age you
lost your virginity, plus the square root of your monthly income, divided by
the number of cats you have, plus one.

Mr. STEWART: And what number would you get that would indicate that you
needed a coach or...

Mr. MARTIN: If you were a "low-ser"?

Mr. STEWART: Yes.

(Soundbite of laughter)

Mr. MARTIN: Well, there's no answer per se, but if you bothered copying down
the equation, you need one.

(Soundbite of laughter)

(End of soundbite)

GROSS: Demetri Martin, welcome to FRESH AIR. You have a new DVD of a one man
comedy show that you did on "Comedy Central"...

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah.

GROSS: ...and it's called "Demetri Martin, Person."

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah.

GROSS: And in your stand-up comedy you do a lot of like observational
one-liners.

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah.

GROSS: You know, one or two lines about something that you find like a little
ridiculous or absurd, then you move onto another observation. And these are
about absurdities in life or in language. Why do you gravitate to that kind
of humor as opposed to like the long story?

Mr. MARTIN: Well, when I was younger, a lot of my friends were comedians.
It seemed that when they were young, when they were kids, they were comedy
nerds. They had a lot of comedy albums and they knew a lot about comedy, say
"2,000 Year Old Man" or something like that. I don't know how much I was a
comedy nerd. I think I was just a standard nerd. I think I was just a kind
of straight-up nerd. For me, my interests were more like brain teasers,
which, you know, obviously the coolest thing to admit. But I liked, you know,
puzzle books and that kind of stuff and just taking a pen, you know, and
trying to figure out some weird Mensa's thing or something like that. So I
was aware of comedy, I liked comedy, liked joking around, all that kind of
stuff as a kid, but I never thought of that as an endpoint or a place to spend
my time. That seemed like just a side thing or a way to relate to people. My
focus, besides from, say, break-dancing, was puzzles, trying to solve puzzles.
Then...

GROSS: That's what all the hip-hop guys say. That, in addition to
break-dancing...

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah. It's very similar.

GROSS: ...they like puzzles.

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah. My comedy's very similar to gangster rap. There's a lack
of helping verbs. Some awareness of jewelry, whether in public or private.
And toughness. I mean, you got to be tough to be a comedian.

GROSS: Let's hear an excerpt of your new DVD. And this is a DVD of your
stand-up show that was on Comedy Central. So as we're about to hear, Demetri
Martin often performs comedy backing it up with a guitar or a piano or a
guitar and harmonica, you know, as if he was singing but what he's really
doing is stand-up. So let's hear part of that like instrumental with comedy
part of his show.

Mr. MARTIN: Uh-oh.

(Soundbite of "Demetri Martin, Person")

(Soundbite of guitar)

Mr. MARTIN: There's a store in my neighborhood called Futon World. I love
that name. Futon World. Makes me think of a magical place that becomes less
comfortable over time.

(Soundbite of laughter)

(Soundbite of harmonica)

Mr. MARTIN: Whenever I use my computer, I don't type LOL, I type LQTM.
Laugh quietly to myself.

(Soundbite of laughter)

Mr. MARTIN: It's more honest. By the way, if you want to sound like a
creep, just add the word "ladies" to the end of things that you say. You
sound like a creep. It could be harmless, too. Like, thanks for coming to my
show, ladies.

(Soundbite of laughter)

Mr. MARTIN: Help, I've fallen into a well and I'm trapped, ladies. It's
like a jacuzzi with really high walls. You know you want it. Went into this
clothing store. The lady working there got mad at me, `What size are you?' I
said, `Actual.'

This ain't a trick, baby. She was amazing. I never met a woman like her
before. She showed me to the dressing room. She said, `If you need anything,
I'm Jill.' I said, `Oh my God, I never met a woman before with a conditional
identity. What if I don't need anything, who are you? If you don't need
anything, I'm Mike.'

(Soundbite of guitar)

(End of soundbite)

GROSS: That's Demetri Martin from his new DVD of his "Comedy Central" show
and Demetri Martin is also a correspondent for "The Daily Show."

I really like that "ladies" bit. How did you realize that anything you say is
going to say particularly smarmy if you end it with "ladies"?

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah, I don't know. I just know the tone of that word. It's
just funny. Just--ladies. That just popped to me. And it's funny because a
lot of my jokes, I don't think I often come from hearing something and then it
becomes a joke. Because it's usually just looking at an object, and then it's
just some turning it around in my head, and then like, `oh, there's the joke.'
But that one, it just, yeah, it just lent itself to that. Nice structure,
too. You could do endless examples, just by saying "ladies." It just kind of
gives you--it's a shortcut.

GROSS: There's one on your CD where you wonder what if you said "sort of"
after every sentence, how that--after some things, that's OK, but after other
things, it's really horrible. Can you give us some examples of that and tell
us how you thought of it?

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah, that one--the original version of that joke was "sort of"
is just a harmless thing to say. It's just a filler. And that must have been
from a substitute teacher, somebody who'd always just say, `It's sort of you
know, this, that, sort of. You know, if we could sort of'--and I just
thought, you don't need sort of. It's not doing anything there. And I
thought, `Wait a minute. If it's at the end, you know, then it can mean
everything.' Like, `I love you, sort of.' You know, that's different. Or,
`You're going to live.' Or, `It's a boy.' That's where sort of--yeah, that's
going to be more of an impact.

And I also have that other joke about if you start a sentence with the word
"dude," I wondered what was the most intelligent thing ever said was that
started with the word dude. Yeah. And I think that joke goes something like
this. Dude, these are isotopes. Or, dude, you're going to live. Good news.
We removed your kidney. You're going to be fine. I mean, the end of that one
was, Dude, I am so stoked to accept this Nobel Prize. I just want to thank
all my homeys.

GROSS: So you really do work these out as puzzles? You kind of think of,
like, what would make this ridiculous?

Mr. MARTIN: I think so, yes. Sometimes there's more intention when I'm
working on it. I remember, I tried to write a joke about revolving doors for
like two years or something. I just--sometimes I see something and I go, I
know that's funny. To me there's something funny about revolving doors. I
just don't know what the words are for it, but it feels funny to me. And then
I'll work on it and then eventually it might emerge as a joke. I have a list
of things that just--I am convinced are funny, but I haven't figured out how.
Then of course others things are just an improv or just floats into your head
and it's funny immediately.

GROSS: Do you have lists of things in your pockets now?

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah, I have like sometimes on a receipt there'll be a joke
or--I woke up--the other day I was cleaning my apartment and I find little
slips of paper that just have jokes on them that I wrote in the moment that I
was somewhere and I thought, `Ooh, that's funny.' And then I find them later
and it's just like this weird unfunny fairy is leaving me messages around the
apartment or something. I'm going in my room the other day, I was cleaning
and said, `A stalker is like a private investigator who no one has hired,' or
something like that. It's was like between my bed and like this bureau, and I
was cleaning, and I found a piece of a paper and it was like a weird message
to myself. It was like an unwise wise man leaving me notes, a failed fortune
cookie writer who's leaving things around my apartment.

GROSS: So what did you do?

Mr. MARTIN: But it is funny because...

GROSS: Did you put it in your trash or in your act?

Mr. MARTIN: No. I have these folders. I have these red manila folders that
are just, you know, if I'm really blocked I can just go dig through it and
say, `Oh, you know what? That's not funny, but I think I know what I was
trying to do. That could be funny.' And then I go try it--put it in my list
and try it that night. And then it's not funny. OK, it's not funny.

GROSS: Now, you'd been a law student before becoming a comic. Yale Law
School, was it?

Mr. MARTIN: No, I went to Yale for college and then I went to NYU Law School
for law school.

GROSS: Mm-hmm. And it was toward the end of law school that you realized,
`Oh, I don't want to do this. I think I'll try comedy.'

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah. I dropped out--I did two years out of the three and then
I left. Because it's a better story.

GROSS: Why did it take you that long to realize, and did you feel so invested
already, both financially and just in terms of like your whole mental state
and your time, was it really hard after making that investment to say,
`Mistake. I'm leaving'?

Mr. MARTIN: The interesting thing was I had a full scholarship. I turned
down a couple of other schools because I got money at NYU. And at the
time--my girlfriend at that time was going to medical school in New York. So
then chance was we could be together and I wouldn't have to pay for law
school. So I went for it.

When I got there, like a month in, I realized `uh-oh. This is boring. I
don't like this.' I'm talking about the one month in, the first year, I kind
of had that revelation. But I think I was so entrenched in my life plan and
my idea, `Hey, I'm going to be a lawyer.' I'm talking like from the seventh
grade. Just after break-dancing, I decided I was going to be a lawyer. Like
it wasn't--that spot in my timeline--literally, I'm telling you, I just
realized, oh, you know what? It was like a to-do list. Oh yeah, career?
Corporate lawyer, sounds great. Done. Never worried about it again. Went
straight, you know, high school, college, LSATs, got in there, got the
scholarship.

And then when I finally realized, I don't like what I'm doing each day, I had
no other plan or, I guess, like, version of myself that wasn't a lawyer, so it
took me that long. I was a White House intern after that first year. So I
thought, oh maybe politics or government or something. But that wasn't for me
either.

GROSS: So when you realized that a legal career was going to be boring for
you...

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah.

GROSS: ...after all this planning, it wasn't right for you after all, what
made you think you could be a comic?

Mr. MARTIN: Well, I remember doing some very specific soul searching and
thinking, OK, I don't like--I'm dreading each day when I go to school. Not
because it's too hard, it's just no passion. I'm just not excited about what
I'm doing. It's like, I think I'm too young to be feeling this way already.
Something's wrong. So I just did like little thought experiments. And I
thought, OK, forget about money, status, or what anyone thinks about me. When
I wake up in the morning, what activities would I look forward to doing? You
know what I mean? Just what physically could I spend my time on that I get
excited about?

Second part of that, how do I get money for that? If I could figure out those
two things, then I'm set because then I'll just do the activities that I like
and then I have money so I could have a house and food and stuff, you know.
And I thought, what do I like doing? I like joking around with my friends.
OK, I guess comedian. And that was the beginning of that, and I just thought,
OK, I guess I can't be in law school anymore because then I won't be able
to--I can't do both. So I dropped out. Also, NYU Law School is adjacent to
one comedy club and across the street, basically, from another.

GROSS: Did you play there?

Mr. MARTIN: So I was walking by comedy clubs every day.

GROSS: Did you play those clubs?

Mr. MARTIN: My first set I ever did was across the street from the law
school. The summer--I dropped out in the spring and then that summer I got on
stage for the first time.

GROSS: What'd you do?

Mr. MARTIN: I did 12 jokes and I--my...

GROSS: Tell us one or two of them.

Mr. MARTIN: OK. I think I can remember some of them. This was 10 years
ago. I started on Bastille Day of '97. OK. Twelve jokes my first night. My
goal was to get a laugh, one real laugh from one of my jokes. That would be
the sign, yes, you can do it, Demetri. By the way, I booked two nights in a
row. Monday was my first night, and Tuesday was going to be in another room.
Monday, I go up. Twelve jokes. I had jokes like, one of them was--they were
pretty complicated. I think one of them was this. I made a deodorant that
smells like my friend Jim. It's called Jim. Sometimes I wear it and I hang
out with his blind friend Jerry. And Jerry thinks he's with Jim. Sometimes I
wear my Jerry deodorant, and Jerry thinks he's alone. That was my first
night.

GROSS: Did that get a laugh?

Mr. MARTIN: I think that one got a laugh. Then I had a joke about--because
this is a while ago, I had a joke about I don't prank call people anymore.
That's too old school. What I do now is I prank people on their beepers. But
then it's difficult because then they call me and I have to answer the phone
in a threatening way. You know, it's this whole thing, it's really
complicated. But, I got--what happened was I got laughs on six of the jokes.
I got laughs on half the jokes.

GROSS: Mm-hmm.

Mr. MARTIN: I wish I could remember more of them. I lost the tape. I taped
it, but I don't know where those jokes are anymore. I think the first night I
might have done the joke about: I was riding an escalator and I tripped. I
fell down the stairs for an hour and a half. That joke held. I did that in
the first special. That was one of those that kind of lived on, you know. A
couple were good enough. Most of them weren't.

There was a joke about being bad at lying, but it wasn't that I was bad at
telling the lies, I was bad at picking the topics that I lied about. So
somebody would say, you know, `What time is it?' `Four-thirty.' OK. You know,
I don't know why I'm--I have this cool interview with you here and I'm just
doing the worst jokes I ever wrote. You guys can really make me look way less
funny than I'd like to.

GROSS: My guest is Demetri Martin. His "Comedy Central" special has just
come out on DVD. We'll talk more after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(Announcements)

GROSS: My guest is Demetri Martin. He's a contributor to "The Daily Show."
He's the trend spotter and youth correspondent. His "Comedy Central" special
has just come out on DVD.

Let's talk about your past a little bit. Your father was a Greek Orthodox
priest?

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah.

GROSS: So you went to church a lot?

Mr. MARTIN: I went to church a lot, every Sunday, and I was an altar boy
from very young until I went to college. I was actually head altar boy. And
that might have been because my dad was the priest but I think I had pretty
good skills as well and probably earned it. But I was, yeah, I was the top
altar boy, I would say, probably, in my county.

GROSS: What were your father's sermons like?

Mr. MARTIN: My father was funny. He was really funny. He loved Bill Cosby.
He loved "Saturday Night Live," Peter Sellers. "Pink Panther" was a big part
of my childhood. We used to watch the "Pink Panther" movies. His sermons, in
retrospect, I realize, they were like 20 minute sets. It was like him doing
20 minutes for an audience. Anecdotal, very personal and just really funny.
And it was never doctrinal, and he spoke extemporaneously. There were no
notes. He didn't read his sermon or have this big prepared thing. He'd have
a couple of ideas, jot it down on an envelope or something I'd see up there on
the pulpit. And then he would just go. He would just kind of talk. He would
just find these jokes, you know.

GROSS: Do you still go to church? Do you still practice?

Mr. MARTIN: I haven't been to church in a while. I'm not such a good Greek
Orthodox churchgoer anymore. Maybe because a lot of times I'm traveling. I
don't know. I don't know why. I guess I just kind of drifted. I don't know
how much I've questioned my faith or any of that kind of stuff. I just feel
like I got busy, and fart jokes take a lot of time, you know. Working around
the clock.

But I liked growing up in the church. I think it was a good place. My dad
just had a really good style. Just something about putting your heart out
there. People just--if you can be authentic, I think it just goes a lot way
with people, whether it's in a church or on a stage or anywhere.

GROSS: So do you think of yourself as a comic that's trying to be authentic
in the way that your father was as a priest?

Mr. MARTIN: I think it took me a long time to realize that, but yes,
definitely. That's what I liked about his comedy, as a person.

GROSS: Mm-hmm.

Mr. MARTIN: It wasn't very derisive. He wasn't--there's not a lot of venom
in him. He just--there was a sweetness to the way he approached things.
That's just who he was.

GROSS: So your father was a priest, but your family also had a restaurant, a
diner?

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah. We started with a Greek food stand called Shorty's
Shish-Kabab at the Jersey Shore, because my grandfather is just about five
feet, or was just about five feet tall. And that was a seasonal business
where we sold shish kabob and gyros at the boardwalk. We had that for a bunch
of years, and then my parents took all their life's savings and they got a
diner, and so then we had a Greek diner that we still have with my uncles and
my uncle and my grandparents and stuff.

GROSS: Was this by the shore?

Mr. MARTIN: The stand, Shorty's Shish-Kabob, was on the boardwalk, right
next to the beach. And then the Sandcastle is the name of the diner, and
that's like six miles from the beach.

GROSS: Oh, so it must have been great as kid to have, you know, a family-run
food stall on the beach. What a great excuse to be on the beach a lot.

Mr. MARTIN: In theory, except they made me work there from age 11. I had to
work at Shorty's in a windowless basement. I'm right next to the beach and
I'm in a basement with my grandfather. My job was to skewer shish kabob.
Fifty cents an hour.

GROSS: Wow.

Mr. MARTIN: They paid me 50 cents an hour, and I had to--you have to take
this meat out of this like lemony--your hands get all, you know, corroded or
whatever, and then you have to--I had to put meat on metal sticks for 50 cents
an hour. And I was a bad worker. Every hour I asked for my 50 cents at the
end of the hour and I'd go and try to win a watch. You know those things that
like the thing turns around and you try to get a watch? So I would want like
immediate gratification. I was like, I want my 50 cents to work for me.

GROSS: So every hour you'd earn 50 cents the hard way and then lose it?

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah. I'd go run and try to win a watch.

GROSS: So you never had any money at the end?

Mr. MARTIN: Yeah, I'd never have any money at the end. But it was fun being
at the boardwalk because I loved--that was the skateboarding, surfing, all
that kind of stuff, and so I had my surfboard in the basement. I'm skewering
shish kabob and my surfboard's right next to me and I'm thinking, oh, as soon
as I'm done I can go surf. I'm at the beach. So that was pretty cool.

Then working at the diner, it was the same thing. Bus boy, against my will.
Waiter. Host. But that's where the puzzle books came in. I used to just
bring puzzle books to work and just walk around thinking about puzzles and
stuff, and eventually that became jokes, I think.

GROSS: And how many pieces of meat can sit on a skewer?

Mr. MARTIN: I think it was five, with vegetables in between.

GROSS: So one more thing. Since you're a former law student, an almost
lawyer, can you actually understand your own contract?

Mr. MARTIN: Pretty much. Two thirds of them, because I only went to law
school for two years.

GROSS: Well, Demetri Martin, thanks a lot for talking with us.

Mr. MARTIN: Thanks for having me.

GROSS: Demetri Martin is a contributor to "The Daily Show." His "Comedy
Central" special has just come out on DVD. I'm Terry Gross, and this is FRESH
AIR.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Interview: Anthony Anderson, star of "K-Ville," on working on the
show, finishing up working on "The Shield," and the transition
from comedic roles to more serious ones
TERRY GROSS, host:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross. My guest, Anthony Anderson, is the star
of the new Fox series "K-Ville," which will feature its second episode
tonight. Anderson plays a cop in New Orleans two years after Hurricane
Katrina protecting those who still live in the city. It's shot on location.
His role as--his role as--excuse me, his role as Marlin Boulet, a member of
the Felony Action Squad, is quite a departure from his role on the cop series
"The Shield," as Antwon Mitchell, a brutal gang leader and heroin dealer.
Anderson's recent movies include "Transformers," "Hustle & Flow," and "The
Departed." He's also been in a lot of comedies, like "Me, Myself & Irene,"
"Barbershop," and "Malibu's Most Wanted."

Let's start with a scene from "K-Ville." During the hurricane, Boulet's
partner got scared and abandoned him. Boulet's new partner, played by Cole
Hauser, is new to the force and claims to be new to New Orleans. But Boulet
gets a little suspicious of that claim after a chase in which his partner
seems to know his way around the city. So Boulet confronts him.

(Soundbite of "K-Ville")

Mr. ANTHONY ANDERSON: (As Marlin Boulet) I should have known when you told
me to take the neutral ground.

Mr. COLE HAUSER: (As Trevor Cobb) What?

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Marlin Boulet) Just yesterday? At the Quarter? I drew
that map for you on the ground. You knew this city.

Mr. HAUSER: (As Trevor Cobb) Yeah, so what?

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Marlin Boulet) Look up. What do you see, huh?

Mr. HAUSER: (As Trevor Cobb) I see the sky, the sun.

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Marlin Boulet) Yeah. See the street signs?

Mr. HAUSER: (As Trevor Cobb) What?

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Marlin Boulet) See the punks around here, they steal them
to confuse the cops. They look at you, man from Cincinnati, driving
the...(unintelligible)...and asking no directions.

Mr. HAUSER: (As Trevor Cobb) I've been there, Boulet. Now, what the hell's
gotten in to you?

(Soundbite of gun cocking?

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Marlin Boulet) You lie again, I swear to God I'll cuff you
before you see even my hands. Who are you, Cobb? What's your angle?

Mr. HAUSER: (As Trevor Cobb) It's not my problem that your last partner
deserted you. Now, you're paranoid and you're cracking up.

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Marlin Boulet) How do you know these streets, then?

Mr. HAUSER: (As Trevor Cobb) I did my basic training in Fort Polk in
Leesville, you idiot. And I came down here all the time. Now put your gun
down. You ever do that again, and one of us ain't walking away.

(End of soundbite)

GROSS: Cole Hauser and my guest, Anthony Anderson, in a scene from the new
Fox series "K-Ville."

Anthony Anderson, a pleasure to have you. Welcome to FRESH AIR. Would you
describe your character in K-Ville?

Mr. ANDERSON: Oh, Marlin Boulet. Very conflicted. He's not a by-the-books
kind of officer. You know, he's the kind of officer that you want on your
police force protecting your streets. But, you know, I do have my vices. I
drink on the job. Given the circumstances and everything that, you know, I
went through in the last couple of years with Hurricane Katrina coming through
and decimating our city and, you know, even though the story's two years
later, still dealing with the abandonment of my partner leaving me. Still
have abandonment issues because my wife and my daughter have left him and
relocated to Atlanta now. So, you know, just dealing with that and trying to
rebuild our community, rebuild our city and literally rebuild our home.

GROSS: What are some of the neighborhoods and locations that you're shooting
in in New Orleans?

Mr. ANDERSON: You know, we're all over New Orleans. We're in the Lower
Ninth Ward, which was completed decimated by the storm. Upper Nine, you know,
we're in the French Quarter. You know, we're all over the city of New
Orleans. New Orleans isn't just a backdrop for our television show. New
Orleans is actually a character, an essential, integral part of our show. So
we're all over the place. And you know, we really couldn't cheat this on the
backlot, you know, on a soundstage someplace. It would be doing a disservice
to the show, but more importantly it would be doing a disservice to the people
of New Orleans and what their rebuilding efforts are. So we have to be there
and we're all over, in every nook and cranny.

GROSS: Are you finding the city to be as dangerous as depicted on the pilot?

Mr. ANDERSON: Ha! It can be. You know, another thing that I've done and
that I do on a continual basis, I roll with SWAT on ride-alongs in the middle
of the night. And, you know, you really get to see the city, you know,
unveiled. You know, there's nothing like riding along with a SWAT team during
a midnight raid, you know, 2 AM serving high-risk felony warrants in some of
the worst projects in the city with MP3, MP4 assault rifles and concussion
grenades and full-body armor. You know, to witness that firsthand is
unbelievable.

GROSS: Have there been times when you were out with the SWAT team and the
people they were about to arrest recognized you from one of your movies or
recognized you as the heavy, Antwon Mitchell, from "The Shield"?

Mr. ANDERSON: Oh yeah. They were--it was 1 AM We got a call that, you know,
this was a narcotics house, and so SWAT rolls there. They secure the
perimeter, the whole block, and they move in. And it actually just happened
to be a crack den. So they pulled out 11 addicts, handcuffed them to one
another around the Suburban. And, you know, SWAT is surrounding them and, you
know, they're all tweaking, and one guy looks over and I know he's really
tweaking now, and he's looking at me and he's like, `Oh!Oh!Oh! Damn!
That's Kangaroo Jack!That's Kangaroo Jack!Oh, man! You done made my
night! You've made my night!'

I was like, `Brother, you're handcuffed to 10 other crackheads surrounded by
SWAT with assault rifles about to go down, and you're telling me you want my
autograph and I've made your night?' He was like, `Oh, yeah, man! Yeah!' And
I was like, OK. OK. So that was one of the lighter moments of rolling around
with SWAT.

GROSS: My guest is Anthony Anderson. He stars in the new Fox series
"K-Ville." We'll talk more after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(Announcements)

GROSS: My guest is Anthony Anderson. After playing a gang leader and heroin
dealer on the cop series "The Shield," he's now playing a cop in New Orleans
on the new Fox series "K-Ville."

What was it like for you going from being like a really cold, mean character
on "The Shield"--you know, you're not only a heroin dealer, a big heroin
dealer, but you're the head of this really violent gang, you know, in LA.

Mr. ANDERSON: Mm-hmm.

GROSS: You were on "The Shield." Now you're in prison. So what was it like,
going from being a character like that, who's always at odds with the police
to being a cop on your new series "K-Ville"?

Mr. ANDERSON: You know, I loved it. I love the dichotomy of it. You know,
being on one extreme and taking it to the other. Both characters are similar,
in my opinion. I mean, you know, Antwon Mitchell felt this is all he--this is
the hand that he was dealt, and he played it as best he could. And, you know,
in his mind's eye, yeah, he was a heroin dealer and, you know, the head of
this gang, this cartel or whatever you want to call it, but he was also doing
great things in the community. You know, building community centers and
bringing computers into these community centers for inner-city youth for them
to, you know, better themselves. And he didn't really preach, not
necessarily, follow him in his footsteps but, you know, this was his way of
giving back. This was his atonement for, I believe, for what, you know, he
was doing in the neighborhood.

GROSS: In your description of Antwon, I don't think you sufficiently gave him
credit for how like violent and just really cold he is when he feels that
somebody is his enemy, and to demonstrate that, I want to play a scene from
"The Shield."

Mr. ANDERSON: OK.

GROSS: So here's Antwon Mitchell. You had a gang called the One Niners...

Mr. ANDERSON: Mm-hmm.

GROSS: ...and you've been dealing tar heroin. You've made a deal with a cop
named Shane and his partner...

Mr. ANDERSON: Mm-hmm.

GROSS: These cops are getting a take of your money in return for protecting
you, but a big stash that you were hiding in the church was busted, and you
think that Shane informed on you, and now you intend on letting him know that
you're the one that has the power. So Shane speaks first. He's played by
Walton Goggins.

(Soundbite of "The Shield")

Mr. WALTON GOGGINS: (As Shane) Look, they may have grabbed your...(word
censored by station)...but the investigation is sealed off. No roads lead
back to you. You should say thank you, Antwon.

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Antwon Mitchell) Do you know how much you cost me today,
huh? In product and in manpower? Do you?

Mr. GOGGINS: (As Shane) If you'd kept me in the loop on your tar castle,
then maybe I could have kept an eye out for you, homey.

(Soundbite of punching and grunts)

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Antwon Mitchell) Grab his piece! Grab his piece!
(Unintelligible)...that gun. Payback...(word censored by station)!

(Soundbite of punching, groaning)

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Antwon Mitchell) I don't get played and I ain't your
homey.

Mr. GOGGINS: (As Shane) Oh, man, you...

(Soundbite of punch)

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Antwon Mitchell) Shut up! You knew they were taking down
my...(word censored by station). My nigger saw you faggots on the goddammed
raid, so why you trying to tell me now there was nothing that you could do?
Huh? You think you was ever making the moves around me?

(Soundbite of gun being cocked)

Mr. ANDERSON: (As Antwon Mitchell) You're not stupid enough to bring that
kind of heat down on your ass.

(End of soundbite)

GROSS: That's my guest, Anthony Anderson, and Walton Goggins in a scene from
"The Shield" and I should mention to our listeners that you're not actually
meting out the blows in this. You're not the one beating up the two cops.
Your boys are doing that, but you're watching and directing them...

Mr. ANDERSON: Yeah.

GROSS: ...as they do it. What did you do to play somebody like this? What
did you get in touch with in yourself, or what did you remember from people
who you might have known in the past?

Mr. ANDERSON: That's exactly what I did. You know, I'm from Compton,
California, grew up in the inner city and knew characters like Antwon
Mitchell, who basically did what he did. They were running the streets, but
yet they saw it in themselves to mentor, if you will, to kids like me. It was
like, `You know what, Anthony? You shouldn't be out here doing this.' You
know? `And because I'm telling you that this is what I'm going to help the
neighborhood do.' You know, they set up programs in the city parks. They set
up community centers. I knew Antwon Mitchells, you know. So I pulled on
that, you know. An actor who I've met and never had the chance to work with,
Idris Elba, I liked what he did with his character Stringer Bell on "The
Wire," and I just looked at how he worked and how he maneuvered as that
character and took bits and pieces from that and just married it with, you
know, my own ideas, you know?

And the things that you heard, you know, from the excerpt of "The Shield" that
you just played just now and what it ultimately did, you know, Antwon
Mitchell, actually, you know, shot someone later on in that scene and...

GROSS: A teenage girl...

Mr. ANDERSON: Yeah.

GROSS: ...who informed on him and he's going to pay back.

Mr. ANDERSON: Yeah, and you know, even though I did--you know, that
character did do that--a heinous crime like that, you know, it, for him, it
was really the cost of doing business, you know. That's how he rationalized
these things. That's how I portrayed him. You know, it's not that he wanted
to kill this person, but he had to. This was the cost of doing business.
And, you know, I tried to, you know, I tried to, you know, humanize him as
much as I could, you know, given the situations and who he is and what he did,
but, you know, what he did, it was just par for the course. But he was a bad
man. Antwon Mitchell was a bad man.

GROSS: So you said that you knew people like him who tried to like mentor
some of the young people in the community. So what was your relationship with
one of the people who you would compare to Antwon?

Mr. ANDERSON: You know, these were, you know, these were just, you know,
older, you know, kids and older men in our neighborhood, you know, that we
grew up--who may have been five, 10 years our senior and, you know, you can
decide to go left or decide to go right at an early age, you know, for good or
bad, and you know, the decisions and the choices are up to you, you know. My
mother and father instilled in me what right and wrong was, and I know what
path I didn't want to go down. Because, ultimately, I knew it could only end
me up behind bars or six feet under, and that's not the route that I wanted to
take because all of that would happen at a very early age.

And you know, guys like Antwon Mitchell, you know, knew who the weak, if you
will, or the strong, if you will, in the neighbored were, and they were like,
`OK, look, you're not built for this. You know, this isn't the life for you.'
You know, they admired and respected me because I've always wanted to be an
actor since I was nine years old. This was my dream. So around the
neighborhood, I was the actor to them. So, you know, they did everything that
they possibly could to help me pursue my dream.

GROSS: Like what?

Mr. ANDERSON: You know, donating to the theaters that I was a part of. You
know, making sure that I got to rehearsals or had a way to get home late
night, you know, when I was rehearsing plays and things like that. Coming out
and supporting me at events. I went to the High School for the Performing
Arts. They would come out to my performances, you know, because they wanted
to be a part of something that was good and pure from where they came from.
That's what I believe.

So, you know, they would see that and they'd go back to the hood, doing what
they did, and had a smile on their face. They were, oh man, `you should have
seen the actor this weekend. You should have seen him in this scene. You
should have seen him in that commercial.' So now when they see me on
television or in films, you know, they feel a part of that, you know,
regardless of where they are right now, you know?

GROSS: So you're still in touch with them, and "regardless of where they
are," it sounds like some of them are in prison.

Mr. ANDERSON: Oh, yeah, they are. They are.

GROSS: Mm-hmm. But you're still in touch?

Mr. ANDERSON: Yeah. Yeah. It's where I'm from. It's who I am. I can't
disconnect myself from, you know, my life, from where...

GROSS: Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Mr. ANDERSON: ...I was born and raised and bred as a young man. It's part
of my make up. It's what makes me who I am. So I can't just cut off my left
arm because, you know, I don't use it as often as I used to.

GROSS: How'd you get the part in "The Shield"?

Mr. ANDERSON: I went in...

GROSS: I should mention, you'd done a lot of comedies before. You were
probably better known for comedy.

Mr. ANDERSON: Yeah, you know, I had a string of comedies, you know, the
last--prior to "The Shield," the first seven years of my career have all been
comedic films and sitcoms. And so I was, you know, not really tired of being
the funny guy, it was just like, you know what, before I'm typecast as, you
know, the comic relief or the funny guy in this industry, you know what? Let
me take a step back and really show them what I can do and what I've been
training at since I was nine. And I got the call from Shawn Ryan to come in
and audition for "The Shield." I went in. I auditioned with everybody else.
And I made it down to, you know, their final decision. I don't know who else
was involved, but I eventually won out for the character of Antwon Mitchell.

GROSS: My guest is Anthony Anderson and he's now starring in the new Fox TV
series "K-Ville," which is a cop series set in New Orleans.

Now, you've said that your mother was--you described her as a "career extra"
in another interview. What role did acting play in her life?

Mr. ANDERSON: It's because of my mother that I'm doing what I'm doing today.
You know, she would do community theater, and I can distinctly remember
sitting in the theater at Compton Community College and my mother was on stage
in a rehearsal of "A Raisin in the Sun," and I'm sitting in the back of the
house playing with my brothers and sister, and I just happened to look to the
stage and nine years old and say, you know what, that's what I'm going to do
with my life. And I went back to playing with my toys. That's when I had my
epiphany, and consciously and subconsciously since the age of nine I've been
preparing myself for not only where I my in my career right now but for where
I see myself years from now, and that was the moment.

GROSS: So, when you were nine and 10, what did you do to start preparing
yourself for that path?

Mr. ANDERSON: You know, anything that I can do in front of an audience, you
know, be it, reading poetry in school, spelling bees, you know, school plays,
weekend conservatories, things like that. Anytime there was an instance for
me to get up and read out loud in class or whatnot, I, you know, capitalized
on every opportunity it was for me to do something like that just to be in
front of an audience and perform.

GROSS: My guest is Anthony Anderson. He stars in the new Fox series
"K-Ville." We'll talk more after a break. This is FRESH AIR.

(Announcements)

GROSS: My guest is Anthony Anderson. He stars in the new Fox cop series
"K-Ville." Although he's become known as a dramatic actor, he got his start in
comedies. His comedic films include "Kangaroo Jack," "Big Mama's House" and
"Me, Myself, & Irene." he even had a short-lived sitcom called "All about the
Andersons." Here's a scene from one of the film comedies he co-starred in,
"Malibu's Most Wanted." Anderson plays one of two actors who have just been
hired by a politician to play gangsters and kidnap his son to scare him. The
other actor, played by Taye Diggs, is running through his lines while Anderson
directs him.

(Soundbite of "Malibu's Most Wanted")

Mr. TAYE DIGGS: (As Sean, in character) Give me a ride, punk, or I will dust
your ass!

Mr. ANDERSON: (As PJ) Nope. Not convincing.

Mr. DIGGS: (As Sean) Dammit!

Mr. ANDERSON: (As PJ) Find your core character, Sean. You are an oppressed
black man from the ghetto.

Mr. DIGGS: (As Sean) Yeah, I'm having trouble finding this one, man.

Mr. ANDERSON: (As PJ) Hey, think Tupac.

Mr. DIGGS: (As Sean) All right. Let me try it again. Just let me...

Mr. ANDERSON: (As PJ) I see it. Action!

Mr. DIGGS: (As Sean, in character) Give me a ride, punk, or I will dust your
ass!

Mr. ANDERSON: (As PJ) Add a bi-otch, and I think you've got it.

Mr. DIGGS: (As Sean, in character) Give me a ride, punk, or I will dust your
ass, bi-otch!

Mr. ANDERSON: (As PJ) Bi-otch!

Mr. DIGGS: (As Sean) Bi-otch!

Mr. ANDERSON: (As PJ) Click it! Turn around and do it again!

Mr. DIGGS: (As Sean) Bi-otch!

Mr. ANDERSON: (As PJ) Yes!

(Soundbite of music)

(End of soundbite)

GROSS: That's my guest, Anthony Anderson, with Taye Diggs in a scene from
"Malibu's Most Wanted."

You had a short-lived sitcom called "All about the Andersons" that was loosely
based on your own life. What parts of your life did you draw on for that
show?

Mr. ANDERSON: Every aspect of it, you know. I created that with my partner,
Adam Glass, and it was just, you know, a show about, you know, three
generations of men living under one roof, you know, my father, myself, and my
son. But you know, the character on the show was my character, pre-Howard
University and post-Howard University, and that's what it was, you know, just
having a dream and having a father who, you know, worked with his hands in the
steel mills, you know, his entire life and not really understanding, you know,
the visionary of his child, of this son, you know, who had a dream. It was
like, OK, yeah, it's good to have a dream but what you going to do with that?
How does your dream pay a mortgage? How does your dream put food on the
table, you know.

My father was a man's man, and so he really couldn't grasp that concept of me
wanting this, you know, to the point where we got into an argument when he
asked me what I did and I was like, well, I'm an actor. He grabbed the remote
control and turned on the television and flipped through the channels and
pointed out people who were really acting. He said, `Now, where are you?' And
I was like, `Wow. OK, Pops, OK. You got me. You got me.' But, you know--so
that's what it was about. And, you know, before he passed on he was able to
see my career and to see my successes and enjoy that with me, and, you know,
we sat and would talk about it. And he understood.

GROSS: In your sitcom, "All about the Andersons," your father was so tired of
you freeloading in his home that he took the phone out and put a pay phone in
the living room that allowed you to make local calls only, but for a fee. He
padlocked the refrigerator so you couldn't eat his food.

Mr. ANDERSON: Mm-hmm.

GROSS: Did things like that really happen to you?

Mr. ANDERSON: No, that's true. That's true. You can ask anybody that grew
up with me. My father put padlocks on the refrigerators and took all the
phone jacks out of the house and put one jack in in the family room and put a
pay phone in there that you could only dial local numbers on, so I couldn't
even dial outside of the area code. If I tried to dial more than seven
numbers, the phone would automatically take my money because it thought that I
was trying to do something illegal, mind you. And literally I had to put a
quarter in the phone every three minutes.

GROSS: Well, let me ask you about some of the other movies that you've made.
Could we do this? Can I name the movie and can you tell me something really
interesting about the process of making it for you?

Mr. ANDERSON: Sure.

GROSS: Let's start with Martin Scorsese's "The Departed," in which you get
shot in the face at the end.

Mr. ANDERSON: Mm. Dream come true. Not to be shot in the face. But, yeah,
yeah, to be shot in the face in a Martin Scorsese film, yeah. To be a part of
that.

GROSS: What did Scorsese tell you about this last scene when you're getting
shot? Did he give you any direction about that?

Mr. ANDERSON: No, he was like, `Anthony, Anthony, just get shot in the face
and fall.' You know, that was it. That was it.

GROSS: What did you do? I mean, besides getting shot in the face and
falling? Like, what went through your mind in that moment?

Mr. ANDERSON: `Wow, I die after the star of the film in the Martin Scorsese
movie. I have made it. A brother survived after the star gets killed in a
Scorsese film! I have made my place in history!'

GROSS: You died happy.

Mr. ANDERSON: I did, I did. But, you know, it was just par for the course.
It was a job we had to do, and I was excited to be there and to be able to do
it with the people that I was surrounded by. So it was real exciting for me.

GROSS: OK. "Hustle & Flow," a film in which Terrence Howard played a pimp
who really wants to be a rap star, and you're his old friend. And you're the
recording engineering who's working with him...

Mr. ANDERSON: Mm-hmm.

GROSS: ...and you're also like the really responsible one.

Mr. ANDERSON: Some of the most fun I've had on a set in a long time, working
with friends. Terrence Howard and I have known each other for, ooh, 15, 16
years now. Taraji Henson and myself, we went to Howard University together...

GROSS: Oh.

Mr. ANDERSON: ...as well as Paula Parker. And D.J. Qualls, we've known
each other for quite some time. John Singleton has been a friend, and I had
gotten to know Craig Brewer over the last few years because Terrence and I
were attached to this film from the beginning and we couldn't get it made.
And John Singleton came in and ponied up his own money and bucked the system
and did it his way, and I applaud him for that and I learned a lot from
Singleton in doing that.

But we knew that we were working on something that had the potential to be
great, and, you know, Terrence and Taraji and Paula and I, we made a pact
that, you know, while we were doing this that, you know, we weren't going to
be afraid to fall, so we could try anything and everything under the sun while
the cameras were rolling. And we just wanted each and every one of us to know
that we would be there to support one another. So whatever it is you want to
do on the day, do it.

GROSS: Did you...

Mr. ANDERSON: Don't be afraid to fall.

GROSS: ...take any big chances?

Mr. ANDERSON: We all did, yeah, yeah.

GROSS: What was one of your chances?

Mr. ANDERSON: Just, you know, just, you know, I actually recorded some of
the songs that you hear in the movie, literally. I became that producer. I
had never stepped behind a mixing board, knew nothing about the process and
whatnot, and I went in there and I learned that. You know, that's Terrence
Howard, you know, spitting those lyrics on the album and in the movie. That's
him. You know, my biggest challenge was actually recording music.

GROSS: Well, Anthony Anderson, I really appreciate your talking with us, and
I want to wish you good luck with your new series, "K-Ville," and you know,
with the part of your life living in New Orleans. Thank you so much.

Mr. ANDERSON: Oh, thank you very much. The pleasure was all mine.

GROSS: Anthony Anderson stars in the Fox series "K-Ville." The second episode
airs tonight.

(Credits)

GROSS: For podcasts of our show go to our Web site, freshair.npr.org. I'm
Terry Gross.
Transcripts are created on a rush deadline, and accuracy and availability may vary. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Please be aware that the authoritative record of Fresh Air interviews and reviews are the audio recordings of each segment.

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