 | | Zach Zimmerman. Photo: Sam Burriss | | |
Brooklyn comedian Zach Zimmerman has come a long way from doing improv on a cruise ship just a couple of years ago. He’s created original shows like Queer EyeRL (with rotating co-stars like Matt Rogers, Bowen Yang, and Pat Regan), hosts live gay trivia shows on the hookup app Scruff, and recently opened for RuPaul’s Drag Race’s Alyssa Edwards at Carolines on Broadway. And yesterday, he independently released his first comedy album, Clean Comedy, a highly personal exploration of gay identity, sex, a breakup on a plane, religious reckoning, and how much his mom wishes he wouldn’t talk about any of that stuff. We sat down with Zimmerman for brunch at East Williamsburg’s Sunset Diner, where he’s a regular, to discuss the harsh realities of producing your own album. You’re having a lot of success in your comedy career. How are you making it happen?
What is “success?” What’s been nice about getting some traction is, I know the level of work I put in. I grossly underestimated the amount of time, energy, money, and just introspection required to make a comedy album. I’ve sent thousands of “This is my press release for this show” emails over the past eight years. The whole industry is emails. You have to pitch yourself and your ideas and your projects. Maybe from my time in advertising I’m just good at it, or maybe it’s just empathy. Before I ever send an email and say, “This is who I am and what I want,” I think of who they are and what they want and how to reframe what I want in terms of what they want. Isn’t that a tip from How to Win Friends and Influence People?
I don’t know. I only read up to “Use first names”… Jillian. Tell me how you went from a cold email to opening for Alyssa Edwards.
Last year a lot of my friends had shows in the New York Comedy Festival. On the site it says, “Reach out to this person.” So I emailed that person and was like, “Can I have a show if someone drops?” He said the schedule was full, but he liked my tape and put me in a bunch of guest spots and unpaid showcases. I shared an advanced copy of my album with him and almost immediately he was like, “This is hilarious; this is amazing.” Alyssa’s people asked that week for someone gay, but not that flamboyant, so he sent my name in and they said yes. The second night her assistant was like, “Alyssa would like you to wear this boa.” What was it like opening for one of the most famous drag queens in the world?
It was incredible. She commanded that room, and the audience worshipped her and felt so safe because of how in charge she was. I’m usually afraid of a crowd all being really excited about a thing because I grew up in an Evangelical church. So whenever there’s a mob vibe, I’m like, Okay, are we gonna persecute someone? But the power in that room awoke me to the power of drag. I think I’m a little gayer now. Is that power why you love to do crowd work in your shows?
Maybe. During crowd work it can seem like, Oh, he’s giving up control.No, honey, I’m in complete control. I love talking to people — especially blue-collar, salt-of-the-earth people. People who don’t send emails for a living are who I prefer to be in the company of. I should probably run for office at some point, but there’s some real raunchy stuff [out there about me]. We are getting our first gay presidential candidate [Pete Buttigeig]. Yeah, but he’s married, and he hasn’t talked about butthole videos onstage. You also met Caroline herself at the Alyssa gig.
Every night Alyssa was like, “Is Caroline here? Where’s Caroline? Is this a real person?” And it would kill. One night a woman I thought might be the owner came in and I said, “Are you Caroline?” And it was. I talked to her afterward and she said, “Wow, you’re hilarious. I want to develop you.” Whenever any of my friends ask me, “How did you get a thing?” I want to say, “I’m good.” A certain amount of luck matters, but everyone’s path in this industry is completely different. For some people it’s, “My uncle works for NBC and I got a Page internship and now I write for XYZ,” but I didn’t have any of that, so I’ve had to build my own network of misfits and cold emails and just being nice to people. Your mom is coming to New York to join you onstage for your album release party, where she’ll have a buzzer to censor performers who make dirty jokes. Has she listened to the album?
No, she won’t listen to it. She “doesn’t do filth.” But she has clicked deep enough into the marketing funnel I’ve created to quote a joke from the album back to me: “Oh, there is no God and you like to F?” She called me crying on Mother’s Day because I tweeted “Happy Mother’s Day, Moms! Thanks for the trauma!” So she can take my comedy very personally. But also, I take your occasional withholding of love very personally. I feel for her. You raise your kids but don’t realize one of them is keeping notes and plans to make art out of everything you ever did or said. Your comedy is extremely vulnerable, and I think it’s very vulnerable of your mom to come perform with you, especially when she’s not totally comfortable with what you talk about.
I think it’s the call of the spotlight. I said, “Are you going to be nervous onstage?” And she said, “I can rock a stage.” The show will be a chance for her to be exposed to more queer people than she’s ever been with. She is a slightly homophobic queer icon because she is a cartoon. She is Alyssa Edwards. She’s still working doubles and waiting tables at the Red Lobster at almost 60. I told her, “You have another incredible gift, which is gabbin’ and making people laugh, and it’s being used right now at $2.13 an hour, but get onstage with me and let’s entertain the Goddamn world.” Download Clean Comedyhere. Subscribe for $5 and get unlimited digital access to Vulture, New York, Intelligencer, the Cut, and Grub Street. | |
