Six months later, as Brennan takes his latest stand-up show, “Brand New Neal,” to D.C., where is he on that journey?
“When I say ‘Brand New Neal,’ it’s because I’m having fewer emotional disorders than I’ve had,” Brennan says. “I would say I’m healthier than I’ve ever been emotionally.”
Brennan has even turned “Blocks” into a platform for others’ soul-searching, launching a podcast by the same name in which celebrity guests wrestle with their demons. This week, he will resume unpacking his own emotional baggage with performances at the Howard Theatre on Thursday and Kennedy Center on Friday.
In a recent phone interview, the “Chappelle’s Show” co-creator discussed shaping his latest show, the notion of comedians being “under attack” and his long-term emotional well-being.
(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)
Q: In your 2017 special “3 Mics,” you used those three microphones to deliver three different styles of comedy. In “Blocks,” you used toylike figures to represent facets of your personality. What do you like about structuring your stand-up in such unconventional ways?
A: It’s a way to stand out. It’s a way to express more than just a monologue, or certainly a monologue of glib self-confidence. Now, having said that, the show I’m doing in D.C. has no structure — I mean, it has structure, but it’s not like that. It’s not “3 Mics.” It’s not “Blocks.” It doesn’t have a different dramatic ethos.
Q: You told the New Yorker last fall that you had 45 to 50 minutes of material but that you hadn’t found a way to turn it into a special. Is “Brand New Neal” that material?
A: Yeah, and now it’s an hour-plus. It’s coalescing into a very good hour, so I’m not going to force myself to do a [unique] structure that isn’t there. So I have some bad news: My show is structured like a Bill Burr show.
Q: What’s the foundation of “Brand New Neal”?
A: I’m kind of hopeful, in that if you can’t make it to absolutely pure 100 percent emotional health, there’s a lot of upside to having imperfect emotional health. One of the bits toward the end of the show is that most great things in life come from psychopaths and drug addicts. Most of Freud’s books should be called “This May Be the Cocaine Talking.” Like, there’s something positive about mental illness. Then I go through a litany of musicians, a litany of comedians, and I’m a little more accepting of the idea that I may be optimized for one thing — as are many, many of my comedy sisters and brothers.
Q: What else do you cover in the show?
A: There’s two big sections to the material I’m doing. One, I’m sort of living online. And then the second half is the world that I inhabit now where almost every time I pick my phone up, there’s an alert of, like, your friend is in trouble — whether it’s Dave Chappelle or Chris Rock or Joe Rogan or Kevin Hart. Comedy is such a focal point in culture now that it’s just an odd situation to be in comedy. There’s just always something.
Q: Do you find yourself walking on eggshells when writing your stand-up because so many comedians are being called out for their jokes or remarks?
A: This thing that comedians are under attack, I just reject. Meaning, being the center of culture and being under attack are two different things. I don’t believe that Dave is under attack [because of his jokes about transgender people]. Most of the people I know that are “under attack” are doing arenas. I think it’s just a matter of all of these other quadrants of society have failed. I’ll go with clergy and politicians — they’ve proven to be sort of corrupt. So somebody like Dave or somebody like Chris or somebody like Joe becomes reliable. I don’t think it’s because [comedians] are so morally superior. I think it’s because we don’t ever pretend we are. Because we never pretend we are, people go, “Well, there’s an honest broker.”
Q: In “Blocks,” you mention your roots as a writer and acknowledge feeling insecure about your status as a stand-up comic. How has the positive response to the show affected your thinking?
A: The embarrassing thing about success is that it works. So I would argue that my baseline self-esteem might be a little higher. I do so many things, as I’ve itemized repeatedly in the shows, in terms of mental health — whether it’s medication or therapy or ayahuasca and DMT and meditation and all this stuff. Then throw a bit of cultural acceptance in there, and I feel good. That’s why the name of the show is “Brand New Neal.”
Q: Beyond this show, what would you like to do going forward?
A: Most of my goals now are not professional, which is a little disappointing for an article about my profession. But most of my goals now are just emotional. Like, I would like my consciousness to feel a certain way most of the time in my body. So some of that is professional, and some of that’s just, for lack of a less squishy term, a spiritual pursuit and practice. I just think many of us are trained as human American people to achieve these professional things to affect our mood. Once you realize that, you go, “Well, how can I affect my mood independent of a boss or an achievement or an accomplishment or a goal?” So that’s where I am.
If you go
Brand New Neal
Howard Theatre, 620 T St NW. 202-803-2899. thehowardtheatre.com.
Date: Thursday at 8 p.m.
Price: $39.
John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, Terrace Theater, 2700 F St. NW. 202-467-4600. kennedy-center.org.
Date: Friday at 7 and 9 p.m.
Price: $35.
