Ophira Eisenberg

Today I am interviewing Ophira Eisenberg, a comedian born in Calgary, Alberta, Canada who has been doing comedy for twelve years. To find out more about Ophira, please visit her website. (Photo by Anya Garrett)

Why did you start doing stand-up comedy?

It is a bit of a mystery to me. My first audience was my ballet repertoire class. I was what was known as a chatty ballerina - a class clown on Pointe shoes. I would crack jokes between the changements and grande battements. In high school I would tell stories at lunch time I'd heard from my older brothers and sisters to a table of my friends. But I never considered formally performing or at the very least doing stand-up. After finishing a cultural anthropology degree, which you could say is a prerequisite to stand-up, as it is the study of human nature, I wandered around aimlessly trying to figure out whether I should pursue a masters degree or go a completely different direction. Finally on the advice of a friend I took a weekend stand-up comedy course that concluded with a live performance. Looking back my material was horrible but I think the audience responded to the fact that I was thrilled to finally be on stage, so it sorta well. Well enough for me to feel that intense rush all comedians talk about. It took me another couple of years before I took it seriously, and here we are. Now it is too late to stop.

Do you follow any rules for writing or performing comedy?

I don’t really follow any hard and fast rules, but I will say that my approach has changed over the years. I used to think everything should be organic. I would only write when it felt right etc… Now I see that as lazy. When I put aside the time to write, even if I don’t feel like it, it’s still productive. It really is like going to the gym, a muscle that needs to be flexed daily in order to stay strong. I’m also someone that needs to get on stage a lot in order to work out jokes; I tend to write on stage. If I have an idea, I usually need at least 10-15 times to try it in order to get it right or make the decision to lose it. I still find open mikes really useful even if it is just to get the words out of your mouth.

What is the weirdest thing that happened while you were on stage?

I think the most recent “weirdest” thing that has happened to me was at the D-Lounge in New York a couple of summers ago. After I ran to city hall and got married, we decided to throw a party for our families. Since the whole thing was low-key and low budget, my friend and fellow comedian Allison Castillo suggested we put on a special version of our then weekly comedy show Sweet Paprika and invite the families and friends in lieu of a rehearsal dinner. I didn’t realize how incredibly stressful that idea was until the night of the show. Most of my family from Canada showed up – meaning my mother, four out of five of my brothers and sisters and their spouses, and of course they planted themselves in the very front row. Most of them had either never seen me perform or witnessed some crappy show years in the past. And they were there to critique me. I know that sounds a little harsh, but trust me - it was the truth. I know these people. Before I went on I paced back at forth at the back of the room, swearing and crossing material I deemed inappropriate off my set list. When I walked on stage to their judgmental glare, all lined up in the front like a bunch of adjudicators, I blurted out, “Don’t think sitting in the front room makes up for years of not supporting me.” I had cracked. Half the crowd, being friends and comics, laughed but nervous tension gripped the air. I shook off my desire to tell them what I really thought and switched gears to my act. Save the rage for the funeral DVD. Then something rather unexpected happened. They loved it. They howled. My older brother laughed so hard his eyes were wet.

We finished the show with a ridiculous dance number to Billy Idol’s White Wedding, complete with a zombie-wedding storyline and related jazz choreography. The entire crowd erupted and rose to their feet. My seventy-nine year old mother flew up to me after, held my hands and while looking into my eyes told me that I was a genius. Even my eleven year old nephew, who was excited to just be in a bar, acted like a star struck fan and glowed when Allison asked him if he would like to be our tour manager. Sometimes, it’s even weirder when things work out. I had won my family’s approval and I wondered, did this mean I could quit stand-up?