Hotseat: Shane Torres

The soon-to-depart comedian on why he's petrified about New York City, brunch with Whitney Streed and how Portland comics need to work harder.

Shane Torres

It's a sad day in Portland comedy. Standup stalwart Shane Torres is decamping for New York City.

Torres, who was runner-up in WW's Funniest 5 poll last year, has been a rock in Portland's comedy landscape since 2007. The Texas-raised comedian (and self-described "Native American Meatloaf impersonator") has witnessed the scene grow from poorly attended, anything-goes open-mic nights to packed, locally produced shows with top-shelf national talent. He's one of the city's hardest-working comics, and he brings a disarmingly casual style to his jokes about plasma centers and getting fired from Kinko's. He's a former roommate of Ian Karmel and a close friend of Ron Funches, both of whom also left Portland in the last few years—and recently enumerated the many merits of this city's comedy scene on a recent episode of the podcast WTF with Marc Maron.

Torres will perform at a sendoff show on Friday, Oct. 10 at the Bossanova Ballroom, along with about 10 other local comics. He sat down with WW at Holman's—the first Portland bar he ever frequented—to talk about his plans for the future, reminisce about this town's comedy scene, and provide some advice to Portland comics.

Willamette Week: How are you feeling about leaving town?

Shane Torres: I'm super fucking nervous.

Why?

It's New York. It's the biggest, toughest place on Earth. But I also feel good. I feel like I am a good comic. I feel like I'm getting good, that's a better way to put it. I'm starting to get better, and New York is a place where I can hopefully become great, and work really fucking hard, and do a lot of sets and do all those things, get more of the visibility and stage time that we all seek as comics.

Why New York over L.A.?

I like L.A., but New York seems to resonate with me a little more I think, as a city. That could all change when I live there.

Have you worked any clubs there?

I did a spot at a club, and I've done some indie shows.

Are you working the road a lot right now?

A fair amount. More every year. Hopefully that continues.

What kind of places have you been working?

I've added some amazing clubs to my roster this year. But I've been in Medford this year as well. I go all over. A lot of festivals this year.

What are your expectations for New York?

I want to succeed. I know that's very general. Succeeding for me is getting something that I want, and then getting something else after that. Not to be greedy, but there's always room to grow. I would like to keep growing.

Do you ever judge yourself by the success of your peers, namely Karmel and Funches?

I want to be in the same breath of conversation with them as a professional. Right now, nationally, I'm not. They're great, and they deserve it, and I couldn't be happier for those guys, but I want that too, and I'm going to go and get it. I want people to know that I'm a real comic. Even if they don't know me, I want people to say that he's a real comic, not just a guy from Portland who does comedy.

How's your confidence?

Twenty percent.

Seriously? It has to be higher than that, or else you wouldn't go to New York.

It's a very daunting thing. I'm really scared. I'm super fucking petrified. Not petrified, because petrified makes it seem like I'm not going to move, and I am going to make moves and work hard. But it's a scary thing. But that's a good thing. You know if you have a problem that you've been avoiding and then you finally confront it, and it sucks but you have the relief of knowing where you are with it? That's how I feel a lot of the time with this move. 

New York has a lot of old-school comedy clubs. Do you see yourself as more of a road comic or a club comic?

I want to be a comic who sells tickets for people to see him. I want to have fans that love my comedy. I want to sell out comedy clubs, and if theaters come, [I want] to sell out theaters. And I would love to write something, like on a TV show, or something of that nature, and acting, all those possibilities are ultimately open. But I'm a solid writer right now, but I'm a good standup right now. I know that. I'm getting good. And that's what I feel comfortable doing the most. Standup is the thing I've spent most of my adult life trying to do now, and I love it. I would love to be the cool guy that comes to town. I want Marc Maron's audience and Kyle Kinane's audience to be my audience. That's my goal. 

Do you feel like TV is a possibility for you?

I don't know how much I like acting yet, because I'm not very good at it. I've done some of it, on good TV shows and stuff. It's weird to me because I just started off doing standup and I never thought much more than that until recently, until the past year or so. That was when people were you like, You should do all this stuff. They're going to want to know what else you can do. Unless you're selling $50,000 worth of tickets every weekend, or whatever, they kind of don't give a fuck. It's not enough.

Have you been talking to others to help prepare for your move?

I talk with Ian (Karmel) and Ron (Funches). Mostly Ian, and my close friends here, like Sean Jordan. Ian was like, "You just have to jump." That's what he told me a few months ago. It's fucking super scary. I need to be in a place where I can have a lot more success than here, which sucks because I love Portland, but it's also time for me to move on to a different stage in my life. If there was real industry here, like there is in L.A. or New York, I would probably stay.

How did Portland go from open-mic nights at Suki's to having comics who are making a big impact on a national level in such a short stretch of time?

The quality of comics has grown. That's not to say there weren't great comics before, because there certainly were, but comedy was not cool for a long time. It was not a thing people were into. Bridgetown has certainly helped so much. I would also say Helium, of course—having a real A-club where there is a real national headliner that somebody has heard of. 

Some people might say the Portland comedy scene is built on a couple of talented comics who are all close friends, and because of that might be unsustainable. How do you respond to that?

I would say, while the three of us are all close friends, and we're all leaving or have left, it's not just about us three. There are some real talented people here. 

So what is the formula for keeping the scene strong?

I think that for this scene to be better, it actually has to better, and that means putting in the work. Certain comics really do that. Sean Jordan is one of those guys. Barbara Holm and Amy Miller both run amazing local shows—they're full every time. There are a hundred people at them in basements and bars in Portland, and there aren't two million people in this whole fucking city. Curtis Cook is such a young bright star, he's so funny. There are other ones I could name all day. But there are so many people who are right here. Are they going to do those one or two more things you need to do to be the big fish in the scene? I don't know who that person is going to be. Zak Toscani is so funny. Bri Pruett. There is more and more comedy coming here all the time. Getting those opening gigs for that guy who is coming through and just doing one night—there are probably a few of those a month that locals get on, and I get a fair amount of them, so it's also about who gets those opportunities next. Getting the shot is the important part.

One of the issues with the Portland scene, and why comics have to leave, is that it doesn't seem possible to earn a living here. Do you think that's every going to change?

You can earn a living based out of Portland. Great comics do it. Dwight Slade does it. Auggie Smith did it. Susan Rice. There's a generation well before us, who established it and they did it. They do the one-nighters and some of them do cruise ships, and they do all this stuff. It depends on what you want to do, and how you want to do it. I could probably make what I make now at the coffee shop headlining one-nighters, but that means I've got to go to Pocatello, Idaho. And there's nothing wrong with that, it's just not what I want to do.

What will you miss most about Portland?

The thing I will miss the most is the passive-aggressive attitude that runs through the city like the river that cuts it in half. On a more serious note, I will miss too many things to count, but the people are certainly the thing I will miss the most. Oh, and Toast. I will miss going to brunch with Whitney Streed at Toast.

What are your favorite memories of the city and the comedy scene?

Getting into [Montreal comedy festival] Just For Laughs the same year as Ian was one of the best moments in Portland. We screamed and laughed like giddy little school irls when we found out each other got it. Then we talked about boys. When Sean, Ian and I sold out the first Funny Over Everything at the Hollywood with Funches, that was a big one. Hopefully there will be a lot more moments like that in New York.

Do you think having worked as a promoter with Funny Over Everything will help you in New York, since building shows is a good way to make connections in a big comedy city?  

No. I'm not a good promoter. I think it will help me on how to approach other people. I know what I hate, as a comic. I know not going to be like, "Are you the booker of the Comedy Cellar? I would love to come do comedy there." Something I have done in comedy seminars, when I'm at festivals, I ask what shouldn't I do. Everyone wants to know, "How do I get on SNL?" I'm like, "What do I do that doesn't fuck me in the ass?" That's an important thing.

Got any parting words for Portland comics?

Work harder. I'm not saying they don't work hard, but there are super talented people here who don't put in enough effort. Build something with someone, whether it's a show, or a podcast, or a blog, or a Facebook group. Think about what you're doing until you don't have to think about it anymore. Be a good person, and be a better comic.

SEE IT: Shane Torres is at Bossanova Ballroom, 722 E Burnside St., 206-7630. 9 pm Friday, Oct. 10. $10-$15. 21+. Tickets here.

WWeek 2015

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