Scott Capurro

Scott Capurro: interview
From: Time Out London Magazine, January 19, 2007

California dreaming: Capurro reflects on the pandemonium he’s created
Audiences from Edinburgh to Australia have taken umbrage at Scott Capurro’s gags. ‘I think it was the masturbatory gesture while staring at Christ on the cross,’ he muses

Scott Capurro has a reputation for causing offence and upset. Back in 2000, in his show at the Edinburgh Fringe, he caused controversy with some material about the Holocaust. In Australia, one year later, there was considerable outrage when he cracked jokes on live TV about having sex with Jesus. As recently as last September the producer of a comedy show in Cape Town suggested that Capurro tone down some of his religious stuff. ‘That was like throwing down the gauntlet,’ he explains. ‘The Muslims were complaining: “Don’t mention the Koran. Just don’t do it!” So I did.’
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He’s been told that he scares people. It’s been put to him that sheer entertainment is sufficient in itself. ‘Obviously it’s not. Not enough. It’s not enough to be just a distracting clown.’ Capurro’s aims are best expressed by describing his plans for a series of ‘Laughtershocks’. ‘Hour-long monologues where, at the beginning, a question is asked and then, 55 minutes later, it’s answered.’ He’s got the first three questions lined up already: Why do gay men wanna get married anyway? Why are lesbians humourless? Why can’t black people tip? ‘As always with my act, we’ll examine the very phobias each question seems to support. Ironic, right? I’m here to prove Americans can master that last gem in the British crown.’

Capurro was born in San Francisco. He did his first paid gigs as a stand-up there in the early ’90s. ‘Then a gay comedy club opened in the city and got my first taste of being “out” on stage. I’d been closeted. Before that, I’d never told the audience, although I’m sure they could tell. My wrists have a mind all of their own. I’ll always feel my roots, professionally and personally, are in San Francisco. I spent New Year in my underpants drinking vodka in a bar full of shaved gays.’

In October, though, he moved into a flat in Bethnal Green. That’s because he spends most of his time now in the UK.

‘It’s the epicentre of stand-up,’ Capurro declares. England beckoned with increasing insistence from the moment he won the Perrier best Newcomer Award in 1994. His stand-up is more tailored to British audiences than American ones. ‘Now I own a property. My family is nice to me. They’re actually chatty and kind. Like I’m valid, and important enough to share their divorce details with, because I’ve bought a shower curtain. I’m intrigued what might happen when I buy a car, as I must, just to avoid British Rail on Sundays. Maybe my stepmother will finally reveal the location of her eldest son, who disappeared seven years ago. I liked him. He never spoke, and I think he might have been autistic, but he had an unintentionally gay moustache and big thighs. Do you see where I’m going with this? My financial prowess might lead to a reunion with the one man I’ve ever truly loved, and the only man I’ve ever chased who won’t have the physical strength to fight back.’

On Monday, at Soho Theatre, Capurro starts on a six-night run of his stand-up show ‘Yankee Dog Pig’. ‘I’m discussing slightly volatile subjects,’ he concedes. ‘I want to joke about racial hatred and martyrdom without taking a side. I want to reveal political hypocrisy. And tell a lot of dick jokes. I’m sure I’ll cover Blair. He’s an endless source of misinformation. His apology for the way Saddam was killed was a masterclass in hyperbole. Criticising the noose as cruel, after Blair has murdered so many needlessly and brutally, is both sociopathic and rather sweet, in a frightfully bloodcurdling way. But then the British government is one huge contradiction, constantly scrambling like a fallen cripple reaching for his wheelchair.’

Capurro remains unrepentant about the shit he stirs with his observations. Any further thoughts about the Australian furore? ‘I think it was the masturbatory hand gesture while staring at Christ on the cross that made those in the outback squirm. But it’s good for them, like a cold morning swim.’ Last year’s problems in Cape Town? ‘The queers hate themselves there. They’ve got AIDS up to the eyeballs and a culture that despises homo sex.’ The worldwide consternation? ‘When people pay for the show, they get a show, anal warts and all.’ He’s concerned about one thing. ‘I talk a lot about money and power because I want some. I have a mortgage now and I’m terrified everything will be taken from me and I won’t be able to make fun of who I want when I want.’

Scott Capurro, who Arthur Smith called ‘the epitome of waspishness’, lived up to his epithet like a hornet at picnic. His dark and sexual material caused a few backs to straighten and some nervous tittering. Sweeping across Catholicism, fancying the crucified Christ as masturbation aid, a ‘hot Jew on a stick’, British anti-Semitism, war-mongering and the Chinese, he could not have been any more determined to shake up the cuddly atmosphere.

His glee at putting the boot into political correctness made for some uncomfortable moments, redeemed by a splendid double-edged joke about Chinese women drivers where you couldn’t choose which part to be more offended by. His phrase ‘I can say this’ allowed him to be spectacularly offensive. How wonderful for him that his sexuality grants permission to go to town on his own prejudices.

His piece on his reading of the Koran drew some shocked laughter. However, his smooth delivery and sheer delight in playing the bad guy, and the fact that this all done in the name of comedy, just about kept the crowd with him. You know the material’s pungent when other comics say ‘he doesn’t need to be so offensive!’

From the Evening Standard, which only just reviewed me favorably in February. This Dessau guy has a real hard on for me I guess.

…and Scott Capurro. Even in these open-minded days this hugely experienced provocateur would not get a whiff of the mainstream with his set that took in crucifixion, the holocaust and baby murder. Yet his childish shock tactics went down a storm. The clapping was accompanied by the whirr of Mary Whitehouse spinning in her grave.

And this is from a comedy website called Chortle. Again, she’s in love/hate with just about every move I make. I like it.

Scott Capurro, who Arthur Smith called ‘the epitome of waspishness’, lived up to his epithet like a hornet at picnic. His dark and sexual material caused a few backs to straighten and some nervous tittering. Sweeping across Catholicism, fancying the crucified Christ as masturbation aid, a ‘hot Jew on a stick’, British anti-Semitism, war-mongering and the Chinese, he could not have been any more determined to shake up the cuddly atmosphere.
His glee at putting the boot into political correctness made for some uncomfortable moments, redeemed by a splendid double-edged joke about Chinese women drivers where you couldn’t choose which part to be more offended by. His phrase ‘I can say this’ allowed him to be spectacularly offensive. How wonderful for him that his sexuality grants permission to go to town on his own prejudices.
His piece on his reading of the Koran drew some shocked laughter. However, his smooth delivery and sheer delight in playing the bad guy, and the fact that this all done in the name of comedy, just about kept the crowd with him. You know the material’s pungent when other comics say ‘he doesn’t need to be so offensive!