Gilbert Gottfried has gotten a bad reputation. In fact, the veteran stand-up comedian with the squinty eyes and squawking, Brooklyn-tinged voice is perhaps best known for being annoying. But in the new dirty-joke documentary The Aristocrats, Gottfried's other reputation—as a daring, sharp "comic's comic"—is firmly cemented. Gottfried's legendary telling of his version of the "Aristocrats" joke at the 2001 Friars Club Roast of Hugh Hefner was the inspiration for Penn Jillette and Paul Provenza's movie, as well as its much-needed anchor.
A taut knot of screeches, rants, and obscenities, Gottfried has had one of the most bizarre and contradictory careers in comedy. He began performing stand-up at open mics around New York City at the age of 15, and thanks to his ear for imitations, he quickly became a club favorite. He did a stint on Saturday Night Live in 1980, then took a string of quirky roles in lackluster movies like Problem Child 2, Hot To Trot, and Look Who's Talking Too. But he was always best suited to playing his stage persona, even if it sometimes got him into trouble. In 1991, he was cut off during the Emmy-awards broadcast for expounding on a Pee-wee Herman masturbation joke. Less than a year later, he voiced one of Disney's most beloved characters, the snappy parrot Iago in Aladdin. Nowadays, he still straddles the line between adult and kid humor: He's both a favorite guest on The Howard Stern Show and a favorite voiceover artist for children's cartoons like PBS' Cyberchase. His new DVD Gilbert Gottfried Dirty Jokes (featuring an extended version of his Aristocrats joke) is due out this fall, but meanwhile, The A.V. Club talked to the surprisingly soft-spoken Gottfried about Stern, censorship, dirty words, and, of course, opening for Belinda Carlisle.
The A.V. Club: You don't sound like you.
Gilbert Gottfried: I know. I sound amazingly nice. I guess that could be in my obituary.
AVC: Well, it is amazingly nice, because your onstage persona is always described as "annoying" or "obnoxious." What is it like to be called "the comedy equivalent of nails on a chalkboard?"
GG: To me, as long as I get a buck for it, it's fine.
AVC: But you cultivated that persona like a character.
GG: Yeah, but not consciously. I don't know where it all fell together.
AVC: Is it true that you originally squinted your eyes because of nervousness?
GG: No. I don't know, maybe. I don't make any conscious decisions one way or the other.
AVC: So were you annoying from the beginning?
GG: It's funny, because I remember one time, there was a review of me in Variety and they said, "He's the most unpleasant thing to happen in show business since the snuff film." I guess I should feel proud. When I first started, I was mainly doing imitations. I don't know when the rest of it started, really.
AVC: People are either saying stand-up is dead or resurging— there's never really anything between. Which theory do you ascribe to?
GG: With my act, it has always been dead.
AVC: Did you really once open for Belinda Carlisle?
GG: Yeah. I think it was in Long Beach. Before I went on, the stage manager says to me, "There's a lot of little girls and their mothers in the audience, so you gotta keep it clean." And I went on, and I was attempting to work clean, and I was going nowhere. So, after about three minutes, I did just about every dick joke I know.
AVC: What happened?
GG: Well, I was supposed to do a couple of other dates with her. But after that, I get home, and my agent calls and says that the people from her camp called and gave me the classic line, "Everyone loves you there..." Which is show-biz lingo for "You've just been fired." Once they say anything good about you, it's the end. The term "We love him here" means "You can forget about that." It's like being out with a girl and having her say, "Look, I think you're a great guy..."
AVC: Do you set out to offend people?
GG: No. I just have a natural ability. I definitely work clean the majority of the time.
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