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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Choice words: Wright trolls life for humor

Steven Wright performs comedy on Friday night at the Bing.

Steven Wright is a master of the non sequitur. The Emmy- and Grammy-nominated comedian, who performs at the Bing Crosby Theater on Friday, is known for his rumpled appearance and dry, deadpan delivery: He always look exasperated, nervous and disheveled, like Woody Allen’s even more self-conscious cousin.

That thrown-together persona is mostly a put-on, though, because Wright’s jokes are meticulously crafted. They possess just the right blend of nonsense and logic, and they don’t waste a single word.

“I was driving down the street and passed a gas station,” goes one of his bits. “There were two signs in the window – ‘Help Wanted’ and ‘Self Service.’ So I went in and hired myself.”

Another: “I’ve been getting into astronomy, so I installed a skylight. The people who live above me are furious.”

“I was cesarean born. You can’t really tell, although whenever I leave the house I go out through the window.”

“I went into a restaurant. The menu said, ‘Breakfast anytime.’ So I ordered French toast during the Renaissance.”

From his home in rural Massachusetts, Wright explained – in his typical monotone delivery – how he finds inspiration for his material.

“It’s from being in the world,” he said. “From when you wake up in the morning to when you go to sleep, the world is like a giant mosaic painting of little, tiny pieces of information. So some of those pieces of information jump out as jokes to me. I’m reacting to the world like any artist. It goes in your head and it boomerangs out as something else.”

Though his jokes are finely honed, Wright says he doesn’t fuss over his work; the bits come to him, and he writes them down. That’s it. In fact, he’s constantly jotting things down: The coffee table in his living room is littered with notebooks, he says, piled next to the Academy Award he won in 1989 for a short film called “The Appointments of Dennis Jennings.” (He describes his Oscar win as “a fluke.”)

“It happens pretty quickly, actually,” Wright said of his writing process. “When I think of the joke, I usually think of it in the exact wording. And if I don’t, within 10 seconds I have it worded correctly. I’ve been doing it so long that I know how to get to the point. I don’t want to waste the audience’s energy with any unnecessary information.”

Wright’s particular brand of terse absurdity, which owes as much to George Carlin as Bob Newhart, has had quite an impact on the comedy world: Zach Galifianakis, Tig Notaro, Anthony Jeselnik and Demetri Martin have all cited him as a major influence, and the late Mitch Hedberg’s oft-quoted brand of one-liners are straight from the Steven Wright playbook.

“It’s weird to me, because you’re not thinking of influencing anyone,” Wright said. “You’re trying to write a joke, you’re trying to do a show, you’re trying to perform. You’re not thinking of the 15-year-old who’s watching this on television and then 10 years later they’re a comedian.

“It’s like if you were in a motorboat going along in a lake. You’re not thinking of the waves hitting the shore and what effect they’re going to have. When the ripple comes off the side of the boat, you’re not thinking how it will affect the people in the water. You’re just driving the boat.”

In the years since his accidental Oscar, Wright has racked up plenty of TV and film work: He’s had recognizable roles in the cult movies “Half Baked,” “So I Married an Axe Murderer” and “Coffee and Cigarettes,” and he provided the voice of the disinterested radio deejay in Quentin Tarantino’s “Reservoir Dogs.” Most recently, he’s worked as a consulting producer for the critically beloved FX series “Louie,” directed by and starring comedian Louis C.K., another of Wright’s admirers.

“He tells me the story, and I give him my feedback,” Wright said. “I go to the shooting and we look at the monitor, we discuss whether it was funny or not. … It’s a pretty amazing thing, because Louis is an absolute genius. With stand-up, you’re alone – not lonely, alone – with everything you write. I don’t discuss anything with anybody, so it’s fun to be discussing things with another comedian. It’s great.”