Standup comic Brian Regan, who appears at the Roanoke Performing Arts Theatre this Sunday, September 27 at 7:30 p.m., is an iTunes and dorm room CD favorite. The star of a popular “Comedy Central” special in 2000 (still in reruns), Regan isn’t in town promoting anything new; he’s just working. “With a comedian, once you go on tour, you never go home,” he quips. “I’ve been on tour for 25 years.”
That’s not entirely true; the former college football player, now a family man living in Las Vegas, typically works every other week for four days, then stays close to home the rest of the time. Early on, he even opened on occasion for another standup comedian of some renown – Jerry Seinfeld, whom he says, was very supportive.
“He’s like the iconic king of comedy,” recalls Regan, who has since opened for the sitcom star several more times. That was also his first exposure to bigger venues like the 2,000 seat one he will try to fill this Sunday in Roanoke. “I remember going wow, this is fun.”
Don’t look for Regan to star in his own half hour show as the dad for some kooky family; he’s not craving that celebrity status anyway. “I like the comedy part. I want my comedy to be famous.”
Regan told the Roanoke Star-Sentinel, very tongue in cheek, “there has to be some twisted, bizarre psychological need [to go on the road]. It’s a real hit or miss type of thing, especially early in your career. If you get up on stage and it’s not going well, there’s no place to hide. You get all of the credit, but you also get all of the blame.” Regan finds that thrilling, but “scary.”
“If the crowd is laughing you’re funny. If [not], you aren’t funny, buddy.” Things not going well isn’t much of a problem for Regan, now 50, who works “clean” during his act, no blue material here. “It seemed to work out for me.” Growing up in a house with eight kids and one shower, his accountant father used to time their two-minute showers. This would seem to provide plenty of fodder. He doesn’t talk too much about his wife and two kids, because he doesn’t want to alienate those who aren’t part of a family unit.
It’s hard for him to put a finger on what his audiences respond to, but he calls “point of view,” comedy one aspect he enjoys. “I like to poke fun at myself. We’re laughing at ourselves and the human condition…a shared comic experience.” He doesn’t take mental notes all the time either and can turn it off if he has to, “it just kind of happens naturally.”
Regan made the jump to larger venues a few years ago, but during his time in the business he has played everything from bars (“comedy one night a week, you know? Ten cent tequila and comedy night!”), to the more well known clubs. Now, at larger rooms like the Performing Arts Theatre, “it’s kind of exciting to have a bunch of people that are focused on you, going ‘well, what do you have to say, chuckles?’”
At least he doesn’t have to deal with the “check spot” comedians must endure when playing nightclubs, when there is an “attention dip,” as Regan puts it, 20 minutes before the end of the show. That’s when servers drop checks on tables and everyone puts out their credit cards. “You feel the bottom drop out,” he notes. Getting “louder and sillier,” maybe engaging the audience more, is his solution. That won’t be a problem this Sunday night.
If he looks like a football player, that’s because he was: Regan played in high school, then was a wide receiver at a small college before injuries and the realization that he wasn’t going to the NFL drove him toward a new career path on the stage. Before leaving the game behind, he did try out for a semi-pro team in Florida.
“It was so off the radar,” laughs Regan, who made one cut before being given his walking papers. He still dreams of gridiron glory, going back to Heidelberg (OH) College hundreds of times in his mind to finish his final season.
His game now is on stage, not on turf, and life is good. “I just live my life man, I’m a husband and a daddy and I travel and I watch TV. Certain things just kind of pop up.” The uneasy feeling he used to get before football games isn’t much different than the one he gets now before going out in front of an audience.
“A lot of people try to avoid those butterfly feelings [but] that means you’re not putting yourself out there. I know that it’s a good thing ultimately.” (see roanokeciviccenter.com for more on Sunday’s show)
By Gene Marrano [email protected]
