Despite this extensive workload, live comedy remains his number one priority. “It all comes back to stand-up for me,” Iglesias says. “All of the other stuff is secondary.”
Iglesias makes his way back to Australia later this month for his biggest tour yet (rolling into Rod Laver Arena on Saturday September 20). As evidenced by this year’s feature length stand-up movie, The Fluffy Film, he has plenty of experience performing in venues of this size. Communicating humour to several thousand people at once is indubitably a hard task. But Iglesias says the transition to bigger venues wasn’t that difficult.
“It’s amazing what you can do with modern technology. I don’t really have to worry about projecting outwards because we’ve got big screens set up so that everyone can see the show. And obviously the audio is taken care of, so it hasn’t been too hard.”
Something that’s no doubt assisted with Iglesias’ seamless ascent is his easy-going comedic personality. Thanks to his no-nonsense, voice-of-the-everyman sensibility, Iglesias appeals to a broad and diverse audience. Sure, his stand-up isn’t exactly polite – he touches on racial disparity and reveals intimate personal details – but it’s all delivered at an approachable reading level.
“What I do is very relatable,” he says. “I’m not that controversial. My comedy is very… fluffy. It’s stories about things that people can relate to – stories about family and relationships.”
Yes, these days Iglesias’ comedy largely revolves around the inanities and amusements that are dotted throughout everyday travails. However, he didn’t always work with such an accessible palette. “At first I was just doing anything to get a laugh out of people – whatever that took,” he says. “It’s definitely evolved over the years to be what it is now.”
As mentioned, a large portion of Iglesias’ material stems from the relationships he has with his girlfriend and adopted son. It’s never shy on hilarity, but the stories generally appear to be a direct re-telling of lived events. So, with this in mind, one wonders whether his family might feel some bitterness towards dad’s day job. “My son now recognises the look in my eyes when he’s done something that I’m going to talk about in my comedy [laughs]. He gets mad, but he’s going to do the same. I can already see signs of it in him – inheriting my comedy.”
Even though his son’s cottoned on to the fact that what happens privately is liable to be repeated in front of thousands of people, that doesn’t mean Iglesias is in ‘performance mode’ when he’s not on stage. “When I’m at home the last thing I want to be thinking about is work. I don’t want to one of those comedians – I hate it when comedians are trying to be funny all the time. When I’m at home I just want to relax.”
OK, so Iglesias refrains from turning each situation into a joke. But judging by the content of his comedy, it seems safe to assume he’d have a pen and paper on hand at all times, ready to jot down every humorous incident. Well, that’s not how he works. In fact, his routines come together with a relative a lack of design. “I don’t write anything down,” he reveals. “When I get on stage I just tell stories about the things on my mind that I think are funny. I’ve never written it out. Even in school, I couldn’t really understand things by writing them down.
“When I want to try out new material I do gigs at a small club here in LA. Sometimes I’ll take a recorder and listen back to the shows to see what jokes are working.”
As unconventional as it may seem, this technique is obviously working out for the fluffy anti-hero. Last year, Iglesias placed 9th in Forbes’ list of the world’s highest paid stand-up comedians. This is certainly a noteworthy feat, but he wasn’t all that chuffed when his financial particulars were disclosed to the public.
“My managers wanted to release that information because it’s a big achievement, but I wasn’t so happy with everyone knowing how much I’m earning. Because after that happens you have all these people calling you, asking for favours. You know, I have every charity knocking at my door.”
Either way, this detail further emphasises the extent of Iglesias’ star power. It’s actually come to the point that he can’t leave the house without being recognised. Of course, this could become a major nuisance. The fluffy joke-maker accepts that it’s part of the job. “Honestly, I love it when people come up to me and they want to get a photo or tell me they like my comedy. The only problem is, my family don’t like it so much. But I can’t be mad about it. I know what I signed up for.”
BY AUGUSTUS WELBY
