Nasty Show’s May has the last laughs
At the best of times, it’s tough for a comic to stand out when on a bill with five others desperately seeking to steal the show. On July 20, it wasn’t the best of times for the debut of the Nasty Show series at Metropolis: host Mike Ward had just learned that he had been slapped with a $42,000 fine from Quebec’s Human Rights Tribunal for targeting Jérémy Gabriel, a young, physically disabled singer, in his act years earlier.
Understandably, this cast a cloud over the show, with Ward having to ruminate about his case and with the other comics on the bill wanting to show him solidarity. Regardless, there was one standup who was able to shake the room out of its sombre state: Ralphie May, a heretofore unknown entity in these parts.
May absolutely killed with a hysterical crash course on physiology, relating to the male and female reproductive regions — none of which can be repeated in a family publication. His shtick culminated with an a-cappella rendering of Bon Jovi’s Livin’ on a Prayer, to which the entire house sang along and following which May was accorded one of the most enthusiastic standing ovations ever seen at Just for Laughs.
This was not a one-time occurrence. May, who was moved to the show’s closing slot following that first night, has been bringing the house down and receiving thunderous ovations at Metropolis for the last week. He is likely to induce more hysteria for the final three nights of the Nasty Show this weekend.
JFL programmers have taken note of May’s success, adding him to the lineup for the Mega Stars of Comedy Gala, Saturday at 7 p.m. at Salle Wilfrid-Pelletier of Place des Arts. May will be letting loose alongside Lewis Black, JB Smoove and Danny Bhoy, among other heavyweights. Plus, he was booked to battle wits with other JFL standups in Jeff Ross’s ongoing (and sold-out) Roast Battle at L’Astral.
May is, not surprisingly, both overwhelmed and delighted with developments here.
Although he is one of the most in-demand comics on the continent (playing close to 150 dates a year), has released five standup specials in the last 10 years (including his most recent, Unruly, on Netflix) and was runner-up on the first season of Last Comic Standing, it has taken him a long time to finally crack the JFL lineup and to get noticed here.
No question, May is one of the breakout stars — if not the breakout star — of this year’s fest.
But the fact is May, 43, has been doing standup for 26 years. And the fact also is May had auditioned for the festival numerous times prior to getting his big break this year. (He was a lastminute call-up two years ago to fill in at a few Nasty Shows when one of the featured performers had to take leave.)
“I had actually auditioned here 12 times before and I got 12 ovations from the talent programmers following my auditions, but I never got asked to come,” drawls May. “I had always wanted to be a part of this — it’s the biggest comedy festival in the world.
“But better late than never,” adds the grinning May. “I’m just lucky to be in it. But I really have to give credit to the great audiences here. It’s a testament to them, not me. I’ve been doing the same stuff I always do. It’s been just so awesome that they’ve given me all these standing Os and chanting my name.”
Luck has nothing to do with it. May is a natural.
May was born in Chattanooga, Tenn., was raised in Arkansas, moved briefly to Texas and is now based in P.K. Subban-land, Nashville — and is a fan of that town’s hockey Predators.
“I’m so southern that I’m related to myself,” he cracks. “I’m actually my own cousin.”
Regardless, May doesn’t subscribe to the redneck school of chuckles. No confusing his wit and wisdom for that of the Duck Dynasty clan. No, his comedy inspirations were two late/great masters: fellow southerner Bill Hicks and Sam Kinison.
He was in his teens when he first hooked up with Kinison. May was attending high school and university simultaneously. Smart, to be sure, but rather disinterested with his education in either place.
“I didn’t like doing homework, because I didn’t want to be a drone. At first they thought I was slow, but it turned out my IQ was really high. Then they told me I was gifted. Still, I was bored.”
That’s when he got wind of an open-mic contest on radio. He entered the contest, which immediately got him pizza and beer and an adoring groupie. “And that’s how I got hooked on comedy at 17.”
Two weeks later, he won the contest and learned he was to open for Kinison and earn $500. “I was happy enough just getting the pizza, but this was too much,” he recalls. “I was so excited.”
On his way to the show with Kinison in a limo, the veteran comic advised May that if he got stuck during his act, he should just start swearing at the audience.
“Five minutes into my act and I’m stumbling around. Then I remembered what Sam said and I started swearing at the audience. And then 3,500 people in unison started booing me. I started to cry. Turns out Sam was setting me up.”
And so began May’s comedy odyssey.
“After getting kicked out of school and pursuing comedy for the first nine years, it looked like I had made the worst decision ever,” May says.
Things were to get worse. He would later develop double pneumonia and a pulmonary embolism. “I was basically drowning for 11 days in my own infection. It broke my mind. Not a lot of laughs there, but coming out of it was good.”
That wasn’t May’s first major medical issue. When he was 16, he was involved in a car accident in which he broke 42 bones and which left him in a wheelchair for nearly a year. He had been an allstate football player at the time.
As a result, his weight ballooned, to the 430 pounds he is today. “They say I’m way too healthy to be this weight — my cholesterol and blood pressure are really good. They say it’s because I haul all this weight around.”
Regardless, May suspects his girth may have kept him from getting some plum gigs.
“The funny thing is that I don’t really do fat jokes or see myself that way,” says May, the divorced dad of two kids. “I’ve never seen myself as a victim because of my physicality. If I did play that game, I wouldn’t be the comedian that I am.”
Which brings up the subject of Ward’s fine for targeting Gabriel. “All they’re doing is teaching this kid — who is a public figure — to be a victim. That’s the worst thing you can do to somebody.”
On that note, May has offered to do benefit concerts for Ward — “any time, anywhere, as many times as is needed” — to help pay his fine and legal fees.
“Mike is an artist. My attitude is that if they can take one of us, they can take us all. As soon as they impede on comedy, they’ve fractured the art. It’s like telling a painter: ‘Don’t use blue.’ Go tell van Gogh not to use blue in Starry Night. This all just blows my mind.”