FERGUSON HAS STRONG BOND WITH JFL
Comedian wrapping up his 60-stop New Deal Tour with two shows here
Some might be under the misconception that in the time since Craig Ferguson left the late-night shmooze-show circuit in December 2014, the fast-talking Scot has been in hibernation. Hardly.
Fact is Ferguson doesn’t know how to slow down. After wrapping his 10-year run as master of ceremonies on CBS’s the Late Late Show — now in the hands of the ever-crooning James Corden — he has served as host of Celebrity Name Game and, in February, launched his SiriusXM program the Craig Ferguson Show.
Plus, there is Ferguson’s ongoing standup career. Two years ago, he released his fourth comedy special, the Grammynominated Craig Ferguson: Just Being Honest. And can’t forget Ferguson’s 60-stop The New Deal Tour, which has taken him around the continent.
Ferguson, a serial Just for Laughs visitor, will bring The New Deal Tour to the fest at Monument National, July 29 at 7 and 9:30 p.m.
Ferguson, 55, is in a particularly frenzied state on the phone. That’s because he’s dodging vehicles darting in and out of lanes on the Los Angeles freeway. Many irate drivers are given to outbursts of expletives, and Ferguson is no exception; but given his penchant for profanity from his rough-and-tumble Glaswegian roots, he brings his disdain for drivers to a whole new level of blasphemy.
Ferguson first hit Just for Laughs 30 years ago as an unknown. Following a stint as a drummer for the punk ensemble the Bastards from Hell, he made his laff-fest debut in most edgy fashion under the pseudonym of Bing Hitler. He not only got away with it, he slayed.
Ferguson has never played it safe as a standup, but he had to learn to dial it down a tad on the tube. Which explains how he won the 2009 Peabody Award for Excellence in Broadcasting for his Late Late Show interview with Archbishop Desmond Tutu. He was also twice awarded the Daytime Emmy for outstanding game show host for Celebrity Name Game.
“We’re all such old codgers now,” he says. “We were once kids who just got our drivers’ licences. It’s kind of an odd feeling, but it’s great all the same. Montreal was the first place I played in North America, so I feel a very strong bond with the city and Just for Laughs.”
So much so that Ferguson has decided to wrap up The New Deal Tour with his two shows at Monument National next month. But he won’t be giving up his standup career.
“I’ve always loved doing standup, but it was a pity that while I was doing the Drew Carey Show (around the beginning of my career), I didn’t do it for eight years. I feel that I missed out a little bit. But when I started doing the late-night show, I would do a lot of standup, because I felt like it was a way for me to retain autonomy from the big, powerful network. I’ll always return to it, no matter what I’m doing.”
Ferguson goes on to talk about the material he focuses on: “Life experiences, personal stories … hold on a second … Jesus f-----.… Since the invention of the f---in’ smartphone, drivers have become dumber than anyone ever was in the history of the human f---in’ race! It’s unf--in’ believable.… So I guess my material is kind of me being as enraged as I’ve always been.
“Maybe it’s a little more cranky old man rage — 30 years ago, it was probably cranky young man rage. My stuff has always been personal — personal frustrations, kids who are grown up, relationships, weather, sex, religion, politics.”
All the same, Ferguson claims he doesn’t miss having a place to rant on the late-night front, where the pickings are plentiful and easy, thanks to the ramblings of The Donald in the Oval Office. As a result, late-night ratings have been going through the roof.
“I might have missed it a little when this stuff started, but as time goes on, you realize it’s like one of those all-you-can-eat buffets — and after a while, it just makes you feel sick. I would hate to be doing it right now. If I had been doing late night in the current political environment, I would have never been able to do such classics as the Latvian Independence Day monologue,” he quips.
“In one regard, this material may be good for the late-night hosts now. But in another regard, I don’t think I would like it at all, because it forces you to talk about the same f---in’ thing that everyone else is talking about all the time. It’s like fear pornography. To do a nightly show now would be just too restrictive for me. I think this would actually hinder creativity, not help it.
“If I were to do the Desmond Tutu interview now on late night, it would be politicized. The exact same interview now would not be met with the same kind of rapture, and I’m sure it would not have won me a Peabody today.”
The other problem, Ferguson acknowledges, is that political
material has a short shelf life, particularly over the course of a comedy tour or on a TV special.
“Comedy to me is not about what’s in fashion, and I’ve been doing it long enough that I get to do it the way I want, not the way fashion dictates.”
To alleviate pent-up angst, Ferguson still bangs away on his drums, but he has no plans to resume his music career.
“Being in a band when I was back then is like having a smartphone today. It was the 1980s version of having f---in’ Instagram.”
But if one really wants to get a rise out of Ferguson, just ask him what he thinks about his beloved Scotland bolting the United Kingdom.
“If you think I’m giving you a comment on that, so that it could be picked up in the Scottish press, you’re out of your f---in’ mind!” he hollers. “But I love Scotland and go back as often as I can.”
And is he treated like a national hero there?
“Do you know any Scottish people? We don’t do that kind of thing. Canadians are the same way. But I’m OK with that.”
Just being honest, again.