Martin Short

The comic legend on staying positive and Ed Grimley’s hidden charm

How has social distancing affected your mood?

I’m always kind of positive, so that isn’t a struggle for me at all. I think that’s DNA, upbringing, humor, perspective. I had early losses in my life; I lost my brother when I was 12, my mother at 17, and my father at 20. You either go up or down from those. And if you go up, you’re empowered for the rest of your life.

After spending so much time on the road with Steve Martin, on your joint comedy tours, what advice do you have for people in closer quarters than usual?

Steve and I don’t get sick of each other. We’re very similar in many ways. We treat each performance as if this is our last. And remember, when we’re on tour, it’s not like the Stones. We do four shows a month, and then we won’t do it for another month, so it’s more like going fishing with a buddy.

What is the best advice you’ve ever gotten?

My manager, Bernie Brillstein, would say, “It’s only show business, kid.” In other words, we’re not curing the illnesses that plague our planet; you’re doing something that will please some and won’t please others. I tell younger actors, “Don’t take it as seriously as you want to take it.” And that’s fine to say when you’re turning 70 and don’t worry about the rent, but it’s kind of true. If you’re 25 and you don’t get the part, you feel like you’re a failure. The reality is, 90 percent of the time, you were too short, too tall, too handsome, not handsome enough, too thin, too fat. Whatever they wanted, you weren’t it. Try not to take it too seriously.

Your good friends Gilda Radner and Paul Shaffer both got to Saturday Night Live years before you. What advice do you have about feeling happy for friends who are succeeding?

You have to impersonate a person who is happy for their friends succeeding, and maybe through osmosis it rubs off on you. I was always happy for my friends, but I couldn’t help but feel left behind at times during that period. And that’s good; that motivates you to be a better version of yourself.

You’ve said that you used your Ed Grimley character to mediate your marriage. Could that work for other marriages?

Well, it was a very bizarre thing. It’s completely true that [Short’s late wife] Nancy would say, “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I want to talk to Ed.” [ In Ed Grimley voice] “Hi, Nancy.” Because he was usually on her side. Ed would go, “What’s with him?” Humor punctures tension.

So you’d let Ed throw you under the bus?

Sure. I’m no fool. I probably caused the fight.

On Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee, you asked Jerry Seinfeld, “How do you know when you’re not funny anymore?” How would you answer that?

Well, Steve Martin has the best answer to that. He says, “You’re finished five years before you know it. Your agent doesn’t tell you. Your wife doesn’t tell you. Your friends don’t tell you. Finally, life tells you.”

Have you ever felt trapped by comedy?

Well, I’ve gotten to do lots of other kinds of acting. But I kind of feel honored to be able to make people laugh. I did a production of The Odd Couple, and I played that role of [straight man] Felix Unger. The reality is, you get bigger laughs if you’re sincere in the role. So, I’ve never felt unrequited in comedy, because I think that in comedy, if your acting is off, you’re not going to be funny.

You joked in your memoir, I Must Say, that you wanted your gravestone to read “Almost,” like you almost made it. Do you still feel that way?

Well, I’ve never suffered from low self-esteem. So if I made Clifford and no one liked it, to me, it wasn’t “I failed.” To me, it was “No one gets it.” So, “Almost” was a joke on the actual reality of superstardom versus stardom. At a certain point, if you hang around long enough, you’re revered. I used to say the other thing I’d put on the gravestone was “Who’s the witch I pissed off?”

Short is currently starring in animated Netflix film ‘The Willoughbys.’