For Seinfeld, Money Is Good, but the Joke Is Everything

“Writing,” according to comedian Jerry Seinfeld, “starts with just seeing things and saying ‘Oh, that’s stupid.’ And that’s something I was doing since I was a kid.”

Now he is 33 and still doing it, albeit with a bit more proficiency. Many who perform or closely follow comedy agree that Seinfeld is one of the top monologuists around, largely because--joke-for-joke--he is probably the best writer in stand-up right now.

He has such a clever command of language, such a wry way with words, that his setups are sharper than some comics’ punch lines. Introducing a bit on airport employees who inspect carry-on bags with the X-ray machine, for instance, he calls them “a crack squad of savvy, motivated individuals.”

This verbal flair has served him well. Seinfeld started doing stand-up after graduating from Queens College in New York in 1976 and has made a steady climb to the top of the funny business. Most comics in a position to be guests on “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” and “Late Night With David Letterman” tend to appear predominantly on one show or the other; Seinfeld is regularly invited on both.

During an interview at a frozen yogurt shop in Beverly Hills, he simultaneously acknowledged and downplayed the rarity of such double duty:

“Yeah, well it’s just a different sport jacket, really.”

His career has clicked to the point where he has been able to stop working weeks in clubs in favor of more lucrative, more prestigious one-nighters in larger venues (a point that lends considerable significance to the six-night stand he starts tonight at the Irvine Improv. It’s his only such engagement scheduled for 1988.) And not coincidentally, Seinfeld’s income is now into five figures--per week.

All of which poses a question: How does he manage to turn out such a high quantity of material distinguished by its high quality? Most comics carry a notebook, continually jotting funny lines and premises. Many set aside a specific time to write material. Some create, or at least expand, bits on stage. How does Jerry Seinfeld write a joke?

“I sit down and say, ‘Why is McDonald’s still counting burgers? Why?’ I think about that--that’s what strikes me funny. They’re the most successful food organization on the planet, and they’re still counting every burger.

“I mean, how insecure can you get? Then I think: ‘What is their ultimate goal--cows surrendering voluntarily?’

“So it just starts with something where you say, ‘What is going on here?’ And I love that, working on jokes. I love saying, ‘It’s kind of halfway there, but it needs more in the middle.’ . . . I’m fascinated by jokes.”

With all his experience, accomplishments and accolades, you would figure that every time he steps on stage, Seinfeld is certain he will deliver a great performance and elicit a great response. But you would figure wrong, he said, because no two audiences are the same, except that they are all enigmatic.

“Solving audiences is a big part of being a comedian,” Seinfeld explained. “An audience is a very tricky thing. It’s like cracking a safe. . . . To me, the whole thing is just fascinating, how audiences will respond different ways to different jokes. Just exactly what makes people laugh is an unsolvable mystery.”

But there must be certain jokes to help crack a crowd’s code, to get a quick fix on a group. “Yeah, there definitely are,” he said.

“They’re called ‘let’s-see-who’s-out-there’ jokes. Like that line about the people at the X-ray counter is a perfect example: ‘Here’s a crack squad of savvy, motivated individuals.’

“Laughing at that says something about your education, your income level, whether you’re snobby or blue collar. When an audience reacts to a joke, a laugh is not just a laugh. It has different breadth and different amplitude and different pitch. And you learn to interpret what those things mean.

“Certain laughs mean ‘That’s funny, but we don’t like the attitude.’ Or ‘You’re funny, but we don’t want to hear that kind of thing.’ Or ‘We love that kind of thing--do more of it,’ or ‘Make fun of people,’ or ‘Hey, it’s not nice to make fun of people.’ I can’t adjust perfectly to the audience. But depending on on how it’s going, I can pretty much move in any direction at any time.”

That’s no joke. With more than two hours of first-rate, Grade A material, Seinfeld really can segue in and out of an enormous assortment of topics. The Brooklyn native has fine bits about children and parents, as do many comics. But he also has a great piece about Halloween, some jokes on notary publics and Cub Scouts--even a bit about a sideshow guy who catches bullets in his teeth.

Not to mention various tales featuring animals personified with the warm, absurdist wit that suggests the way “Far Side” cartoonist Gary Larson would sound doing a stand-up.

And these represent just a portion of his act, which is gaining minutes all the time. In his most recent “Tonight Show” spot, in mid-January, he included some brand new bits, while his last “Letterman” set--two weeks ago--consisted of all new material, mostly tied to the Olympics.

“How anyone can be frustrated as a stand-up comic, I have no idea,” Seinfeld said. “It’s such a totally unrestrained form of self-expression. You can say anything you want.”

Ironically, one of the few criticisms leveled at Seinfeld springs from his reluctance to say certain things. There is a perception, in comedy circles, that he holds back, that he doesn’t tap into his pain or darker experiences the way the most affecting comics do. While his stuff is consistently clean, clever and funny, it is rarely revealing. So at the end of his show, you don’t really feel that you know Jerry Seinfeld any more than you did at the beginning.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, nodding. “That’s absolutely valid. But it’s not a fault of the comedy. It’s that my life is that shallow. There’s just not that much to it.”

But isn’t that a perfect example--skirting an important issue with a joke?

“No, no. Now, I would love to do poignant, affecting, deep, interesting things. But my life is really about ‘Why are they counting burgers?’ I swear that’s an accurate reflection of my life. My life is a fairly simple, innocent, little thing.”

Though he made an HBO special last year, Seinfeld has been “not interested” in pursuing acting jobs--unlike many of his peers who get antsy to parlay stand-up success into film and television roles.

He arrived at the interview from a meeting with people who wanted him to star in a sitcom. He felt it was too premature to discuss any details of the project, other than to say that those courting him were respected film figures venturing into TV.

But in the course of the conversation, he periodically weighed the pros and cons of accepting the project: “I think I have people’s respect for projects I don’t do. . . . I don’t want people coming up to me and saying, ‘What are you doing on that ?’. . . Don’t you feel bad when you see one of your favorite comics doing some (terrible) show? . . . The reason I haven’t gotten involved in anything like that before is because I’m more interested in the jokes than I am in being a star.

“On the other hand, if it looked like (the project involved) good people doing good work--that’s all you can ask for in this business. For me, at this point, the money in stand-up comedy is good enough that to do something else (primarily) for money would really be just pure greed.”

A few weeks after the interview, his publicist said Seinfeld had turned down the sitcom role, a decision that virtually had been telegraphed by Seinfeld’s final comments on accepting such projects:

“If anything, I’m trying to use the independence that I have to turn stuff down--not to get stuff. It’s not like ‘Gee, if I take this I could live in a decent apartment.’ I don’t have to do that.

“That’s the great thing about being a comedian--I’m my own man now. That’s my advantage against these people. They can’t buy me. There’s nothing I really want. I’m happy now, really happy.”

Tuesday-Thursday and Sunday, 8 p.m.; Friday, 8:30 and 10:30 p.m.; Saturday, 8 and 10 p.m. and midnight.

Improvisation, 4255 Campus Drive, Irvine

$10-$12.

Information: (714) 854-5455