Comic Havey Is Now Sure of Himself--and His Audience

Spend an hour watching a performance by comedian Allan Havey and you develop certain assumptions.

Spend an hour talking with Havey, and he blows holes in most of those assumptions.

His television credits include a handful of visits to “Late Night With David Letterman” and a much-coveted spot on last year’s “HBO Young Comedian’s Special.” And while those credentials don’t fully convey the magic he can generate live--on his best nights, he’s as good as anyone working clubs--you figure that with that kind of track record, this is a guy who’s long had a singular drive to be comedian.

Not so, says Havey, who headlines tonight through Monday at the Irvine Improvisation.

“I kind of backed into comedy,” he said, noting that the move was really an offshoot of pursuing his first love: theater. When he was studying acting at Florida State University, “people said, ‘You have a great sense of humor; you should go into stand-up comedy.’ ”

“But it just never appealed to me.”

When he finally did try stand-up in Florida, he promptly quit--for two years. And after moving to New York several years ago, he gave it another go--and quit again for eight months.

Havey, 33, explained that he turned his back on stand-up partly because of the “politics” involved in trying to get started at top New York clubs (including the Improv there), but also because “it intimidated me. . . . I was just scared.”

It’s difficult to reconcile that frightened Havey with the guy who--seven years after deciding to try stand-up for a third time--is now a poised, confident performer, equally sure of himself whether drawing on prepared bits or chatting with the crowd.

His shows tend to combine large portions of both, although last May, appearing at the Comedy Cellar in New York, he spent almost the entire set talking to the audience--and absolutely killed .

Which brings us to another erroneous (or at least incomplete) assumption: That, like most comics who are exceptional at interacting with the crowd, the skill grew out of emceeing shows during his formative stand-up years.

Emceeing was a factor. The primary explanation, though, is not only less typical but more poignant: “My father died about four years ago, and after that, my attitude changed a lot on stage.

“I started giving more, making (my act) more personal. Instead of just getting up there and reciting material, I was into it more and then I would get out into the crowd more. I became much more aggressive over a period of two years.”

Sitting in his room at a West Hollywood hotel, Havey pulled on his cigarette, then elaborated on the connection.

“Fortunately, I got to spend a lot of time with him in Florida while he was sick and I looked at him and thought, ‘Life is very short and someday I’m going to be in the same situation as my dad.’ And I want to be able to say I did exactly what I wanted to do, and not worry about what other people thought. Because I was raised very middle-class Catholic, always to make the right impression. And in comedy that’s what it is: What other people think of you. So I stopped worrying about the audience and saying more what I felt was funny--not that I didn’t care what they thought, but not working them, not saying ‘Oh, this has got to be for them.’

“It’s got to be for you and if you believe it and it’s from your gut, the audience will buy it. Because they’re like dogs: If they smell any kind of phoniness or fear, they’ll turn on you.”

Coincidentally, his next step down the career path also is tied to the serious impact of one person’s death upon another.

He has a significant role in “Checking Out,” a film written and directed by David Leland, whose previous credits include “Wish You Were Here” and “Mona Lisa.” Havey describes “Checking Out” as a black comedy about a young man (played by Jeff Daniels) who becomes a highly panicked hypochondriac when his best friend since childhood (played by Havey) suddenly dies at age 34.

A HandMade Film (the company is owned by George Harrison, who makes a cameo appearance), it’s tentatively set for a late-fall release. Making a film at this point is yet another assumption-defying feat on Havey’s part: comics at his level usually are vying for roles in TV sitcoms or, at best, movies far more laden with high jinks than this one seems.

Meanwhile, Havey continues turning assumptions inside out.

- Assume that in discussing a rather flat set he did most recently on “Letterman,” Havey might perceive it in rosier terms, or lay blame elsewhere. Nope. He acknowledged that the performance didn’t click and seemed comfortable in accepting all the blame (though he quickly added, “If it had been my first set on ‘Letterman,’ I’d be like in a fetal position right now.”)

- Assume that like contemporaries with similar credits, he’d be a road warrior, working upward of 40 weeks a year at clubs across the country, where he can now command significant dough. Nope. Havey said he travels 10 to 12 weeks a year, preferring to hone his act and material in the less lucrative showcase clubs around New York.

- Assume that, wherever he’s performing, he’d feel more at ease if there were friends or family members in the audience. Nope. “I’d rather play in front of a roomful of strangers,” he said. “It makes me uncomfortable when I have friends or family or my girlfriend come to shows, ‘cause I’m aware that they’re in the audience.”

What’s wrong with that?

“I get very self-conscious.”