Things Start to Jell After ‘Jam’ Session

“ED-DIE! ED-DIE! ED-DIE!!”

The yells and cheers greeted the slim, young African-American comic as he strutted on stage at the sold-out Wiltern Theatre.

Several other comedians had preceded him that evening in a touring version of HBO’s “Russell Simmons’ Def Comedy Jam,” but it was clear from the loud standing ovation that the night belonged to “Ed-die.”

Even though the language was coarse and there were similarities in style, this comedian was not the famous “Ed-die” of motion pictures and “Saturday Night Live” fame. No, this was Eddie Griffin of Kansas City, Mo., and several prominent show-business figures are predicting that the 25-year-old may become just as famous as Eddie you-know-who.

Griffin’s ascension is due largely to his six-minute performance last season on “Def Comedy Jam” where he won over the audience with his dancing impression of “Michael Jackson on Crack.”

And on this recent evening at the Wiltern, he was Eddie Griffin Raw.

* “Did you catch the Clarence Thomas-Anita Hill hearings? Black-on-black crime at the highest level!”

* “They turned the Rodney King beating into a television show.” In a mock announcer voice, he continued: “We’ll be showing the Rodney King beating tonight at 7:30, 8:30, 9:30. We’re whippin’ his ass just for you.”

* “But the brother is getting paid--$1 million for every blow!! $56 million!! I’m doing 300 miles an hour in a Volkswagen, yelling out the window, ‘---- the police!!! ---- all you badge-carrying (expletive). Come over here, whup my ass, gimme my cash!’ ”

Stan Lathan, co-executive producer of the “Def Comedy Jam” television show, said of Griffin’s performance that evening: “All these great people came out and did great things. Then Eddie just came on at the end and took it to another level.”

Griffin is still moving to the next level, even though he has only been doing stand-up for three years. He will star in his own HBO “One Night Stand” premiering Aug. 16. He has a development deal with HBO for future projects. He has been mentioned as a possible future host for “Def Comedy Jam.”

He said in an interview last week that he is not totally surprised by the attention: “I’m a little surprised, but I don’t think anyone would ever get into this business unless they thought they were going to make it some day.”

Griffin described his style as a combination of Richard Pryor, Robin Williams and Bill Cosby. Also evident is a sharp black sensibility that recalls the Richard Pryor of the 1970s, who based much of his comedy on his rage over racism.

“Some might call my style pro-black, but I think of the basis of all my material as truth,” said Griffin, who wears oversized berets, shorts and high-tops on stage. During his Wiltern performance, one leg of his shorts read “Fight the Power” while the other leg simply read “X.”

“It’s like cause and effect,” Griffin continued. “I look at the riot and see what caused that. I see Michael Jackson’s face is all jacked up, and I say, ‘What is the cause of that?’ ”

He added that he was just part of a new breed of African-American comedians who were taking a closer look at their surroundings and neighborhoods.

“Five years ago, black comedy had gotten cutesy, but now it’s going back to the grass roots,” he said. “It’s going back to what’s happening in the streets, just like Richard talked about. Black youth are having new experiences. In the 1970s, you could walk in your neighborhood, no matter what, without looking over your shoulder. No more. There’s new characters in that neighborhood to talk about.”

However, he said his comedy is less angry than Pryor’s. “Comedy is a tool to be used so that people can relate to each other,” he said. “If I can relate the black experience to white people, then they can understand us better and not be so afraid.”

But until three years ago, Griffin wasn’t thinking about talking or relating, at least on stage. He was too busy running a dance studio in Kansas City, teaching “street” and jazz dance.

He and his cousin went to Stanford and Sons club in the local area during an “open mike” night, and his cousin dared him to get on stage. He talked for 33 minutes about high school, friends, his family. He said the audience loved him, but the manager subsequently barred him from the club because he thought Griffin was a professional passing as an amateur.

Hooked by the response, Griffin started practicing at “redneck” bars and jazz clubs in the area: “I figured if I could make those people laugh, I could make anyone laugh.”

Months later, although he was broke, he came to Los Angeles and managed an audition at the Comedy Store. He impressed owner Mitzi Shore and was hired as a doorman and a paid regular.

“It’s very unusual for a comic to grow as fast as Eddie did,” Shore recalled. “He was a totally dedicated artist. He would stay at the club all night and observe everyone, watch everything.”

Griffin said he now wants to perfect his craft, act in movies, even direct: “I’ve got a lot to do.”