"That Which Speaketh"
An Interview with the Simple Town Comedy Collective
Lucie and I were very pleased to interview our friends Felipe Di Poi, Ian Faria, and Will Niedmann, who create comedy with other writers and performers under the name Simple Town. This summer, the Simple Town collective wrote, produced, and acted in “That Which Speaketh,” a six-part surrealist sitcom about a religious family and their household obelisk. It premiered at Providence's AS220 in September. --Chelsea |
INTERVIEWER: First off, could you tell us a bit about who Simple Town is and what kind of work you make together? |
FELIPE DI POI: Simple Town is a collective of writers and performers and people who make movies and other kinds of media. We make comedy together as a group of three but we also try to include the work of other people under the banner.
IAN FARIA, WILL NIEDMANN: Sounds right. FDP: We've done a lot of work that is just the three of us but we've been making moves to make it wider. WN: Yeah—but still maintain the authoritarian center. FDP: Right. We try to create an illusion of democracy. Will and I had made work in high school and Ian and I have been making work throughout college. We thought that it was going to be a lasting partnership, so we figured that we would give it a name, and it would have a motor that way. |
INTERVIEWER: How did the idea for That Which Speaketh come to be? What was that process like? |
IF: We gathered a bunch of people whose work we admired, and then we told them we wanted to write something with them over the summer, not knowing what it was going to end up being. Becca [Zeiger], whom Felipe and Will went to highschool with, who goes to Bard, came here to work and to write with us, which was really exciting. Then Kent [Smith] and Sam [Lanier] came on a little later, and we all just worked together. Felipe and Sam both had some really good writing exercises. Two weeks of just sitting in a room every other day writing for hours at a time.
FDP: We had some [ideas] that we came with beforehand. For instance, we knew that we had only made things that looked like sketch comedy before—scenarios would be complete by the end of the single sketch. So we knew that we wanted to push ourselves to make something that had a narrative over time, with an arc and characters that changed. That was something that we came in with even before we started writing. WN: And we all set the parameter that we wanted to shoot on a single stage, because it felt producible and like something new. IF: Yeah, and it felt like it had its own world, or its own feeling. I think one of the things that I wanted out of the stage was—we talked a lot about this for [the 2015 video] Neighbor Kids, how we filmed it at the house we were living in, and it sort of felt like a home movie. Which is fine, I like that feeling. I didn't necessarily want it to feel professional, but I did like the idea that it would seem like it was from a different time and place, or seem like you didn’t fully know where it came from. FDP: I think also we were talking a lot about sitcoms, so in That Which Speaketh, while there are a lot of things about it that don't look like a sitcom, it is based on a family and it is done in a sound stage the way that sitcoms are. I think we pulled a lot from conventions about sitcoms—about the way that kids will fight with their parents, a lot of those things are pulled from that. Then another constraint that we had, because it was the first time that we expanded how many writers we had, was that we really wanted to find a way to write that could feel democratic, I guess, where everybody had input and could insert whatever voice they wanted to write in. So you can see that in the different episodes that there's different voices. Sam Lanier, for instance, is an actor, and he wanted to write long, sustained conversations between people. That was an example of a really clear point of view that we made space for. IF: Yeah, and Becca had a very different point of view, I thought she brought something different—like Becca had that scene, did she write the egg thing? FDP: Yeah. IF: Yeah, which I really like—it doesn't make me laugh from my gut, but it follows completely its own logic, and I really love that. That was totally the kind of thing she would write. |
INTERVIEWER: The episodes were each written by slightly different combinations of writers. How did group dynamics work when you were writing? |
IF: Well, we wrote the first episode, the longer one, before writing the other five, and then we all decided on what the general plot would be and what the show was going to be, and its subplots. Then we broke up in teams to write different scenes between characters we were either already playing or really committed to. We filmed the first episode and we left it on a cliff hanger, not knowing how to resolve what we wrote. After we filmed it, we wrote the other five, which was where people would break up into teams and then a pair of two people would write an episode.
FDP: We would come up with a general structure all together, and we would discuss it, and then once we had a whole thing in beats, we broke up and the actual words, the actual script, were written by two people generally. But we would come up with the whole idea and structure together. |
INTERVIEWER: What kind of other work do each of you do? How does your individual or more serious work relate to your comedy? |
IF: I majored in Animation at RISD but I didn't technically make any animations my senior year. I did some performance art and a lot of collaborative stuff where I was really into filming people from far away and giving them a lapel mic and having them interact with people or a space. And they could just talk and I could record everything they were saying, so that while they still felt removed, they felt personal, sort of intimate, like I was peering in on someone. So I guess my senior year I was definitely in trying to make funny work, but those projects weren’t strictly comedic in the sense that the stuff I make with Felipe and Will is.
WN: I don't really make other stuff besides comedy. I read books. FDP: Yeah, what about your— I feel like your academic [pursuits]-- WN: I'm very staunch about [my academic work and comedy] not interacting. In college people would be like, 'Oh, you should write like a funny essay about a book,' and I thought that was the most tasteless idea I'd ever heard of. FDP: Seinfeld and Marx. WN: Yeah. FDP: Well, but I do think that the things that you read, like the philosophy or the literary theory--all of that stuff is totally heard in your writing, a hundred percent. WN: Oh yeah, I do try to let it inform my work. I hate myself for saying this. FDP: No, but it's true! It's a fact. IF: I also see literature informing your work—I feel like you write stuff that just uses words I would never think to use, from like, shit that you've read in your 18th century books. And it's always really funny. WN: Felipe thinks that every plot was already done by Victor Hugo, and that's all he's interested in rehashing. FDP: It's the Bible, Victor Hugo, and “Breaking Bad.” Those are the stories left to tell in the West. IF: They're all about people leaving town, or-- FDP: Actually if you think about it, they're all about a son and a father, and that's what all Western culture is about. I make animation, and I like to think in animation terms. I think it's a vibe that I work with really well. Because I'm not as confident a performer, maybe. I think about everything in terms of filming actors as if they were cartoons. So, using a lot of cutting, or compositing, or pacing—a pacing that feels like cartoons, that feels impossible, that feels super-human. I think that cartoon thinking is big for how I work—at least when we make videos. IF: That's definitely a place where we differ, too, I think, sometimes, but in a good way. FDP: What do you mean? IF: Just that while I don't think I make super slow work, it's definitely stuff that's not nearly as fast-paced as yours. And usually in my personal work, I like it when you’re not sure whether you should be laughing or not, or if the material is sort of walking this weird line between funny and also not funny at all. |
INTERVIEWER: So Will, you studied literature? |
WN: Yeah, I studied literature.
FDP: What's that grin! |
INTERVIEWER: You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. |
WN: I don't even know what I would say. Books are good.
FDP: Do you feel that way? I don't know, that feels like a disservice to how you think. [Your academic work and your comedy] seem related; I'm wondering why you're hesitating to combine them. Do you think it feels self-important? WN: I think that drawing [connections] between them sometimes does, because literature holds a different place [from comedy]. Literature inhabits an academic space and it's as if it’s thus ‘higher’ or more important or of more gravitas. So drawing [connections] between literature and comedy feels self-important. FDP: To say something like, 'I take from the academy for this low-art thing that I do—' WN: Yeah. But here's what I can say. When we were writing [That Which Speaketh], I remember thinking about what a novel can do, and how that can work on screen in a movie. |
INTERVIEWER: How did you all get started writing sketch comedy? |
FDP: I remember [in high school] Will and I read this handout that was meant for people who were in the NYU sketch troupe called the Hammerkatz—they had this handout that I guess got passed on through every generation of this troupe, and it had this whole thing about “game” and other sketch terminology. And then between freshman and sophomore year of college we did this Public Access Television show called the Paul Fresia Show, which felt like sketch comedy. So when we did Neighbor Kids, it didn't feel like such a departure from what we had been doing because we were always talking in terms of game and beats. And we'd watched a lot of sketch. IF: I never wrote comedy in high school or anything, I would maybe make funny videos with my friends, but it never felt like something I would ever want to dedicate a huge chunk of my life to-- WN: And money. IF: That's what I was thinking. I just didn't say it, but yeah, I never thought it would be taking so much money. And then, freshman year, I was in a Spatial Dynamics class, which was a sculpture class, and I was really bad at it. But it was a required course and so I would find every avenue to make videos that I could, because I found that if I made a funny video then people wouldn't critique me as hard. FDP: They're like, 'He's simple, but...' WN: 'Oh, it's the little funny boy!’ |
INTERVIEWER: Among the various genres of comedy, what do you prefer and how do you pick which ideas to put into what form? |
WN: I like fictional stuff. I did stand up a couple of times and didn't love it because it felt like for me, as a white guy, there was less potency for me to say something that was important. Whereas if I make up a fictional world or write characters, I feel like there's more opportunities for the jokes to rest on things that are progressive or political.
IF: I have performed stand up once or twice, and I'd like to try doing it more. But I'm much more interested in writing. And if I've ever acted in my comedy, it's usually been because of limited resources. I like writing short stories. FDP: I think that we have certain skills that enable us to have the confidence to be like, 'We could try and do this [genre],' and so when we started doing sketch, we thought, 'We could probably do it.' It wouldn't be the perfect sketch because we've never done it before, but it would be us doing sketch. There's also simple considerations like, if you make a video, more people can see it. But what I really like about live things is that making people laugh and learning how to do that is like the gym a little bit, it's the hardest. Because with a video, [the viewer] can sometimes take a break, or put it on and sort of sit back, and the video sort of performs for them. But learning to interact with an audience live and making them laugh live... IF: Or change the pacing of a sketch by feeling out the audience. FDP: Yeah. If I’ve ever pushed to do live, it's because I feel like there's something to be learned in making someone laugh live that then you can bring into something that's filmed or written. |
INTERVIEWER: It sounds like your creative process is very organic and internal. But do you draw inspiration from any other comedy groups or comedians? |
FDP: Euripides!
IF: Shakespeare! FDP: Shakespeare! Oh wow, I think about him every day. WN: Eric Andre, Broad City. IF: The State. FDP: Mr. Show. We were also watching Ernie Kovacs, who's an old-timey comedian... WN: ...a 1950s surrealist comedian. FDP: When we were writing That Which Speaketh, there were a couple of sitcoms that kept coming back up. Maybe Full House, actually. IF: I really admire the writing on Seinfeld... FDP: I've never seen Seinfeld. IF: We should really stop the interview right now. |
INTERVIEWER: When beginning a project, do you decide collectively what inspiration you'd like to work from, or are you all approaching the process from different reference points? |
WN: In the writers' room we did talk about having a common inspiration. There were efforts at sharing videos and having everyone watch them.
FDP: We watched one Third Rock From the Sun, which didn't go very well. IF: Oh, that was the worst. WN: It's not like something bad happened related to the show, but... FDP: It's very sexist. IF: It's super sexist. We were all so excited because we we thought, 'We're going to watch a quirky sitcom together.' And then it was just really upsetting. FDP: Yeah, really uncomfortable. |
INTERVIEWER: You’ve touched on the misgivings you have about your positionality in comedy. How do you feel about being a group of white men writing comedy? |
IF: Not great.
WN: We think about it a lot. IF: I don't think I'd feel nearly as comfortable being a white guy writing comedy with two other white guys, if it weren't these specific two white guys. Because they think about it all the time. And so I feel a little less worried than I might be otherwise that we're taking up too much space or doing something offensive. FDP: I think That Which Speaketh was a move we made in that direction. Originally the idea was to expand and a big part of it was that we wanted to get more women writing. I think ideally we could be even more inclusive. WN: I think we also think about what sort of characters we can play and what our boundaries are with our bodies in space. I think a lot about playing a patriarchal dad who's really aggressive and shitty, which is a type that we've done. I just go back and forth on if that's moving in the right direction, because you're making fun of that type, or if you're reaffirming this stereotype that does become reality. IF: Yeah, I'm not interested in 'pushing the boundaries' in the spirit of some comedians like Anthony Jeselnik, who does material like, 'Okay, what I’m saying is racist, but come on, everyone’s thinking it!’' I'm not interested in that at all. FDP: Like we aren’t interested in being politically incorrect to see how far we can get with being politically incorrect... WN: ...To be quote-unquote 'edgy.' FDP: We like to do progressive pushing the envelope. |
INTERVIEWER: What makes comedy feel important to you? |
WN: Because people laughing at you is a great feeling. That's why I started and I assume that's why we all started.
FDP, IF: Yeah. WN: And then on top of that, making up stories and making up characters and worlds is fun. IF: I had zero friends in high school until I could maybe make people laugh at lunch. That was the only way I formed any bonds with anyone. And being able to watch something that makes me laugh has helped me out so much in my life. It feels like such a simple thing, just that laughter can be so good. And so to make people laugh feels like such a good thing, in a way where I feel like it's actually helpful to other people, as self-serving as it also is. FDP: I think "important" is a hard word, especially in light of having a conversation about politics. It sounds self-important, but [comedy] does fall under the category of “important” to me. But is it as important as other things? That word feels loaded—I don't know if I could say something like, 'Laughter will get us closer to understanding or to justice.' That's something I'm still figuring out. But I do like the sentiment of, ‘people laughing at you is important,’ because it's very honest in the sense that it's important to me. It's something that I like to do and I keep wanting to do it. It feels like a challenge and it feels like there's going to be something that comes out of it. But "important" is a tough word for that reason. IF: Yeah. When I say "important," I don't mean to say that comedy is more or less important than anything else. But I do mean that it has a personal importance to me that feels undeniable because of how happy it makes people. |
Felipe Di Poi is a fifth-year student in the Rhode Island School of Design/Brown University Dual Degree program majoring in Film/Animation/Video and Comparative Literature.
Ian Faria is a recent graduate of the Rhode Island School of Design, where he majored Film/Animation/Video with a concenration in the Literary Arts.
Will Niedmann graduated from The New School with a degree in Literature in 2015 .
All episodes of “That Which Speaketh” can be viewed here. Other work by Simple Town can be viewed here.
Ian Faria is a recent graduate of the Rhode Island School of Design, where he majored Film/Animation/Video with a concenration in the Literary Arts.
Will Niedmann graduated from The New School with a degree in Literature in 2015 .
All episodes of “That Which Speaketh” can be viewed here. Other work by Simple Town can be viewed here.