Bruce McCulloch is one of Canada’s most well-known comedians, most notably for his work on the hit sketch TV comedy series Kids in the Hall, but also for his work in film both as a writer and director (Dog Park, Superstar, Stealing Harvard). Currently traveling through western Canada with his latest standup show, Young Drunk Punk, detailing his rowdy days growing up in Alberta, McCulloch took some time out of his busy schedule to talk to Nexus about the bad choices, drunken fights, and peaceful resolutions that make up his latest stage production.
Hey, Bruce. How’s your day going?
Good. I’m at home, prepping feverishly for the show.
So are you listening to some old punk records while you’re getting ready for it?
No, I listen to the laughter of children outside my door. And it’s actually not laughter, it’s crying, but I want to construe it as laughter because it’s easier.
Tell me a little bit about the show. It sounds like you’re going back to your glory days and reliving some memories?
Well, yes and no. It’s kind of about how a guy from a weird family in Alberta became an old man living in the Hollywood hills with two kids who are always yelling at him. I’ve been interested in how we become who we are, and how I became who I was, so it references punk, but it’s punk in the spirit of trying to figure out who we are, which we all do. So it’s a show, but also a night of comedy. And my friend Craig Northey from [Canadian rock band] The Odds plays on stage with me!
So is the music portion of the show songs that you’ve already had from before or…?
Well, it’s a mixed thing. I have a couple of records, which is what we used to call them, so there are a couple of things that weave in from those, and there’s a new song I wrote. The music serves as the score for poems and stories that I have, so it sort of weaves in and out in what I hope is a tasteful manner.
What’s been the reaction to the show so far?
It’s been pretty good. That’s why I’m doing more shows, because it felt really good the first time around. It’s pretty fun to still be able to do this after all these years.
When you think back on your early days in Alberta and being a young punk, what kind of memories come back?
Well, I was kind of a young jerk trying to figure out who I was. You know, getting into fights and actually getting beat up. Although, getting into fights implies that I threw some punches. But it’s also interesting that I found a few people along the way and went somewhere else in my life, and now I want to revisit all of that.
Some of the characters you played on Kids in the Hall, like Sid, the alley fighter, and Grivo, your parody of [metal rocker] Glenn Danzig, seem to be inspired by those times. Do any of them come back into the show?
No, I don’t play characters in the show. I tell stories… about my stupid life.
And it seems like you have a lot of material?
I certainly do [laughs].
When you first started putting this show together, did you have to go to some friends to fill in the pieces or did it all come flooding back?
I have a freakish memory for certain things I’ve been through, for whatever reason. Of course, I don’t know my own cell number, but I can remember everything that happened 20 years ago.
Are there any morals or messages to the show?
Well, as comedians we don’t like to have morals. If people come away with stuff, that’s fine. People have said that it’s cool that the angry young man who they grew up with on TV is now a middle-aged dad in his pajamas. But, for me, and most everyone I knew, we all crawled out of crappy families and somehow now I’m holding together a better one, so that’s my personal victory. When I first started doing Kids in the Hall I just thought I was this lonely guy, but as I started communing with the people who liked our work, there was a lot of us out there. So that’s what the spirit of the show is, theoretically…
Do you have any major regrets or major mistakes that you made when you were younger?
Oh, thousands of them. Literally thousands. I always laugh when people say they don’t have any regrets. I’ve had mostly a lucky life, but there’s the odd broken bottle, or heart, or Toyota Corolla, along the way.