Episode #408
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Subhah Agarwalis a bicoastal writer and stand-up comedian who grew up outside of Chicago, where she first started hitting open mics while still in high school. Subhah has written for Comedy Knockout on TruTV, The Jim Jefferies Show on Comedy Central, and Arsenio Hall’s live 2022 talk show for Netflix. She made her late-night TV debut telling jokes on NBC’s A Little Late with Lilly Singh, and acted in shows such as Westworld and General Hospital. She has released her first comedy album, “Dog Show,” via Blonde Medicine, and sat with me to talk about explaining her comedy career to her immigrant parents, breaking out of the open mic scene, writing for other comedians, and finding her own voice.
Here’s a track from “Dog Show” to set the scene for you!
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I don’t know what to congratulate you on first: Your comedy album, “Dog Show,” or your upcoming nuptials?
Thank you. The wedding is definitely more stressful. So I’ll take it.
Is it because, you know, the album came out a week ago as we’re speaking right now. And I know for some comedians, releasing an album even in 2022 is super stressful because there’s this push — that you’ve gotta market it, that you’ve got to hit a certain number on the Apple charts, so you can screenshot it and all that stuff. Did you stress out about that, or no?
I think I’ve just been doing it long enough and experienced so much failure that, I don’t know. I don’t care. I actually do have a screenshot. That reminds me, I need to post that screenshot. The label was nice enough to take that for me, and I’ve been so distracted. I totally fucking spaced but no, I should. I guess there is that pressure because you want it to do well, but like I said, I’m just so used to things not going well that I was like, OK. Well, I hope so?
So between the comedy and the upcoming wedding, which of those events are your parents more proud of?
Oh, for sure, the wedding. Not even a question.
I know there’s a running joke, both on the album and within your comedy itself that you’re still trying to sort of explain to your mom, what it is you do for a living?
Yeah. I mean, she still doesn’t fully know. I mean, I don’t even think I know half of the time. She’s like: What are you working on? And I’m like: I don’t know, probably a lot of nothing. But yeah, cuz she doesn’t follow comedy so it’s hard for her to see it as a career just because it is so unstable. It isn’t the way most careers work where it’s like, oh, you get x number of credits, or you put in this number of years and then you’re pretty much guaranteed to work like this. Whereas with this career, you could like, have the most credits you’ve ever had, and be doing the best you’ve ever done. And all of a sudden, no one’s returning your emails for no reason. And you’re just sitting here like, what? So I completely understand where she’s coming from. And then I’ll get excited about like, Oh, I got to shoot this indie film. And then she’s like, Oh, that’s great. And then like a month later, I’m not working on it, and she’s like, What are you doing now? And I’m like, nothing. You know what I mean?
You’ve got a spot at The Glendale Room. Doesn’t that count for something?
Exactly, there’s just so much like starts and stops and I’m like, I don’t even really know what I’m doing half of the year. So I get it.
And to think you talk about how the measuring sticks for a comedian are different. I feel as though, even though you’ve been doing this for more than a decade, those measuring sticks have all completely changed even just since you started.
Yeah, yeah, it’s pretty insane. I guess I probably would have loved it for a different reason. But it is definitely not what I signed up for.
When you did sign up for it. You were still in high school right? When you were growing up. What was the landscape like then in suburban Chicago, in the early, late aughts, early 10s, I guess”
I think I started 2007, I believe.
That was a really big time in Chicago for young comedians.
Yeah, I mean, I was so young though. I didn’t get to do anything cool. Because I could like barely get into any of the bars and stuff. I was still living with my parents and going to high school. And I was terrible. Of course, I was 17 and I didn’t have shit to say so I was very bad. So I didn’t get to do a lot of like cool Chicago stuff. I just did like, you know, like I banged around open mics for a little bit before I went to college.
(so she didn’t get to overlap with the Kumails or Hannibals and their friends)
So who was there that you could kind of look to is like your own sort of measuring stick of like, Oh, they’re doing something that I want to be doing in a couple of years. How do I get to that?
In a couple of years? I think like my goals were more long-term if that makes sense. So I was just looking at, like what I came up watching was Comedy Central Premium Blend, that throwback. Like those types of specials. So to me in my head, that was the measuring stick of success: Get a special on Comedy Central. And go on tour. I didn’t really have a plan beyond that. Whereas like now, everything is so much more social-media focused, which is weird, but it is what it is.
But when I first met you, I don’t remember the first time I met you. I remember becoming aware of you. I would have seen you at The Creek and The Cave, the first iteration of The Stand, and I remember somebody describing you to me as the hardest working open mic’er in the city.
Yeah, which is like such a backhanded compliment. Because people even when I stopped doing open mics would be like, Oh, look, it’s the queen of the open mics and I was like, Don’t ever say that.
I guess people probably said the same thing about Mike Lawrence a few years before you, and then he turned it into like winning Roast Battles and lucrative writing career, so it’s not like it’s that backhanded?
Yeah, it’s just funny, because open mics are what you should do when you first start 1,000% It’s how you cut your teeth and get really good, but nobody wants to stay an open miker. So then when you keep getting called that you’re like, No, I made it out.
NOTE: Here she was NINE YEARS AGO describing the open-mic scene in Scott Moran’s “Modern Comedian” webseries.
You’re saying this to someone at The Stand, which is an actual club with actual shows and actual money, paying you to do this. How much of that was just having a solid work ethic about comedy, versus how much of it is, dare I say, pushing up against the difficulties of not being a white man in comedy?
When I was younger, I was very naive. And I kind of thought everything was a meritocracy, especially like a lot of kids of immigrants, you’re raised to think that if you put your head down and you work hard, you’ll get success, you will be rewarded. You just have to work hard, you just have to be talented enough, which isn’t how entertainment works. So I knew I had a long way to go. And I was harder on myself. I was more talented than I gave myself credit for but I still knew I especially being like 17-19 years old, like I had work to do. And I just wanted to be great. I remember watching Maria Bamford, and Bill Burr — especially Bill Burr, because his specials were dropping every couple years and every time it came out, it was just so fucking solid. And Wanda Sykes and their stand-up, and just being blown away by what they created. And I’m like, if I want to get to the place where I’m creating what they’re creating, I have to work really fucking hard, because I never thought I was that good. I’m like, I’m just gonna have to work extra hard. And so I thought, you know, just get good enough, just get talented enough. It’s that same immigrant mentality, and then the success will come to you. But NOPE. So I think that’s a lot of what drove my work ethic. It was self-hatred, aspiring to be great.
Is it then too on the nose that one of your first big breaks was a show called Comedy Knockout where you’re fighting for your spot on the show?
I know. That was so funny. I was not ready to be on TV then. Some people have both, but for a long time I was a stronger writer than I was performer, and then I later caught up those chops. But being hyper competitive and not OK with failure, putting me in that situation onscreen, I was taking everything way too seriously and way too personal. Which is just not what the audience wants to see. Not for that show. It’s goofy and it genuinely doesn’t matter. Winning that show didn’t fucking matter. The audience didn’t care. They just wanted to have fun. It’s like getting really upset that you didn’t win Wipeout or…whatever goofy-ass game — the stakes could not have been lower. There was no prize money, there was nothing attached to it.
@midnight was slightly lower?
But it’s a similar thing. When you’re not having fun, the audience is like, oh, this is uncomfortable, and I was definitely taking it too seriously. But I had written so many jokes, and I had submitted so many jokes to be on the show, that they hired me as a writer. Because they were like, oh, you can write a joke. I mean, you don’t need to be onscreen again. But you know how to write a joke.
So you were onscreen first before you got the writing job?
Yeah.
Oh, I thought it was the other way around.
I auditioned for it. I mean, I wasn’t awful, but I just wasn’t doing what they wanted, if that makes sense. So yeah, and then I got hired as a writer. And I wrote there for a couple of years.
Was that when you were able to quit your day jobs or were you working? So what was the day job? What was the last day job?
I worked at the Apple Store selling stuff.
Was that better or worse than working at a call center? Or working as a clown on a party boat?
Well, the call center actually was in the Apple Store, so definitely better than working as a clown on a boat, though. Because yeah, I had benefits. So that was nice.
As an actuary, you could game it all out as to what what career is better for you, right?
Exactly. I was like, we need health insurance.
Wait, so but if you study like actuary stuff, actuary tables then you already know the calculus going in of like what your life looks like as a comedy writer/performer and you still choose it anyway.
I mean, I think you’re giving me way too much credit. I do want to make a mathematical model but no, I did not have a lot of common sense. And like the thing is, I didn’t know any of the other like parts that come with being a comedian where it’s like, Oh, if you do stand up comedy, you’re also going to be writing for TV shows. You’re going to be asked to act in TV shows. So I hadn’t like prepared because like when I first started, all I wanted to do was stand-up comedy, and then I didn’t understand that you needed the other bits to like actually have a career and make money and be successful and it’s like, exceptionally rare to just do stand-up. And that like 15 years later, I might actually want to do the other stuff. So yeah, I didn’t know what I was doing.
Was there a time though, where you thought you might be able to have a career just working clubs on the road?
Yeah, when I first started, that’s what I was aiming for. I was just trying to get as good as possible so I could get a special and then tour. So that was like my only goal.
And just play the Improvs twice a year and play the Funny Bones.
Exactly.
Do you know anybody who’s able to do it that old fashioned way now?
I mean, I’m sure there are always road dogs. They’re just not doing well. That’s not a lot of money.
That’s why I ask, because I don’t know how many people are still doing it.
People still do it. But it’s a fucking rough life, because like all that travel is really hard on your body. And then it’s not like you’re traveling in a private jet. You’re traveling in a used Toyota Corolla. And for dinner you had squeeze cheese, so like it’s not glamorous, it’s really fucking rough. If you’re like an old-school Road Dog, and then there are and then there of course there’s the new type of touring now which is people with giant social media followings where, if they had like a hit podcast or like, just went super viral on TikTok or whatever, and then they’re touring, but it’s still a little bit different, because then they can also like mix in theaters or get better deals.
Those people are generally doing more one-nighters than full six show weekends.
Some are. Yeah, it depends. But yeah.
When you were sticking to the clubs, did you have any headliners who became your mentors or took you out on the road with them?
Unfortunately not, which was kind of a huge bummer. And I do think that happens for a mix of reasons. I know a lot of dudes don’t want to take — not a lot, but there are dudes who don’t want to take female comedians with them because they don’t want it to look bad or they have like a jealous wife or girlfriend, and then sometimes are dudes who do want to take you on the road with them because they are creeps, so that’s not all of them, but that already knocks off two categories of male headliners. I did have that eventually with Marina Franklin, who is a really incredible headlining comic based out of New York. She would take me with her sometimes, but she also at that time was like mostly working the Cellar. She wasn’t on the road that much. So yeah, I think Marina has been the only one who’s done that. Well, OK, well what are you gonna do?
Well, that’s when you end up getting more TV jobs, right? I mean, you’ve got to find that income somewhere.
Yeah.
When did you decide to make the move to LA? I know you kind of go back and forth. But when was that first decision?
The Jim Jefferies Show was based out here, and they hired me to be a writer. So I came over for that. Maybe like 2017-16, somewhere around there, and then after the show ended I was developing something didn’t go and then the pandemic hit. And then I’ve been like bouncing around not knowing what the fuck I’m doing. Since then, so, yeah.
What did you learn from that first TV job from being on set? I got to interview Jim while the show was in production, so I know the lot you were on. What did you learn from just having a regular TV job?
I would say probably having to pitch your own jokes was the steepest learning curve for me. Because at Comedy Knockout I didn’t have to do that. You just wrote them and then the head writer picked. Being in the room during punch up having to pitch and fight for your own ideas, like especially somebody who had such like cripplingly low self-esteem. It was brutal. Nobody likes performing for other stand up comedians, and that’s essentially what you’re doing at that job. It’s like a bunch of comedy writers and you have to sit there and actually deliver your joke, the way you want it to be read for these people. And it’s just like, God, it was so fucking embarrassing, but it’s the only way to get your ideas on the show. So I had to like get over myself and be like, if you want this job, and if you want to get more jokes in the scripts, you better speak up and fight for it because otherwise that shit ain’t gonna happen.
How did your sensibilities line up with Jim’s?
My job as a comedy writer is to write for his voice. And Jim has a very distinct voice. So that wasn’t like a hard switch. I think it’s harder when you’re writing for a public figure that doesn’t necessarily have a defined comedy voice. When you’re doing late-night variety and the person hosting is like an actor or whatever, and they don’t have a comedic voice for you to write to, then I feel like it’s a lot of trial and error before you kind of get a feel for what they like. But, Jim, it was just pretty, pretty easy to tell.
Although probably not as easy as Arsenio.
Yeah, oh man that was great. Arsenio was wonderful, because like you’re always scared when you meet like a legend that they’re gonna suck and he was the nicest human being I’ve ever met. I was blown away. Man, this is the coolest person.
That was such a unique gig, right? Because you’re talking about like, a late-night icon, who’s coming back but not for a full series. It’s for a limited run. That’s part of a giant comedy festival. That’s also sort of trying to be live but not really live. So that these different things going on. Which probably makes it like fun, but also high pressure.
I mean, it is but it isn’t, because it’s not like oh, they’re not going to bring me back. It’s like to what. But it was fun. I think it was just fun for me because like I know, the head writer, Sarah Schaefer really well. We’ve worked together a good amount of things. So I knew her and then, Joel, I hadn’t met. And then Brody was in there pitching jokes and stuff. So like, it was a small crew. And like, I really liked everybody’s vibe. So it was in and then Arsenio was so nice and so open. Because like, I don’t know I’ve become a little bitter over the years. Where it’s like, especially being in some of these like high-stress environments where they expect you to do extra work that you’re not fucking paid for, and then they don’t reward you for doing the extra work anyway. So you’re like, What the fuck is the point? So I never tried to go super above and beyond, you know, what I mean? Like, I’m never gonna
Is this that quiet quitting that I’ve heard the kids talking about?
No, I just felt like there were people. It’d be like, oh, I wrote this extra thing, just in case or they showed up to set an hour early, and I like those motherfuckers got fired. So I’m like, why are you doing all that? Like they don’t appreciate you. Do your job. Do your job well, and then also have a fucking personal life, Jesus Christ. So I’ve like I don’t tend to like if somebody asked me to write 14 jokes, I’ll write 14 jokes. I’ll probably write 20 and then whittle it down to 14 and then send the 14 jokes. I’m not going to go and do more than what I’m asked to do. Because like, they don’t need it. I’m not rewarded for it. But like, genuinely I liked Arsenio so much. I wrote more, which is like that. I never do that. I never do that. I was just so blown away and I loved everyone and the vibe so much that I naturally went above and beyond which I made a personal rule for myself not to do and I was like, that’s crazy. That’s how much I loved him, though, and working in that room. It was really fun.
The opportunities in late-night seem to be shrinking a little bit. And then you hear these murmurs. I mean, we’re in the fall of 20202, but you hear murmurs that there might be a writer strike in 2023? Based on all of these changing mechanisms, especially with how streaming residual pay out for writers. Has that changed what you tend to be shooting for as a comedian, whether it’s writing versus performing?
That was already shifting for me anyway, because I never wanted to just be I mean, it’s very privileged sentence. It’s really fucking hard, and it’s a really cool job, to have the privilege to be staffed on a late-night show, so I’m not trying to belittle that. But that was never my end goal. I always wanted to sell my own show and be an actor and a touring stand-up comedian and write on just different shows that I thought were cool over the years. Because the thing is when you make money one way, like people tend to pigeonhole you. So I had to fight hard to be like, No, I actually, I don’t want to be staffed on something that’s not gonna, like be what would look like a big step forward or that isn’t scripted. I want to focus more on building out other things. So I was kind of organically already shifting more towards acting and stuff anyway.
And you’ve gotten some some some nice stuff. I mean, you’re on an episode of Westworld. You’ve got this this movie coming out Plan B. How has that changed your mindset? Just deciding 1) to take acting classes and then 2) going after these roles that aren’t necessarily stand up roles are like showing a completely different side of you from the 16-year-old who was trying to impress her classmates?
As a comedian, they naturally put you on auditions, right? And then I was getting sent out for these comedic Indian women parts that were like popping up for the first time. And then it would be me and the same 10 girls I would see in the waiting room. And I was like damn, there’s like 10 of us and I’ve never gotten a callback. I must be like, seriously, like, I must suck. Like for me to be eating a dick this hard every fucking time and there’s 10 of us. I’m not doing something right. So I kind of wanted to go at it from the ground up. So I went and took like a full Meisner theater program. While I was writing for The Jim Jefferies Show. Learning it that way as opposed to I feel like when you’re actors, I mean when you’re comedians they will give you like quick fixes or like quick coaching but I’m like I want to learn how to do this and have a technique and be properly trained because I think I needed all the fucking help I could get and when I started doing that, I genuinely fell in love with it. By the end of it, I was like, Oh, this is so goddamn cool. And I used to see acting as like a means to build my name so I could tour more as a stand-up comedian, but like after going through that and like working in it, I’m like, Oh, I love this and I want to do this forever. So yeah,I absolutely fell in love with it. And it’s interesting though, because it can be frustrating because acting is so — whether or not you’re right for a very specific part, not necessarily talent level, at least when I’m writing I can change my voice to write for other people but like with acting, I can’t change my face.
They have hair and makeup for that.
Still, it’s interesting. It’s almost harder because it’s less of a meritocracy. Because you do have to be talented to get that role but it just feels not more random. If that makes sense. Like more out of your control whether or not you book, as opposed to writing I feel it’s still really difficult but it’s a little easier.
With the writing, you could have situations whether you’re asking for blind submissions, so they don’t see who’s writing it.
They don’t see who’s writing it like the fact that I’m like a small Indian woman doesn’t mean I can’t write in Jim’s voice, whereas like I can’t play a Jim-type character on a sitcom. So I think that’s for me, that’s where the difference comes in. Like we need a drunk Australian man. I’m like, actually, I’ve been working…no, please leave.
Maybe you would have gotten another season on Comedy Central if they’d done that. Does the acting give you any more empathy, especially when you’re living and working in LA, when you see actors show up at the comedy clubs? A lot of stand ups have a bias against that because they’re like, Oh, you’re just just using our stage as an audition.
I just think this industry is so fucked. So do whatever. I’m not mad at them because it’s not. It should be the booker who’s creating the type of environment they want to create. So I’m not mad at somebody trying to further their career, or do what they think they need to do to improve their career. Like, the only person I would potentially be annoyed with is a person who’s like, Oh, I’m curating a good comedy lineup. But also, it’s a business and at the end of the day, my jokes are a way for them to sell liquor. So do they actually give a fuck? So I think everyone’s just trying to live so I’m not mad. If it’s like heavily leaning that way on the lineup, or it’s like extremely egregious. Yeah, I guess I could be frustrated. But I guess it just doesn’t annoy me because I already think everything is so fucked.
So you don’t think if someone’s a Real Housewife, they should really be a housewife.
Sure. I might think it’s stupid, but I’m like this industry is stupid. It doesn’t hurt me anymore. So I’m like, I think maybe like, seven maybe even 10 years ago. I would’ve been like this was an outrage. Now I don’t give a shit.
Did you adopt this kind of healthy cynicism, before the pandemic or did the pandemic really kind of shift that for you?
I mean, I’ve always kind of had that a little bit in me and then it’s weird, and then this is like so much a social media thing, where like people see your successes, but they don’t see what you failed at. So I would say the past three to five years, I’ve never gotten closer to life-changing things and failed so much. And then people would be like, Oh, but it’s like incredible that you got that far, that you were like top five or top two for this role. Or I was like a hair away from selling this TV show. All of these things that like I kept getting so close to and then just not being able to move it across the finish line. And of course, I did get like incredible things that I’m super grateful for, but it fucking breaks a person, because no matter how cynical you are, there’s still a piece of you that hopes for it or you wouldn’t keep doing this. And so when someone’s like, this TV show with these major fucking celebrities attached to your script that has a production company and everything and it’s all good to go like, and then like you have these meetings with these big people and it looks like it’s gonna go and then it doesn’t like you can’t help but picture your life. It can’t help it be a little bit real to you. Like what it would feel to have your dream come true. And then when it doesn’t, it feels like you’re grieving that dream, even though it never existed in the first place. And so it’s really fucking painful and it’s been like a brutal three to five years, you know?
Do you at least get paid for those, when the rug gets pulled out from under you?
Sometimes. Sometimes, yeah.
That’s kind of always been the understanding I’ve had about Hollywood is that even if you don’t get your show made or you get your script ordered, but it doesn’t get the pilot, all of those things somehow in Hollywood still feel like they can end up moving up. The ladder, even if none of them actually go.
I guess that’s kind of what I was hearing and then I was like, maybe, but then after like three years of sitting on the same rung here, like what the fuck? But also, it is that way with like writing and like pitching shows and stuff, but with acting. No. There’s like no reward. I was in top consideration for the lead role in that Mindy Kaling Secret Sex Lives of College Girls — I don’t know if I’m not supposed to mention it, but who gives a shit. But also that brown detective in that Confess Fletch movie. And like both of the actors that got the part were fucking amazing. I’m not mad at it or bitter at all. It just fucking hurts. Because like, oh man, like how fucking cool in that event have been able to do that. And how life-changing it would have been. But I’m not like oh I deserve that part, blah blah blah, because again the actors they cast were fucking incredible. Both projects came out amazing. I’m not upset. I’m just sad. And then once those like things keep piling up. I don’t know. I think I need to work on being more grateful, too, because like I did also get to be have a really cool part in an indie film so like why am I letting the negative outweigh the positive?
You have your Plan B, and you have a comedy album out. They can’t take that away from you. How many people can say that?
So what keeps you going? Is it remembering to have gratitude?
I mean, honestly, I did want to quit, but like I couldn’t think of anything else to do other than like, maybe going back to school to be a veterinarian, but I’m like, if I love animals, do I really want to look at their guts all day? That seems weird. But that’s literally the plan I had. I was like, I don’t know what else I would do. I do love what I’m doing. And there’s always that fear in the back of my head that I’m giving up too early. If that makes sense, where I’m like, maybe some of what I really am shooting for here could happen, and maybe it won’t be so hard, because I feel like everything I’ve gotten I’ve had to like claw and fight for tooth and nail. And I think more than anything, what I want is for it to just get a little easier because I’m exhausted. I’m like maybe it will in the future. So I think I just have to be like calm and keep pushing for a little bit and then also just being like grateful for everything that I am being given because it is a lot and it would be like really shitty of me to get things that other people want and me not appreciate them. So I’m trying to work on that.
Sounds like great advice. Well, Subhah congratulations on everything again.
Thank you
And I look forward to the next time we talk when we can talk about all the great things that have come true for you.
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