Speaking to a standing-room-only group of more than 100 rapt Second City students in mid-January, Odenkirk explains why the hostility was so strong in 1990 that Second City matriarch and longtime producer Joyce Sloane had to step in on his behalf.
“Growing up, show business seemed so far away. Second City seemed far away. It freaked me out. It was all so intimidating. The whole business is so scary and distant and such a mystery. I’d like to make it a little less mysterious for you guys.”
“It wasn’t just what he said, although the words were hilarious and great,” Odenkirk continues. “It was the way he talked about comedy. It made me think ‘This is a job, you can make a living at it.’ The excitement he had—he’d just quit his job and he was so excited about what would happen next. I didn’t know anyone over 25 who had that kind of excitement. Everybody I could think of was beat to shit by that age, golfing and getting drunk and thinking about the past.”
The trap is the addictive nature of laughter. “I get it. Laughs are addictive. They are the sweetest honey maple syrup. But you need to fucking create a scene and characters and be funny. That night that was so great when you got a lot of laughs? Complete waste of time. You got no better as an actor. You fed off your worst instincts. And you aren’t growing. You’re just hanging out with your friends making them laugh three times a week.”