Dane Cook: Armed and Hilarious

Published at : August 21, 2005 - New York Times

LOS ANGELES
THOUGH he has never set foot in a college classroom, Dane Cook is a very Big Man on Campus. Thanks to this comedian's rabid student fan base, his recently released comedy CD, "Retaliation," sold almost 90,000 copies its first week out, making it the first comedy album to crack Billboard's Top 5 since Steve Martin's "Wild and Crazy Guy" made its debut in 1978. Later this month Mr. Cook will be a presenter at the MTV Video Music Awards, and next month, he will perform three shows at the 5,500-seat Theater at Madison Square Garden. (The second and third shows were added after the first sold out.)


J. Emilio Flores for The New York Times
Dane Cook checked out a gun club in Los Angeles before a show.
On a recent evening, the comic; his manager, Brian Volk-Weiss; and two fellow stand-ups, Jay Davis and Robert Kelly, kicked off a night of male bonding at the Los Angeles Gun Club. After a brief tutorial, the four were kitted out with guns, ammo and earmuffs and sent into the shooting gallery.
"Are we starting the contest now?" Mr. Volk-Weiss asked.
"We make everything a competition," said Mr. Cook, 33, a strapping figure in jeans, white T-shirt and a cap emblazoned with "White Boy." Since no one in the group had ever fired a weapon, a practice round was in order. A few tentative shots rang out. Mr. Davis fumbled with his Beretta. "I think there's something wrong with it," he said.
"Your clip's not in, Starsky," Mr. Cook jeered.
An hour later all the ammo was spent. Points were tallied, and Mr. Volk-Weiss began jumping up and down like a game show contestant, shouting: "I won! Give me my five bucks!"
The group packed in their pistols and decamped for Mr. Cook's favorite restaurant, Denny's, on the Sunset Strip. The conversation turned to retaliation - the action, not Mr. Cook's album. Mr. Volk-Weiss, the victim of a prank by Mr. Cook that caused him to think he was being evicted, outlined a complicated revenge plot that would have duped Mr. Cook into thinking he was being swindled. "I spent months planning it, but at the last minute I couldn't go through with it. Nobody ever gets Dane."
Mr. Cook replied: "That's because I live my entire life like it's a joke. I'm always convinced that someone is playing a trick on me, even when they're not. I had a pitch meeting last week with a writer that was so bad and went on for so long, I was positive you'd set me up."
Next stop was the Laugh Factory, where Mr. Cook was scheduled to headline and where his girlfriend of two years works as a waitress. As he took the stage before the packed house, some audience members flashed a hand gesture known as "the SuFi." Short for "super-finger," it has become something of a secret handshake among the faithful. (Mr. Cook posits that swear words and obscene gestures have lost their power, necessitating the invention of new ones.) Judging by Mr. Cook's home page at myspace.com, on which he posts photos of fans making the gesture - thumb out to the side, middle and ring fingers raised - the SuFi phenomenon is spreading like a virus.
After a high-octane set that had him mimicking a unicorn, a medieval monk and a mouthful of aggressively crooked teeth, Mr. Cook stepped outside the club and was pounced upon by admirers. Thirty minutes later he was still there signing CD's, napkins and body parts, and posing for pictures. One young woman didn't like how she looked in her photo; would he mind posing for another? "Whatever you need," Mr. Cook replied cheerfully. "I'm here for you."