Comic quips

By Jerry Fink

Tuesday, March 4, 2008 | 2 a.m.

As with a family business, this weekend at the Orleans fans can experience Shore & Son — 78-year-old veteran comic Sammy Shore and 40-year-old Pauly Shore.

Actually it might be more accurate to say Shore & Father, since Pauly, who made an art form out of weirdness, is now the better-known of the two. His father is the opening act.

Both names are tied to the Comedy Store in Los Angeles, which Sammy started in the early ’70s but gave up to his wife, Mitzi, in a divorce.

Pauly, who starred in “Encino Man” in 1992, helps run the club. Sammy, who was the opening act for Elvis Presley for about three years, says he sometimes performs there.

Both father and son stay busy, sometimes together but usually not. Pauly is the busier of the two, with movies, DVDs, the Store, stand-up and other projects. His most recent is producing and starring in six “Webisodes” for an Internet site called Ripe TV.

“It’s an online kind of channel. I just made a deal with them recently where I’m going to create Webisodes called ‘paulisodes.’ I have no idea what they’re going to be, but pretty soon TV and the Internet are going to marry. It’s all going to be one.”

PAULY SHORE

You’re a busy guy these days.

I know, man. I’m moving offices. I don’t know, I’ve got a lot of different things goin’ on. I got a couple of movies comin’ out. There’s a lot of detail work that goes into postproduction and legal stuff and stuff that’s not really my kind of bag, you know?

You write and star in all of your films now?

Yeah, exactly. About three, four years ago I did “Pauly Shore Is Dead,” which is something that I wrote, directed, starred in, financed. And ever since then I’ve kind of got the bug of doing my own kind of specials or movies and stuff like that. This weekend I had a movie come out on Showtime called “Pauly Shore’s Natural Born Komics (Sketch Comedy Movie): Miami” with Charlie Murphy and T-Pain and Ruben Studdard. The DVD comes out March 25. You treat it like a big theatrical release ’cause that’s basically how you treat, you know, DVDs now ’cause that’s where the business is. Unless you’re Will Smith or Shrek or something, to try and open a movie, only 10 to 15 stars can do that.

Any other films coming out?

A kid’s movie that I did, a studio film. It’s called “Opposite Day.” It comes out sometime this year, but I’m not quite sure what time. And then I did a movie in Africa called “Adopted” where I go to adopt a black child in Africa.

How are you able to keep up with everything?

I’m just passionate about all this stuff. It does me; I don’t do it. I don’t know, man, I was born in the business. It’s in my blood. It’s almost like a wave that just kind of takes you.

In addition to your films, you have a very active stand-up career. Why do you keep doing it?

I love it. I love being away from L.A. I love, I don’t know, the spontaneity of just kind of not always doing the same thing, you know. Like my longest period that I could stay in L.A. at one time is like three weeks and then it seems like my body and my system is used to being out of L.A. But then I love coming back.

Growing up in and around the comedy club in L.A., you must have met all the great comedians at one time or another. Who influenced you the most?

When I was first starting out, Sam Kinison and Richard Pryor. The thing I learned from them is to be likable onstage. Sam Kinison, even though he screamed, there was like a sweetness to him and there was a connection with the audience. That’s really the most important thing about stand-up. If I have any advice for any stand-up, it’s connecting with the people and being in touch with them — do you understand?

How has your father affected your career? Are you and he alike onstage?

I don’t know. That’s a weird question. I think people would have to tell us that. Obviously Dad is part of me. The goofiness, the quackiness is kind of similar.

Are comedy clubs big again?

Yeah, they’re great, especially The Improvs. They’ve capitalized on the comedy club world out there in America. Another (chain of comedy clubs) called the Funny Bones is doing great. Between those two clubs they’ve kind of got it locked down. They probably handle 75 percent of the business out there. The Improv is very corporate, but I like that because the checks clear, the audiences are good, and it’s clean. You know what you’re getting. It’s not shady, it’s a corporation, which is cool.

With all the media, is it harder to be funnier now? Do you have to keep coming up with new material?

Yeah, because everyone’s doing it. Yeah. It’s definitely a lot harder now than back in the day. But bottom line, you’re either talented or not talented and if you’re talented you’ll prevail and sustain and you’ll get a shot.

SAMMY SHORE

Were you and Pauly close when he was growing up?

Oh yeah. When he was 16 and still in high school he came to me and said, “I want to be a comic.” Robin Williams and Jay Leno used to come into the club all the time, so he grew up with those guys.

What’s it like working with your son?

Crazy Pauly. He wasn’t born, he was hatched. Yeah, we just came back from Canada just about a week ago and just did great there. I hadn’t been in Canada in years, but he works there a lot. It’s so cold there, but the audiences were great. They were screaming at Pauly. I go out there before him and put him down a lot, in a nice way, and then he puts me down: “He’s not my father; he’s a sperm donor.” You know what’s so good about it? Where do you get a chance to really work with your kid, especially in show business? Sandy Hackett and his father, Buddy, did it for a minute, and it didn’t work. But Pauly and I have been really successful. We started in 1995. We toured the country, every major city, every major college and club — just about everything. It’s so much fun being on the road with him. He’s just crazy — and I’m not all together either.

Why did you decide to move to Las Vegas?

I just got tired of living in Los Angeles and being part of that BS for so many years. When you get older you get calls for auditions for grandpas and like that. All the casting people are out in the valley so you have to drive on the freeway bumper to bumper to get there and then sit in an office 45 minutes with a lot of older guys like me falling asleep. Then I had to get in my car and get all the way back to the Marina, where I lived. It took me an hour and a half to drive. Every time I went to an audition it took three hours driving. I couldn’t even move in the Marina — it was bumper to bumper. Vegas has always been kind to me.

Are you still active on the comedy circuit?

I go out maybe 30 dates a year. I just did the Riverside in Laughlin — just me, not with Pauly. I work a lot with Tony Orlando. I tell you, it’s been a great ride. A lot of guys get bitter when they get older and can’t find work, and I can understand that. You know, after having a great career and all of a sudden no one wants you anymore because you’re old. That’s tough, especially when you know you can still go out and do it. But I understand, it’s a young person’s world.

Do you get out a lot in Vegas?

Yeah. I saw my friend Trini Lopez a few months ago at the Cannery. Trini gave me my first break in Las Vegas in 1968 at the Riviera. Before that the only time I ever worked Vegas was downtown. I forget the name of the hotel. But when I opened for Trini I killed them. I got two or three standing ovations. Trini couldn’t believe what happened. Two or three standing ovations never happened for an opening act before. Bill Miller was there. He booked acts for the Flamingo and he put me on as Tom Jones’ opening act the first time he played in Vegas. You couldn’t get near the hotel. There were girls standing around the block. Elvis was a big fan of Tom Jones. He and the Colonel (Presley’s manager, Tom Parker) came in to see Tom Jones and they saw me and liked me and came backstage after the show to see Bill Miller. The Colonel said to me, “I like your humor.” I said, “Good. I like your chicken.” Elvis was very quiet. They hired me to open for Elvis at the International hotel. Those were great times. I went from Trini Lopez to Tom Jones to Elvis Presley. I couldn’t believe what was happening.

What was it like, working with Elvis?

Elvis was crazy about me. There was always something going on. I used to ride in a private jet with Colonel Parker and Elvis would ride in another jet with the boys. After every show the Colonel would get his money in cash, in a suitcase. No checks, no nothing, always cash — at least $250,000 and sometimes $300,000. The Colonel would say, “Look what I got here” and open the suitcase and show me all that cash.

How long did you open for Elvis?

From about 1969 to ’72 or ’73. But then Alex Shoofey (head of the Hilton) hired me to work in a lounge and Elvis and the Colonel fired me because they didn’t want a lounge act working for Elvis. I couldn’t believe it. None of the guys would come to see me. It was so sad, after I worked with them for so many years. I was old news. They didn’t have the time for me.

Is that when you opened the Comedy Store in L.A.?

A friend of mine, Rudy De Luca, and I did. It was in a small room in Ciro’s (a restaurant hangout for Hollywood elites). I was going to call it the “Sammy Shore Show,” but Mitzi came up with the title “Comedy Store.” She wasn’t part of it at that time. Rudy and I opened it, and it was a smash. Every night people like Redd Foxx would come in. Then I started getting more dates and going out of town. I was gone four weeks one time and when I came back Mitzi was at the register and the place was packed, but it was a lot different. Plants were hanging everywhere. The pictures were rearranged. When I came in she said, “Sammy, stand in the back. I’m really busy.” All of a sudden she’s the big boss. It’s my room and she’s running it. I want to go on and she says, “Call me. Maybe I’ll put you on tomorrow night.” I couldn’t believe what was happening. She was a vulture, but she was doing well with the club. She was a business person. When I ran it I’d give away drinks and we’d all do a lot of ad-libbing. But Mitzi ran it like a business. She had a great eye for comedy and she didn’t give away drinks.

How long did the marriage last after that?

Less than a year. We were fighting all the time. I had to pay $1,100 a month for child support for two kids, Peter and Pauly. I said, “Lower the payment to $600 and you can have the Comedy Store.” I was on the road a lot. With the club you had to be there. If I would have run it I would have run it into the toilet. If she didn’t have it, it would have closed in a couple of years. But she built an empire and I went on the road.