Kristen article from The Guardian

[url=Any cows in tonight?][/url]
Kristen Schaal used to try her comedy act out on farm animals. I'm not surprised, says Brian Logan

When the casting directors of the hit US sitcom Flight of the Conchords were looking for someone to play the eponymous duo's dorky but dangerous stalker, Mel, why did they turn to Kristen Schaal? Might it have been the US comic's comedy routine about a pet caterpillar driven to suicidal fury by the endless wait to pupate? Or that weird moment in her Edinburgh set last year, when she proposed to her boyfriend in the audience - and got rejected? "
I have no idea why they cast me!"
squeals Schaal, entirely disingenuous. She knows full well that she and Mel are a perfect match: sweet, awkwardly sexual, ever-so-slightly demented - and fast establishing themselves on the comedy scene.

Schaal's brand of girlish stand-up is of a piece with the current British trend for lo-fi, DIY comedy. But she also has a dark streak that distinguishes her from her peers on both sides of the Atlantic. This year, she is joined on the Edinburgh Fringe by sidekick Kurt Braunohler in a show about "
heartbreak, deformities, death and new life. It's about passion and addiction. It's done in reverse chronological order."
Like Harold Pinter's Betrayal? "
Oh yes, he was one of the inspirations,"
she deadpans. "
He really was!"


Most comedians wouldn't get away with that: their familiarity with Pinter is minimal. But Schaal has worked as an actor, and is an experienced theatre improviser;
she has had ample time to study the dramatic canon. Now 30, she spent six years working on the alternative New York scene. Her big moment came in 2005, when New York Magazine named her (alongside ex-Perrier champ Demetri Martin) one of the Ten Funniest New Yorkers You've Never Heard Of. "
I was waiting tables when the phone rang,"
she says. "
It was totally out of the blue."


In retrospect, she's glad success took its time to arrive. "
I had time to find my voice,"
she says. "
But I could easily have been cast as some shiity 'zany neighbour' on some show that really sucks."
Flight of the Conchords, the TV debut of spoof folk duo and erstwhile Edinburgh stars Brett McKenzie and Jemaine Clement, definitely doesn't suck. Schaal is humble about her part in the show, and claims not to have seen all the episodes. But it has changed her life: "
I was in Edinburgh last year when it first aired. When I went home, I was like, 'You've got to be kidding!' People were screaming my character's name. I was so startled."


It may force a change in her comedy, too. Schaal's last gig, in Seattle, was performed to 1,700 people. "
When I was making little shows for little venues,"
she says, "
they could be intimate and quirky, all caterpillars and birds. I can't do that any more. No one can see that shii."
That's not the only reason she wants to progress beyond a style she describes as "
surreal, absurd and prop-heavy ... I would like to move towards being more verbal. Because that stuff lasts a bit longer. And then I could go on tour without having to pack a bunch of shii to take with me."


Her run at last year's Fringe went well: "
I had a Cinderella Edinburgh debut. Someone brought me over and produced me. That's luckier than a lot of people get."
But it also forced her to confront a demon. "
Years ago, I saw someone perform stand-up, and it looked so improvised and funny. The next night I saw him do the same set again, exactly as he did it the previous night - and it turned out his act was very structured and set. I was angry because I felt fooled. And I was like, 'I'll never let anyone feel that way about me.'"
That made for an onerous career. "
I would always do new material wherever I went. Which was good, because I got really prolific. On the other hand, I made a lot of bad shii."


Edinburgh taught her that she could repeat jokes without shame. And if any-one finds that disappointing, they can rest assured that her essential principle isn't changing. "
What I hope I give audiences,"
she says, "
is something they don't expect. There's all kinds of laughs. But my favourite is the 'Holy shii, I never thought you'd say that!' kind."


Likewise, the kooky demeanour is here to stay, the schoolgirl-with-overactive-imagination shtick that harks back to Schaal's childhood on an isolated Colorado farm. "
I had time on my hands,"
she explains. "
I would perform in front of the cows. They never mooed. They never heckled. They were very polite. That's how I learned to not expect anything from an audience.

"
I went back home recently,"
she says, "
and I looked at the cows again and thought, 'God, they have the same expression as audiences.' Just expectant - they want something but they're just, like, waiting. And they have no idea what they're waiting for.'"
That's just how Schaal likes it. "
After that training,"
she says, "
I was set"
.

Hahahahahahahaha!

shes soo weird!!! i love it!!!!!!!