JR de Guzman Shows Filipinos Are Truly Funny
/A dreary holiday season can cloud memories of better days before Covid-19 ruined everything. Comic JR de Guzman, age 30, has stayed outside this collective amnesia. His short-term memory remains intact because his standup career has lost no momentum since his comedy set was featured in the Netflix Comedy Lineup in 2018.
Before the breakthrough set, JR was selected a “New Face” at the Just for Laughs Comedy Festival in Montreal. The award from the largest international comedy festival continues to have symbolic significance. “Just for Laughs was something I set out to do since I started out in comedy. That awesome experience gave me enduring confidence. I need it for the one hour special I hope to do for Netflix very soon.”
Onstage he comes across as a clean-cut, young man. Picture a Mormon missionary walking door to door but with no tie, in a blue chambray shirt, and with an acoustic guitar in place of the Book of Mormon. “A lot of people who don’t know that I do standup comedy already assume this choir boy personality. I just have a very unintimidating look.” He suspects, “If a guy found out I was talking to his girlfriend at a bar, he’d be OK with it.”
The halo is part of his act. “When I do talk about sex or other edgier topics, there’s this nice contrast for the audience’s expectations of a quiet Asian dude stereotype.” He adds, “I have a song called ‘Asian Guys Can Smash’ that pokes fun at the desexualization of Asian men in the media.”
What’s Fair Game
JR is no castrato minstrel, having been born in Pangasinan province, sort of the Hoboken of the Philippines. Still cradle-bound, he accompanied his parents, Teresa and Tony de Guzman, and his brothers, JP and Ace, to Los Angeles. Their American dream didn't begin in the home of relatives or friends or in any other building with a street address. They moved into an outdoor storage container. He mines his destitute beginnings for humor without fanning passions still smoldering from disturbing news feeds of Chinese and Mexican immigrants found dead in shipping containers and trailers.
“Balancing the line between what’s funny and offensive is definitely something I have to take into account, but I think you build an instinct over time. You find the boundaries by trying new jokes and seeing what works and what bombs. I find that if you go the personal route, it’s easier to not offend someone because you’re sharing your experiences.” He admits, “There are propositions I can get away with onstage that a non-minority might not be able to say, and vice versa. But ascertaining those limits isn’t part of my writing process since I don’t know what it’s like to write from the perspective of a non-minority.”
JR’s story could hatch a sitcom that opens with the family and storage unit hitched to a truck on the 101 North from Los Angeles to the greener pastures of Sacramento. But alas, they left the container behind when they relocated to the California Capitol. He jokes, “I was one of three Asian kids at my high school. The other two were actually half White, so there were actually two Asians if you do the math.”
He didn’t date a non-Asian girl until college. At the University of California, Davis, he served as President of the Pacific Asian Club. “In more recent years, I’ve been around more Asian people and am getting to know my culture and the dating scenery.”
Unofficial Ambassador of Filipino Americans
Four years before his standup career took flight, comedy was his passport to places across the globe. “I spent a good part of 2014 touring in Asia and Europe. I did standup comedy while also working odd jobs like disaster relief after the Bohol [Philippines] earthquake. I stayed in a backpacking hostel in Malaysia and funded my adventures teaching English in Amsterdam.” He recalls, “That’s one of the periods I look back at fondly as a comic because I was grinding at comedy while trying to see the world.”
Since the Netflix show, JR has entertained on several continents, including the Greenland region of North America, and the island nations of the Bahamas, Singapore, Indonesia, and a return visit to the Philippines.
Although JR understands Tagalog and speaks it passably, he says, “I always do my comedy in English. My overseas audiences understand me and the topics I cover.” During a show in the Philippines, he encountered a hard act to follow. “I had the hardest time following a comic who had just finished his set in Tagalog. For the thirty minutes I was on stage, they really missed hearing the guy in Tagalog. After I was finished, they asked him back to the stage.” JR concedes, “He was funny.”
He acknowledges a debt of gratitude to Jokoy, the Filipino comic with three Netflix specials. “He’s someone I looked up to coming up as a young comic and before that, as a young Filipino in America. I have great respect for him for using his platform to lift up other Filipino artists.”
JR makes happy banter with Filipino audiences. “As for my writing and comedy approach, I like to include Filipino audiences while also trying to make the material relatable to a wide demographic.” In other words, “I’ll test a routine with a Filipino or Asian audience first before I try it in another show with a non-Filipino audience to see what works in every room.”
Five years ago, he expanded his fan base enough to give up teaching jobs to supplement his income. “I went full-time in standup when I started touring colleges.” Those gigs have benefited his bank account and worldview.
Taking the show on the road throughout America has exposed him to diverse attitudes. “In my shows, I talk about being called a Chinaman. It really happened.”
He finds that blatantly racist incidents aren’t commonplace even in Red states. Nonetheless, the use of that “Kung Fu” TV series racial slur during the catastrophic beating of pianist Tadataka Unno on September 27th near a New York City subway station underscores the dire need for Asian Americans to maintain vigilance.
JR says, “Sometimes people say things that aren’t racist; just strangely ignorant like, ‘You’re Filipino? No way, my dad served in Vietnam!’” He doesn’t fault people for making a sincere effort to connect with him.
These brushes with racial confusion can serve as teaching moments. “When I talk about racism, I try to give people my truth. By hearing my story, they can make an informed decision about how to relate to me and other Asians.”
His success at telling his story has made him an unofficial ambassador for Filipino Americans. “When I’ve traveled in the American South, some towns have no Filipino people living in them. It’s great we can experience each other’s cultures because the better we know each other, the less we fear each other.”
This intermingling of cultures is the basis of a popular theme in his comedy – interracial babies. “I think it’s hilarious to bring something like that up in front of a diverse audience. Diversity in an audience is beautiful. Also, interracial babies are always beautiful, so there’s that.” I’ll return to that theme a little later.
Covid-19 allowed him to move temporarily back with his parents in Sacramento for a break from Los Angeles, but not a break from work. “I did a Zoom show recently for a broad audience. Everyone from families to residents of retirement homes were watching what was billed as a nonpolitical show.”
Given his liberal leanings, JR sees the wisdom of keeping off politics. “I’ve seen many Filipinos who love Donald Trump. I’ve questioned how an immigrant can support him. The answer usually involves Filipino machismo values that resonate with [Philippine President Rodrigo] Duterte and Trump.”
The Guitar and Family Aren’t Props
The de Guzmans are a centerpiece of his monologues. “My family is a pretty hilarious group. Growing up, there was a lot of laughter in my household, and my dad definitely is his own character.” Tony, the father, was instrumental in making this feature article happen.
The family stories often have musical accompaniment. “I’ve played music since I was a little kid. I’ve taken piano lessons and eventually played drums and guitar. When I finally included guitar in my act, it felt like a natural transition.”
Every lyric is original. “As for my technique for writing comedy songs, I’ll write down ten song ideas, and if I’m able to get at least three funny verses out of a premise, then I’ll usually commit to finishing it.”
That’s the story behind the crowd pleaser he strums nightly: “Interracial Babies.”
Here’s JR:
Anthony Maddela goes birding in the public housing developments of his employer, the Housing Authority of the City of Los Angeles.
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