Aaron Berg brings his take-no-prisoners act to Moka Pot
Watching Aaron Berg walk on stage at a comedy club, two thoughts compete for space in one’s head at the same time: he’s either going to make people laugh or totally destroy them. The truth, as Berg tells it, is that he’d really like to do both, metaphorically speaking.
The second thought makes sense because Berg is a competitive bodybuilder, who created his physique the way he builds a set — obsessively, with no shortcuts. He looks less like a comedian than something that wandered off a movie poster, thick-necked, broad-shouldered, all traps and forearms. Along with punchlines, he probably has a deadly right hook.
“I wanted to murder these people,” he said by phone recently, hearkening back on the mentality he brought with him from bodybuilding in his 20s to the comedy stage. “I wanted these people to laugh so hard they were crying. There’s definitely a kill-or-be-killed mentality up there; that does come from bodybuilding.”
Physical conditioning is the throughline in Berg’s career these days, on stage and off. He recently returned to competition, and talks openly now about training, TRT, and the discipline of prepping for competition. His days start at 4:30 a.m. with a quick posing practice, 45 minutes of cardio, a training session, followed by six or seven meals during the day.
“I go all the way in on everything,” he said.
Subject matter that would have seemed like a novelty act a decade ago now resonates with an audience increasingly fluent in peptides and gym culture. Fans now show up specifically for the gym material, then stick around for the rest. Berg keeps busy, doing roughly 20 stand-up sets a week around New York City.
That all-in ethic extends to Berg’s family.
He and his wife, comic Christine Berg, are raising an 8-year-old daughter, Piper, who is now a black belt in taekwondo and, apparently, a fairly sharp critic of his material. “She’ll come to a set, and she’ll go, ‘Dad, that was really offensive,’” Berg said. “And I go, ‘Yeah, but the audience was laughing.’ And she’s like, ‘It doesn’t change the fact it was offensive.’”
Christine chimed in partway through the conversation with her own assessment. Her husband, she said, is “very odd, but very lovable,” and added that there’s no malice behind his material, however far it pushes.
“I’m a very kind person that says horrible things,” Berg said, agreeing with her.
That balance between provocation and warmth is something Berg has had to recalibrate over the years. Roughly a decade ago, around the time he wrote his second book, American Etiquette, he found himself drifting toward overtly political material and a podcast built around it — an effort he now describes as a “grift” that curdled.
“The dog-whistle mentality would allow for fans to basically embrace it just for the purpose of, ‘Oh, they’re saying racial stuff,’ which would then turn into racist stuff,” he said. He walked away, though he did worry about supporting his family. He found assurance from comic friends who insisted he’d land on his feet.
He did. These days the material comes from a more current, more personal place — marriage, fatherhood, and his return to bodybuilding. However, Berg’s stated goal hasn’t changed.
“I want 99 percent of people to love what I do, and I want one percent to be like, what the hell is this?” he said. “And I accomplish that.”
It’s a needle he’s still actively threading on stage, not a settled formula, he continued, and the difference between an edgy joke landing and just being mean is something he checks himself on set to set. The stories he tells trace back to an instinct he found in childhood, that comedy is both a weapon and refuge.
Berg’s best-known feat remains 25 Sets, the 2015 documentary chronicling his attempt to break the record for most stand-up sets performed in a single night. The plan was to hit 26 clubs across New York City, but a car breakdown forced him onto foot and into cabs and cost him a set in Times Square. It left him with 25, still a record, and a title for his movie.
He’s about to make his first appearance in Manchester, at the Moka Pot. Fittingly for the all-or-nothing comic, it’s a two-night run. Berg is learning more about the city and the newly relocated venue, which has several summer shows booked.
“I know the Moka Pot is supposed to be a great little spot for comedy, and there’s a thriving local scene there,” he said. “Everybody seems so excited, but I have no idea where it is. I don’t even know how far the drive is going to be — or if I need to fly or take a small boat.”
Aaron Berg
When: Friday, July 31, and Saturday, Aug. 1, at 8 p.m.
Where: Moka Pot, 8 Hanover St., Manchester
Tickets: $25, eventbrite.com
Featured photo: Aaron Berg. Photo by David Genik.
