This Is Francesca D’Uva’s Interview and You Have to Respect That

This week, we’re highlighting 24 talented writers and performers for Vulture’s annual list “The Comedians You Should and Will Know.” Our goal is to introduce a wider audience to the talent that has the comedy community and industry buzzing. (You can read more about our methodology at the link above.) We asked the comedians on the list to answer a series of questions about their work, performing, goals for the future, and more. Next up is Francesca D’Duva.

Tell us a story from your childhood that you think might explain why you ended up becoming a comedian.
Okay, what’s coming to mind is a story from when I was in kindergarten. I was in a K-8 Catholic school, and I was suuuuuper quiet and miserable for no specific reason. But one day, my teacher gave me the task of delivering a piece of mail to the fourth-grade classroom. And not to flex, but I had a brother in the fourth grade, so that’s why they asked me. Anyway, the fourth-grade teacher was this very young woman who was sooo nice to me even though I was shy. When I handed her the envelope, she grabbed it and said, “Let’s see what it is!”

Right after school that day, I told my mom and my siblings that I had delivered mail to my brother’s teacher, and I told them how, when she grabbed the envelope, she said “Let’s see what it iiissssss,” and when I said it, I used a really exaggerated Valley Girl accent. It got a huge laugh. My family was so obsessed with my impression of her that it became one of our main inside jokes. Everyone was always going, “Let’s see what it isss.” And that’s when I learned the comedic impact of mocking young women. So sorry to that teacher!

If you were immortalized as a cartoon character, what would your outfit be?
It would have to be something amazing like a chain-mail bikini with a long trench coat on top and six-inch espadrilles … and a tool belt around my hips, and I’m wearing headphones all the time and I have an eyebrow piercing …

What’s your proudest moment/achievement of your comedy career so far?
I think that I’m just proud of myself in general. I feel like I’ve written so much material, and I’ve performed so much and made so many friends since I moved to New York eight years ago. And I’ve gotten to work with so many talented, smart people! I feel like it’s not always easy to transition into adulthood and feel like you’re generally happy with how you’ve spent your 20s, but I feel like I am. At this moment at least. Oh, and opening for Paul McCartney at Madison Square Garden was just the cherry on top of a perfect decade.

Which comedian’s career trajectory would you most like to follow?
Probably Ellen DeGeneres so I can jump-scare celebrities in the bathroom.

Tell us everything about your worst show ever. (This can involve venue, audience, other acts on the lineup, anything!)
A very long time ago when I was in college, I was in a sketch group that I thought was amazing. We were invited to perform at some kind of parent-weekend event with some other campus groups. The venue was a cafeteria, which is tough to begin with, and then very few parents ended up actually coming, and the ones who did come were mostly parents of children who were in one of the many amazing dance groups that were also performing that day. And, yeah, we did a couple sketches that we thought were our best and … not a single parent laughed. It was just silence for maybe ten minutes.

It was so hard for me, seriously, because I love parents. My whole life, I loved winning the approval of people’s parents and making them laugh, and that day, they all stared at me with disgust like I was just some weird, random girl. It was just sad. I learned a tough lesson at that show, which is that I should have been a dancer.

What have you learned about your own joke-writing process that you didn’t know when you started?
My friends are gonna hate me for this, but I’ve recently been obsessed with the rule of Occam’s razor, even though I don’t really know what it is. But basically, my idea is that it means that if you have a problem, the most obvious solution is usually the best solution. So for me, in terms of answering this question, I think that I’ve learned that the most obvious joke is usually the funniest joke. So instead of trying to force a joke now, I’ll just stop trying to write and think about funny things I’ve said in conversation recently. Usually whatever joke I made in conversation that made someone laugh will work onstage. If something is not something I’m talking or joking about in my regular life, I probably shouldn’t force it into a set.

So, there you go — Occam’s razor. I would also add that when I started out, I wasn’t performing musical comedy, which turns out to be what I like to do best.

What’s the biggest financial hurdle you’ve encountered since becoming a comedian?
Well, firstly, it’s important to say that I have been very lucky in my life and had parents who could pay for my college, so I basically have no debt, which I am soooo grateful for. Thank you, Mom! So I think probably my biggest hurdle has been that I should have become a doctor with the resources I had available to me, because I’m not sure about the viability of comedy as a career!

Just kidding — kind of. But there are a lot of situations where I’ve gotten comedy gigs that pay pretty well, but it means I have to quit whatever part-time jobs I’m working at in order to take the gigs. But then when I finish the gig, I haven’t quite made enough money to feel like I don’t have to work, so I have to go through the process of finding another part-time job. So the hurdle, I suppose, is trying to balance working to pay rent every month while also writing and moving my career forward, but also trying to figure out if I need a backup plan. This feels TMI.

At the end of the movie 8 Mile, Eminem’s character, B-Rabbit, starts his final battle rap by dissing himself so the person he’s battling has nothing left to attack. How would you roast yourself so the other person would have nothing to say?
I would say, “Hey bitch, you have short legs and a long torso, and you second-guess everything you do in a way that is a burden on those you love and even some strangers. Get some backbone, bitch!”

When it comes to your comedy opinions — about material, performing, audience, trends you want to kill/revive, the industry, etc. — what hill will you die on?
I guess I’d die on the hill that it’s good for comedians to have political opinions and to be critically engaged with the industry we’re working in. I’m not saying I think everyone should be doing political humor — please God, no — but l feel like personally I want to be more informed about these big entertainment companies, where their money is coming from, and where their money is going. Because ultimately their goal is only to make more and more money, and everything we write or produce is being used to that end, so I feel like it makes sense that we would want to feel okay with whatever the company is putting the money toward.

But these places don’t want us to think about that! And they’ve proven that if you actually choose to stand by your principles or dare to question the existing power structure, you lose work — like all of the artists who’ve been punished for speaking out against the genocide in Gaza. I’m rambling, but I just hate how condescending people in power are toward anyone with an actual opinion or interest in challenging the status quo. I’m not sure this makes any sense, but ultimately this is my interview and you have to respect that.

What is the best comedy advice, and then the worst comedy advice, you’ve ever received?
I think the best comedy advice I’ve gotten from anyone that I can remember is from my mom when she said I should make a YouTube channel and post some videos of my stand-up on it. I didn’t take her advice, which is my biggest regret. I’m sorry, Mom.

I think the worst advice is anyone telling me to change a joke when I didn’t ask for their input! It’s my prerogative if I want a joke to stay bad.