As our conversation continues (Part 1), Creasey shares his stage superstitions and something everyone should travel with.
By Jeffrey James Keyes
How did you get into comedy?
Well I thought I was going to be a very serious Shakespearean actor. [laughs] Didn’t we all? Then I discovered there aren’t many roles for camp, limp-wristed, blonde boys at fifteen — so the other option was comedy. One of my teachers told me I was funny. I told her I was going to go to University and study foreign affairs, and she told me I should just be telling jokes for a living. … So I said screw going to college, and that’s just what I did. I entered a stand up competition and the rest is history.
How do American audiences differ from Aussie audiences?
In particular, audiences in the States are enthusiastic — when you walk out, the people are automatically on your side. In Australia, they’re not on your side until you’ve won them over. They’ll be like, “You think you’re funny? Make me laugh!”It’s a bit more of a battle.
Gay comedians have come a long way in the past decade. Have you noticed the shift?
Absolutely, and it’s actually starting to get to a point where I’m like, “Hey! That’s enough! There’s too many of us now!” I’m trying to have them all killed. [laughs]. I think gay people translate into comedy well because laughter is a great defense mechanism; it’s mine anyways. If s**t happens to me, I try to have a laugh. In school, I always had to laugh off my sexuality as a way around it, and that gave me great mileage. It’s like I already had a five minute stand up routine prepared.
Do you have a pre-show ritual?
I’ve never written a set list. I’m actually writing an autobiography right now, and it’s killing me because I don’t like writing everything out. For me it’s a bunch of dinner party stories: I jumble everything around in my head and work out how I’m going to tell them. My manager thinks I’m one of the most chill comedians he’s ever worked with. I actually eat right before I go out on stage. I’m such a pig. A lot of people can’t eat before performing, and I’m backstage, waiting in the wings, munching on a bowl of pasta. The only weird thing I have is this need to wear something on my left hand — be it a ring or a watch. I don’t know why, but I just don’t like going out on stage without something on my left hand.
What do you think would happen if you went on without something on your left hand?
I don’t know. You know those chain emails you get where it’s like: “If you don’t forward this to twenty people your mother is going to get murdered”? That’s what I feel about it. If I don’t wear something on my left hand, the show will be fine, but Australia will get blown up — or something like that.
What can you tell me about the shows you did in Australia to support the Orlando shooting victims?
We wanted to do something beyond changing our profile pictures to a rainbow or showing our social media support for Orlando. We wanted the people of Orlando to really know they weren’t alone — that all the way down in Australia, people were on their side. Just the idea that a group of people all the way on the other side of the world were thinking of them and raising money to help. Chrissie Swan, a really good friend of mine — and basically the Oprah of Australia — and I were chatting and decided to put together a show. We ended up doing one in Melbourne and another in Sydney. In total we raised about $150,000.
How do you relate to audiences as a gay man?
My audiences are always a really good mix of people. I actually have a lot of straight people and families who come to my shows, and I really like that. I like making being gay a norm. I don’t think I get out onstage and talk about being gay. When a straight comedian goes out onstage, you wouldn’t say, “Oh there’s a straight comedian doing his straight jokes.” So I just talk about my boyfriends and breakups just like anyone else would. I do get out into a lot of rural parts, and it’s quite possible I’m the first gay person someone’s seen in some of these places. I hope I’m bridging the gap in that way. Sometimes the gay community thinks I’m a bit too commercial or mainstream because I’m on a television show or hosting a commercial reality show. I like to think I’m just a gay man doing a job.
What’s one thing people might not know about you?
I used to sail and am mad about boating. I have my boating license; so I can sail and drive motor and regular yachts. It’s my one manly trait.
If we ever got stranded on a boat together, I would know what to do.
What’s one thing you have to bring with you on the road?
My manager … if you don’t travel with one, you should. He’s very straight acting. Well, he’s straight: a 55-year-old father of two. he’s been my manager forever and is always stuck with me in gay clubs all over the world. He embraces it — a big, deep voiced Aussie guy, who travels with me everywhere.
His name is Andrew, right?
Yes, Andrew is in this season.
Everybody needs to travel with an Andrew.
I might start selling merchandise that says that.
You should: keychains, coffee mugs…
Where can we find information about you?
I’m new to SnapChat and SnapChatting a lot. I don’t really think my content is good, but if you want to find me at any point of the day you can find me there. Otherwise I’m on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook. I’m on all of them but usually get on very late. I never think they’ll last. I remember when Lady Gaga came out and I was like, what’s her name: Lady Gaga? Oh please… I’m very much like that with social media, too. “That won’t take off!” And then I’m reluctantly signing up. SnapChat is a really good way of showing off without showing off, you know what I mean? Like you can say, “Look at how fabulous my day is!” even when it’s not.
When are you back in the States?
I’m always up to come back to the States. I might marry somebody and get my green card, then you’ll never be able to get rid of me.
Last modified: July 27, 2017