6. What do your children think of your job?
My four year old daughter is supportive of it as she is a big fan of theatre and performing in general. But usually when she sees me at gigs she covers her ears and says: “Too loud. Not funny”. She also frequently asks to join me on stage which I don’t think is a good idea as she could possibly easily upstage me.
7. What’s the worst thing about being a comedian?
For me the single worst feeling is the constant fear of repeating myself on stage. I tend to do many gigs back to back and usually by the third gig I have a constant feeling of Deja Vu during each and every bit. I get the feeling that I am repeating something I said only minutes ago and start to read into the audience reactions that aren’t there. Complete paranoia and imposter syndrome at the same time. An awful version of mindfulness.
8. I think you are very good at what you do (that’s why I’m asking these questions). What do you think of you?
I am very happy about my style of comedy which is is heavily influenced by growing up with older brothers who were very funny and trying to impress them and their friends at all costs. My earliest schtick was mainly impressions and quick recitals of stuff I’d seen on TV. I watched The Simpsons non stop as a kid and could act them out almost them verbatim and that in retrospect was probably my real training!
9. How much do you earn and how much would you like to earn?
Being Icelandic there is an ever present feeling of “this might all end tomorrow”. Bank collapses tend to do that to you and the country is a binge-minded one. Amount wise I’m definitely making millions by now, but that is all relative as my income is in Icelandic Króna, which coin for coin is worth less than a penny. I’d say I make just enough to become evasive and weird while answering a question about it.
10. How important is luck in terms of career success – have you had lucky breaks?
Very important and I’ve had many lucky breaks. The fact that my friends just decided to start doing comedy and invited me to join them without any experience or organizing work required of me was the biggest one, as was doing the Edinburgh Fringe where Nathalie who is now my agent came to my first ever show. Even though some would say that it was the showing up and performing part that was the most important I still consider all of this an incredible lucky turn of events.
11. Alan Davies has said that comedians fall into two categories -golfers and self-harmers. The former just get on with life, the latter are tortured artists. Which are you – or do you think you fit into a third category?
Torn between the two actually. A part of me really wants to be mainstream but I’m nowhere near relaxed enough to enjoy myself and play golf and yet I’m way too straight to expose myself to the extremities of being a creative with roller-coaster like mood swings. If I had to choose either one I’d say I lean more towards the tortured artist - but a very lazy one with a low pain treshold.
12. Who is your favourite person ever and why – not including family or friends or other comedians?
Definitely Ala Anvari who I met in film school in London almost 13 years ago where we first bonded over liking Rudy Ray Moore’s film “The Human Tornado”. We’ve stayed in touch ever since and her is still the funniest person I know in England. I know the question forbids me using a friend as an answer but Ala is technically not a friend as he makes an effort to spell it FREND without an “i.”
13. Do you keep your drawers tidy and if not why not? (please think long and hard about this question, it's to settle an argument with my girlfriend. The future of our relationship could depend on your response).
The truth of the matter is that I have great plans to keep my drawers super organized and tidy but have never managed to maintain it for longer than a few days before the madness begins again. My oversized Pax cupboard from IKEA is a torture device: it mocks and belittles my best thought out plans and mashes all my clothes together in some kind of fabric-based compost heap. Still I remain faithful to this swedish tyrant, thinking constantly that „I can change him“ *.
*(in Icelandic grammar nouns have genders and „skápur“ which means cupboard is a male noun and so referred to as “he”)