Photo courtesy of Louis C.K.'s website

Louis C.K. opens his 2010 stand-up comedy film Hilarious by reminding his audience of their mortality. "You're all going to die," he tells them. "And then you're going to be dead for way longer than you're going to be alive. That's mostly what you're going to be. You're just dead people that didn't die yet." That he can get a laugh out of such bleak material-- and the audience does laugh heartily-- is due to his precise timing, genial stage presence, and a starkly honest style that blends relentless self-deprecation with a genuine sense of wonder at the world.

That unique outlook has sustained C.K. over 25 years in the stand-up business, weathering the highs (writing for the first season of "Late Night With Conan O'Brien") and the lows (the early cancellation of "The Dana Carvey Show", where he was head writer). Currently, the 43-year-old is cresting more than ever: Hilarious was released on DVD and CD to much acclaim earlier this year and his brilliant, surreal, and weirdly heartbreaking sitcom "Louie"-- which C.K. writes, acts, directs, and edits-- begins its second season on FX June 23.

We spoke with the comic on a weekday morning, and he talked about offending people, surviving in comedy, and why he's "just like yeast."

"When you write from your gut and let the stuff stay flawed and don't let anybody tell you to make it better, it can end up looking like nothing else."

Pitchfork: You're involved in every creative aspect of "Louie", right down to editing. Why do you maintain that level of control?

C.K.: To me, the default is to do it all-- write, shoot, and then cut it together. If you were writing a book and somebody said, "How come you also wrote the last eight chapters?" you'd say, "Because I was writing it." That's the way I look at it. And I wouldn't let myself edit if I couldn't do a good job. Last year, I had an editor who did some of the episodes, and he's a great editor, but this show is much more personal than other things I've done.

Sometimes I find it easier to keep it all in my head because then, if I'm on set and think of this weird little moment that I could cut into the scene, I don't even have to translate all these things to everybody. I can just shoot it and put it in later. It lets the show come from my gut more.

There's a lot that happens with collaboration in movies and TV that is phenomenal. But at the same time, there's some perfecting that goes with it. You all get together and work on stuff and make it perfect, but sometimes perfect looks the same as other perfect. As a stand-up, when you watch an open-mic comedian who just started, you get this this nostalgic envy because you'll never be a new comedian again. There's a rawness that somebody who doesn't know what the fuck they're doing brings to stand-up and acting that's really great. So when you write from your gut and let the stuff stay flawed and don't let anybody tell you to make it better, it can end up looking like nothing else.

Pitchfork: There's a very specific visual and narrative feel to "Louie". Are you working from a vision in your head that you're trying to realize, or are you figuring out what you want as you go along?

C.K.: Sometimes I'll picture a really specific cinematic transition or moment. Like, when we shot the "Dogpound" episode-- where the pot-smoking neighbor throws a jug of water out the window and smashes a car (below)-- I knew I wanted the camera to be over his shoulder, and I wanted the the car to get destroyed in a minimal shot where the camera left the car before you really took in what happened. I wanted to have a spectacular stunt that we barely even showed.

Watch the water-dropping scene from season one of "Louie":

Pitchfork: Is anything going to be different about this upcoming season?

C.K.: I'm going to have a bunch of new characters. And I'm going to try a new set of lenses; it's going to look a little different. I don't think I'll do as much handheld stuff because I got a lot of feedback from people saying it's too documentary-style, which it was never supposed to be. I don't mind when people see things differently from what I intended but, because of all of these reality shows where folks are followed around by cameras all the time, some people see a handheld camera for two seconds and they think it's one of those. This is a decidedly scripted, un-improvised fictional show, and I think people need to put it in that category in their brains so they can go with some of the leaps I take in logic and reality.

"Credibility lasts about two cycles of bad material, and then you'll probably never get it back."

Pitchfork: Right now seems like a particularly up moment in your career. Is there any security in that?

C.K.: Oh, Christ, no. It's still show business and based on people going, "I like that guy," which can evaporate on a global level in an instant. Through all the years of ups and downs, I've picked up a lot of skills and learned ways to take care of myself. I do feel more security now, but it's because the recent downs have not been as bad; when I fall from where I am now, I won't fall as far. I'll be OK.

Pitchfork: You've developed a large and loyal fan base over the past few years. Are you surprised by that at this stage in your career?

C.K.: Yeah. Because of Twitter and YouTube, you can have a fan base that stays there waiting for you, and they don't necessarily have to be advertised to, which costs a lot. But again, it's all very precarious because all of these people could grow up to another part of their life and just decide that they don't like my comedy anymore.

Right now, my stuff is finding a lot of people, so I have some credibility. That's comfortable. But I have to keep surprising them. Credibility lasts about two cycles of bad material, and then you'll probably never get it back. If you let people down, that's really hard to come back from-- harder than climbing from nothing to something, even.

"I'm just like yeast-- I eat sugar and I shit alcohol."

Pitchfork: Your comedy balances some pretty intense self-loathing with a sense of wonder; cynicism and optimism.

C.K.: I feel strongly in all directions. My dad is Mexican and I lived in Mexico from when I was one until I was eight. I remember living in Mexico City and then coming to live in America. That has a big effect on a person. America is a pretty amazing place, and it's even more amazing to come to from a place like Mexico. I don't forget it. And I grew up in a generation that had exponential technological advances. It's insane how different it is.

I think it's a much bigger shift than it was for my parents. My mother was born in 1940, so when she was growing up, they had cars and airplanes and television and movies, and by the time she got to when I was born, 1967, they had slightly smaller cars and televisions that were color and bigger planes. Now there are TVs in your phone, a phone in your car, cars that have fucking navigation in them that talk to you. That GPS shit is something that nobody gives a shit about, and it's incredible that you can do that. You can ask your car where you can get something to eat, and it'll take you there. It's crazy.

Watch a bit about technology from Hilarious:

Pitchfork: All of that is so obvious, but we don't even see it. Do you want people to take away a message like that from your stand-up or your show?

C.K.: I find that when people laugh really hard, it's usually because they're connecting and identifying in a way that they hadn't considered. That's my payoff. I'm not interested in other people thinking differently. I don't care. I'm not even educated; it's something that I'm not qualified to do. I'm just like yeast-- I eat sugar and I shit alcohol. And there's a huge culture that goes with that. Alcohol creates massive shifts in world history, and it changes people's lives. People get pregnant because of alcohol. But the yeast doesn't give a fuck. The yeast isn't going, "I really want to help people loosen up and bring passion into Irish people's lives."

"If the Jackass guys had grown up with a different group of people, they could've have been performance artists at Bard College, and people would be writing papers about them."

Pitchfork: Some of your humor comes from thinking before reasoning-- the immediate reaction before logic sets in. That seems like a useful way to handle material that some people might consider offensive.

C.K.: When I say awful things, I think it's clear to the audience that I just stumbled into a terrible part of my brain. It's just where my brain goes first. The difference is that I said it out loud. That's all. It's just a big excuse to say awful things. But people know that. They intrinsically trust somebody: He's just fucking around. People get tired of processing life in a linear way. When you watch my show or my stand-up, you're opening the top button on your coat and sitting back, but with your brain. When I say vulgar things, it's usually not to be mean or sexually charged. It's just a dumb lashing-out in a direction that's inappropriate.

Pitchfork: Most of the time you're able to turn that back in on yourself so that you become the punchline, too.

C.K.: Definitely. If you're using dangerous words, as long as you're turning the gun on yourself, nobody cares. The Jackass movies are honestly some of the best movies I've ever seen. I laugh so hard at them. Those guys are geniuses. If they had grown up with a different group of people, they could've been performance artists at Bard College, and people would be writing papers about them. There's a real beauty in it, and there's a release to watching those movies. But it's because they're doing things to each other as friends. If they were going around and hitting old ladies in the head, it would be horrible. What if Hitler had won the whole thing and we were all living in Nazi earth? There would probably be a version of Jackass where they're doing that shit to Jews. That would be funny to Hitler, but it wouldn't be funny to me-- not because it's anti-Semitic but because it's just not good comedy. But I don't think I should always humiliate myself on stage, I just find a laugh at the end of that rope a lot.

Pitchfork: Why did you film Hilarious as a theatrical release, as opposed to an hour-long television special?

C.K.: When I grew up, comedians like Bill Cosby, Richard Pryor, and Eddie Murphy made concert films. It hadn't been done for a while, so I thought it might be interesting to show people that again. And I have pedigree as a filmmaker, so I thought I could combine those two things and try to come up with a cinematic approach to stand-up.

"Some people think it's demeaning to victims if you ever say anything out-loud about sexual abuse of children. I don't know if that's true."

Pitchfork: How do you translate stand-up into something cinematic?

C.K.: A lot of stand-up specials for cable are meant to glorify the comedian. They put you in a really beautiful theater, and sometimes they even blow a little smoke in there to make it misty and sweet. They put a chandelier in there. They light the audience-- which is not good for comedy because people need to be in the dark to laugh without inhibition. They make the guy look like he's a big rock star. But comedy's not really glamorous. It doesn't enhance comedy for it to look good. I wanted to show it as a performance, to convey the first-person feeling of being at the show. A lot of what I did was about lens choice and how we shot it, which I hadn't really done with a special before.

Pitchfork: You started making short films very early in your career. What attracted you to that medium, especially as a comedian?

C.K.: It was a way to make movies without having enough money to make them. Short films are cool because you can play with visual and character ideas for a short time. My show is sort of a short-film anthology, and I'm able to tell little stories that don't necessarily carry a whole episode in terms of narrative. I like the audience not being sure what they're getting. I think it's more fun to watch something when you're discovering it as you go along.

Watch a scene from season one of "Louie" co-starring Ricky Gervais:

Pitchfork: Do you feel disconnected from the material on Hilarious now that the movie is out on DVD?

C.K.: I don't care about it at all. I would have a hard time doing that show now. I would have to watch it a few times. One reason I don't keep material for very long is because I try to get back to that open-mic energy. If I kept doing bits over and over again, they start to take on a performed feeling, and then it loses that innocence-- that feeling of just fucking around. That's one reason why it's funny.

I've gotten angry e-mails from people about this bit where I fuck around talking about child molesting. Some people just don't think you should say those words and think it's demeaning to victims if you ever say anything out-loud about sexual abuse of children. I don't know if that's true. I think humor's a good thing. I also think that it's people on CNN that exploit victims by getting off on saying how horrible a thing is. People like Nancy Grace just putting other people's pictures on TV and calling them monsters-- the way they talk about is just so selfish. It makes another person's awful thing all about themselves, and then they share it with the country, which nobody needs to be doing. I'm going to a part of a person's brain that scares the shit out of them and making a joke. But it's safe.

Some people can handle it, and some people can't. I understand that, and I don't argue with somebody not wanting to think about things in a certain context. If the whole country had to have the same conversation that was safe for everybody, it would be a pretty awful place to live. There wouldn't be a conversation.