Gavin Matts doesn’t exactly do warm-and-fuzzy. The Vancouver-born comic, known for his dark, dry, and perfectly sarcastic take on life, is back in town for five shows this fall; and in true Gavin fashion, he talks about it with equal parts honesty and bite. What could’ve been a polite hometown-hero interview turned into something much funnier: a mix of blunt confessions, sharp observations, and the kind of self-deprecating humor that makes you laugh and wince at the same time.
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You’re coming back to Vancouver this fall for five shows at Slate. What does it mean to you to return to your hometown and perform for audiences who first saw you when you were starting out?
Gavin Matts: Wow, tough question. Honestly, it’s a little frustrating. I don’t think anybody really likes going home. I’m happy to perform anywhere, but the “hometown show” thing is a bit of a mental hurdle. When you leave a place and then come back, people remember you from then, and there’s this secondhand embarrassment—like, don’t remind me of that!
Sometimes you almost wish you could “Men in Black” everyone’s memories so it feels like the first time they’ve seen you. But you can’t stop people who know you from coming, and then they act like it’s such a huge deal, like you’re winning an award. So yeah—it’s complicated. But to keep it short: I’m excited to be back.
Slate will be transformed into a pop-up comedy club for Vancouver Is Funny. What excites you about performing in such a unique space?
Gavin: I don’t know the space at all, but I do know Vancouver has lost multiple comedy clubs since I left seven years ago. That’s sad, because I started at the Comedy Mix on Burrard and Yuk Yuk’s across the bridge. Those were the places where you could begin and really do comedy.
So the idea of creating new spaces is exciting. It gives more people the chance to start, find a community, and build a scene. That’s really important, especially for young comics.
Since moving to New York and becoming a regular at the Comedy Cellar and The Stand, what have you learned there that you couldn’t have learned anywhere else?
Gavin: Those clubs are high-pressure environments, especially when you’re new to the city. I never went to post-secondary school, so those places became my education. They helped me figure out who I am, not just as a comedian but as a person.
The Stand was an early home for me, and it took longer to get into the Comedy Cellar, but both were important. They shaped me in ways that would’ve been impossible anywhere else. I guess the biggest thing I’ve learned is just becoming more myself, even if I can’t always pinpoint what that means.
Vulture named you one of the comedians to watch in 2024. How did that recognition impact you personally and professionally?
Gavin: Professionally, it’s great to be on a list. Personally, I felt like I should have been on it a couple years earlier. When they told me, I kind of rolled my eyes. But it does mean a lot—it’s validating. Comedy can feel delusional at times, so when someone recognizes you like that, you’re like, “OK, maybe I’m not crazy. Maybe I was right about myself.”
Your special has been described as introspective and sharp. How do you balance honesty and vulnerability with humor when writing material?
Gavin: I just talk about what I want to talk about. I’m not trying to chase hot-button issues. I try to have empathy for people, and that naturally brings honesty into it. Honestly, it’s easier than it sounds.
If you were to watch Progression back now, is there a moment you feel most proud of, or something you’d change?
Gavin: There are definitely things I’d cut. I had a Girl Scouts joke I felt was really smart, and some stuff about billionaires I think I was ahead on. But other bits I’d take out because they don’t really track anymore. I don’t like rewatching myself though. It’s like hearing your own voice on tape, but worse—you’re hearing jokes you wrote. I just feel I’ve gotten better since then.
Audiences also know you from Easter Sunday and Hacks. How does acting feed into your stand-up, or vice versa?
Gavin: Hacks was amazing. That came through stand-up, and it was six months of acting work, which I loved. I’d definitely do more of that.
Comedy specials and acting roles reach different audiences. Do you approach those opportunities differently?
Gavin: Not really. I see it as one thing leading to another. Someone might see me on Hacks, look me up, and then find my stand-up. People messaged me when they recognized me, and that felt good. I don’t think of myself as famous or anything—I can walk around unnoticed—but it’s nice when the work connects.
Beyond stand-up, do you see yourself leaning more into acting, writing, or producing?
Gavin: Yeah. I pitched a TV show in June, but it didn’t sell. Still, that’s the goal. Honestly, I don’t want to be doing stand-up forever. I don’t see myself still grinding it out in my 40s. It’s not that others can’t—there are amazing older comics—but personally, I’d rather evolve into other projects like writing and producing.
What’s funny about Vancouver?
Gavin: I don’t know if Vancouver is funny. I love it there. But if I had to pick something—it’s how expensive housing is and how people who grew up there now live way out in Port Moody or further. That’s “funny,” in a sad way.
Final question: if you were giving advice to comedians starting today, what would you tell them?
Gavin: My first instinct is: reconsider your life choices, maybe don’t commit to a dying industry in 2025. Learn Adobe Premiere, get a camera, and learn how to use AI.
But honestly? Find a group of like-minded people who are also doing stand-up. Hang out with them all the time, take it slow, and have fun. That makes your comedy better. And yes, it gets competitive, but usually not with your real friends. The best part of stand-up is watching your friends succeed—or even bomb—and sharing that experience together.
To see Gavin perform his hometown shows in Vancouver, buy tickets below:
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