Elise Cole had always wanted to be a writer and was drawn to performance, but never planned on being a stand-up comedian. In her early 30s, while attending grad school, a chance encounter with the founder of Brave New Theater started her on the path. After getting on stage for the first time, she was hooked.
Now, over a decade later, the Twin Cities-based stand-up is heading to Cincinnati, featuring for fellow stand-up comic Tabari McCoy at Go Bananas Comedy club. It’s her first time in the Queen City, but not her first time touring different cities.
Since she started in comedy, a lot has changed, but Cole’s approach hasn’t. She still leans on her storytelling roots, even as performing has become more complicated, especially as an Iranian Jew in the aftermath of Oct. 7 and the current U.S.-Israel-Iran war.
While it’s been more complicated, Cole decided to lean into the complexities of her experience and identity. Drawing on her past experiences as an academic, her family growing, and now her experiences raising a family of her own.
We sat down with Elise to talk about comedy, her first album, Real Hot Dumb Dumbs, and her upcoming show.
Editor’s Note: This q and a was edited for Length and Clarity
Q: You’re coming to town in two weeks to perform at Go Bananas, right?
A: That’s correct. Yeah. It’s kind of a cool story. There’s a comedian based in Cincinnati named Tabari McCoy, and he’ll be headlining, so I’m doing the feature spot at Go Bananas. But Tabari has an album called Remarkable you can listen to on all streaming platforms.
He and I met about 10 years ago when I was first starting out. I thought he was really funny, and he thought I was funny, and we just sort of stayed in touch on social media. And so he reached out to me a couple of months ago and said, ” You know, “I know this is not a headlining spot, but it’s a new market, and it would get a foot in the door at Go Bananas. Are you interested in coming out to feature for me at my home club?”
And I said, yeah, of course I’d love to. So that’s how I’m going to end up in Cincinnati.
Q: You said you started comedy about 10 years ago—had you always been in performing arts, or was this something you decided to try later?
A: Kind of both. My parents were huge fans of all kinds of comedy—stand-up especially. My dad would rent old VHS tapes of SNL’s Best Of, like Dan Aykroyd and Steve Martin and Martin Short and Lily Tomlin, all the greats from the ’70s. We had vinyl stand-up albums we’d listen to, so I grew up with that.
I always loved comedy, but I didn’t think it was a real job. I waited tables for most of my adolescent and adult life while going to school. And one night, I had a customer who turned out to be an original company member at the Brave New Workshop in Minneapolis. We started chatting, and he could tell I’d been on stage before. He kept asking if I’d done acting, improv, and stand-up.
I told him that stand-up was basically my life’s dream, but I’d never done it. His name was Fred McGrath. He gave me his information and said, “I don’t meet people like you every day. I think you’ve got something special. If you want to do this, you should give it a shot.”
He coached, mentored, and taught me the basics. And honestly, if he hadn’t come in that night, I never would have started. I didn’t even know how you go from never doing an open mic to being a comedian. It just felt impossible.
Q: You mentioned growing up around comedy—would you describe your family as having a strong sense of humor?
A: I think it was a little bit of both—an appreciation for comedy and also needing it. My parents were working all the time, and my brother and I were in gymnastics constantly; it was a stressful household in many ways.
So when we had those moments where everyone was home at the same time, and we could put on a comedy record—something we all knew by heart—it was a way to connect. It was a way to laugh rather than think about everything else.
Comedy was kind of a release valve. And now, as a parent, I understand that a lot more.
Q: What did the beginning look like for you once you actually started doing stand-up?
A: The biggest thing Fred helped me with was understanding the mechanics—setup, punchline, callback, the rule of threes. Taking something from my life and turning it into a joke.
I had already signed up to do a Moth Story Slam in St. Paul. It was about 300 people, standing-room-only. I worked on that story with him for a few weeks, got it down to five minutes, and went out there and got huge laughs—like multiple applause breaks—and a standing ovation.
That was it. I was like, “Oh, this is it forever.”
Then I started doing open mics, which are… very different. Back of a bar, late at night, other comedians who don’t care about your jokes. But I didn’t care. That moment of connecting with an audience—of sharing something real and having people laugh together—felt magical.
So I just kept going. Five, six nights a week, even while in grad school and raising a toddler.
Q: When you started, you were already a parent and in school. How did you balance all of that?
A: It was a lot. At the time, my son was about two, and he was a miracle sleeper—7 p.m. to 7 a.m. So I’d put him to bed, go out and hit as many open mics as I could, come home late, and sometimes have to be up the next morning with him all day.
I was also in grad school at night, so I’d go to class and then go straight to an open mic after. It was exhausting, but I didn’t care. I was so hooked.
Q: Your identity has always been part of your material. How did that start, and how has it evolved?
A: The very first tight three minutes I ever wrote was about being an Iranian Jew. I’ve always talked about it on stage.
When I started, Iran wasn’t really on anyone’s radar in the way it is now. People sort of understood the joke in a vague way. My opening line is, “I’m an Iranian Jew, so people don’t know whether to hate me or hate me,” and back then it was more like, “Oh yeah, I guess that’s complicated.”
Now people are like, “Wait—what is that like?” or “I didn’t even know that was a thing.” I actually retired that joke for years, and now I’ve brought it back, and it hits twice as hard.
At the same time, I think my relationship to talking about being Jewish has changed. I used to wonder if I should talk about it less so people wouldn’t get bored. Now I’m like, no—this is my life. This is who I am. If people are uncomfortable, they don’t have to watch.
Q: Have things shifted for you on stage in the last couple of years, especially with everything going on in the world?
A: Yeah, definitely. Before, the material I did about being Jewish was funny, but I didn’t even realize I was doing it in a way where we weren’t the butt of the joke until someone pointed that out to me. And that stuck with me.
After everything that’s happened more recently, something shifted in how I see myself in relation to audiences. I think before, I assumed people saw me as basically the same as them. And then there were moments where I realized, oh—maybe I’m being seen as more different than I thought.
So now I lean into it more. I don’t try to soften it or make it more palatable. I still want it to be funny, obviously, but I’m not going to step away from it.
What’s interesting is that in some ways, audiences respond better. At clubs, people are like, “That’s insane that people think that,” and they laugh with you. But at open mics, it can still be really tense.
Comedy can offer a kind of middle ground, though. Everything feels so binary right now, and when you can get people laughing at the same thing, even for a moment, you’re suddenly on the same side of something.
Q: Has your approach to writing or performing changed as you’ve gotten more experienced?
A: I’m definitely looser on stage now. When you’re the headliner, there’s an implicit trust—you don’t have to earn it the same way. That lets you play more.
My material has also shifted a lot toward my life as it is now. A lot of my jokes come directly from conversations with my kids—things they say, questions they ask about the world.
Those moments are funny, but sometimes kind of terrifying. You’re trying to explain really complicated things in real time to a kid who doesn’t have the context yet. That contrast is where a lot of the comedy comes from.
Q: What’s your writing process like?
A: I write everything out. I have a big storage container full of yellow legal pads—every page covered, front and back. I write every single syllable and then pare it down from there.
Q: You’ve put out an album already—what’s next for you?
A: I recorded my first album, Real Hot Dum Dums, in 2022, right before my second son was born. It’s about 35 minutes.
The new material is more about where I am now—parenting, conversations at home, and just navigating the world as it is today. That second album should be coming out soon.
Q: Where can people find you online?
A: My social media is all Elise Cole Comedian—Instagram and TikTok—and my website is EliseColeComedy.com. The first album is already out on Spotify and iTunes.
Q: What are you expecting from your first time performing in Cincinnati?
A: I’m really excited. It’s my first time there, and I’ll be at Go Bananas from April 30 through May 2. There are five shows total, so hopefully we get some great crowds. I’m just looking forward to being in a new city and seeing how audiences respond.