Chris Hills: Boxing at a Moment's Notice

When Chris Hills sits down with Valerie Lopez for this week’s episode, it’s hard not to fall fast for the sub­tle south­ern drawl that accom­pa­nies the sto­ries he tells. There is an imme­di­ate open­ness and hon­esty in his tones that dri­ves a sense of inti­ma­cy, some­thing that no doubt helped pro­pel him to the Fun­ni­est Per­son in Austin Semi-finals this year. His chordal capa­bil­i­ties also play a big role in anoth­er of his pas­sions: he’s also an accom­plished beatboxer. 

Hail­ing from Grand Prairie, Texas, a small-ish town near Dal­las, Hills rec­og­nizes it wasn’t the most riv­et­ing scene grow­ing up, but notes it’s ​“turn­ing up now”, and has a ​“pop­pin’ Wal­mart”. He falls in the mold of come­di­ans that seized on their future pro­fes­sion in child­hood. At age 8, he was already aware of the indus­try, by way of being a class clown, and a serendip­i­tous class project that intro­duced him to then star Bill Cos­by. ​“I knew of com­e­dy, but I didn’t even know what com­e­dy was,” he says, more cog­nizant of the act of per­form­ing and get­ting a laugh, than iden­ti­fy­ing it as an art form and career. 

Hills didn’t lim­it his audi­ence to those cap­tive in the class­room (and his teacher), tak­ing a turn at stage plays in high school. It cement­ed his bur­geon­ing love affair with sto­ry­telling. ​“I loved act­ing, love being able to be some­body else,” he says of the realization.

Hills’s first col­lege attempt held his inter­est for ​“about 2 sec­onds” he says (which turns out in Hill-time to be about 3 years); the cul­ture and scene didn’t suit him, but he found a ​“safe haven” in the the­ater depart­ment there. A change of scene was in order, which brought him to Texas State, a place that felt much more like a home. 

Going into the tran­si­tion, Hills didn’t even know if there would be a wel­com­ing place for his comedic ambi­tions, but was deter­mined to cre­ate one if not. As it hap­pens, San Mar­cos had a tight lit­tle scene – which is still grow­ing – but ulti­mate­ly pro­vid­ed the step­ping stone (both in prox­im­i­ty and pro­gres­sion) to Austin. 

I teased beat­box­ing as part of Hills’s reper­toire right out of the gate, but have left you hang­ing for more than a few beats at this point. Beat­box­ing can be inher­ent­ly spon­ta­neous, and that’s a nar­ra­tive that threads direct­ly through his com­e­dy method­ol­o­gy. Hill admits he rarely writes, or records, his sets, often choos­ing a top­ic at an open mic bare­ly in advance of hit­ting the stage. He’ll often grab an idea that hap­pens to be in the fore of his mind, and decides, ​“I’m about to just go and try this out.” 

It’s a tough trick to pull off, but for those that can do it, a con­ver­sa­tion­al style quick­ly emerges that can be near­ly impos­si­ble to fake. Risk isn’t always reward­ed with these endeav­ors, as Hills recounts more than a cou­ple of times that it back­fired. ​“When I failed, it was because I was try­ing to do some­thing new, instead of being myself,” he recounts of one such instance at FPIA, but even in the midst of poten­tial dis­as­ter, called on his abil­i­ty to spin into a rant to pow­er through.

What beat­box­ing brings to Hills’s com­e­dy is only part of the pic­ture; it’s also begun dri­ving an inter­est in cre­at­ing more com­plex musi­cal pieces. In unfa­mil­iar ter­ri­to­ry, he’s doing what he does well once he has a goal in mind: net­work­ing and build­ing skills, like learn­ing to play gui­tar. He has an ambi­tious project in mind, but says it’s going to be on the back burn­er for a lit­tle bit, opt­ing to try to release small­er pieces while he explores styles and refines his tal­ents. All this, while also angling to get more expo­sure on video and film. When he calls up exam­ples like Child­ish Gam­bi­no, it’s clear that he sees putting more of these chal­lenges on his plate isn’t a chore; it’s a gate­way to gen­er­at­ing a sub­stan­tive, var­ied, and respect­ed body of work. 

It’s not easy to pre­dict what the future holds for some­one so spon­ta­neous, but Hills tips that he def­i­nite­ly has ideas in wait­ing, like putting togeth­er a show that ties per­form­ers’ sets with a required musi­cal num­ber. It wouldn’t be the first show to attempt such a meld, but he’d love to cre­ate one to bring his own style and sig­na­ture to it. 

As he puts it, ​“My goal for next year is it’s kind of like doing a lot more for myself as an artist, and not sit­ting around wait­ing.” All this plan­ning ahead sug­gests Chris Hills knows that, some­times, the best way to go off the cuff is to be ready for anything. 

Catch more of Chris Hills at:

• The Year In Review — Cap City Com­e­dy Club Sat­ur­day ¹²⁄₂₉ 8pm 
• 50 First Jokes — Spi­der­house Ball­room Sat­ur­day ¹⁄₄ 9pm