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It all just seemed unreal to me.
Is it really happening?
Maybe I did die back in Donbas and its all just a glitch in the matrix?
Lipko takes a pause, then quips, Wait, Letterman is still alive, right?
In my mind, I was always preparing for the war, he says.
Theres this question Im often asked in interviews: Have you had any new ideas for comedy projects?
And to me, that just shows that they have no idea whats going on.
Like, I did come up with a couple of ideas.
Mainly ideas how to survive at war, Lipko says.
Stand-up helps me to remember who I am.
It also helps to remind people about me, Lipko explains.
They will gain a following, they will sell out their gigs.
For me, it would be okay just to survive with my hands and legs intact.
The specials I put out are making the point of reminding that Im still here.
Lipko is 29 now.
(This interview has been translated from Ukrainian.)
I guess thats the only place we can start with.I mean, thats how I felt at the moment.
It just seemed like it all came together right then and there.
The thing is we just dont know how it is, what dying feels like.
I remember these moments when our unit was being shelled, the bombs falling just behind us.
Then theres this idea that we all die, sooner or later.
You just have to come to terms with it.
The difference is we feel it in Ukraine constantly these days that death is always very, very close.
I would never have imagined it then, but that taping is my favorite now.
He has no idea whats coming for him.
I just didnt think about it, period.
Like, the stand-up act I worked on prior to February 24 was to be calledOpportunity.
It was named after the Mars rover; outer space was a big theme for me.
Why do we do comedy?
I believe its the way to turn a problem into a joke.
The pain is there, and it will stay with you.
It will keep hurting you, so the instinct is to devalue it.
So I do stand-up now, basically, for self-preservation.
Its kind of a survival instinct.
And it makes me feel better, at least sometimes.
So you do find that process therapeutic?It does help.
A stand-up gig is essentially just an opportunity to breathe out.
you’re able to make fun of some weird shit you went through for an hour.
If I dont do it, the shit stays with me.
So it gets tough.
Audience reaction helps too.
You realize that someone else needs it.
I mean, the shows are selling out, and not because they want to help a Ukrainian soldier.
Look, I couldve lived the most boring life and wrote about it.
I used to come up with all these superficial problems.
But what is comedy if it isnt lived and thought through pain and suffering?
Yeah, but how do you turn war stories into comedy?
I call it The Stand-Up Committee.
So theres like a unit in my brain that comes up with stand-up material.
But when youre at war, the writers close that door, so theyre basically trapped there.
But they still are there, and they still want to work.
Its like a millstone, ready to grind out the new material.
So the first show I did was me testing this writers room.
I went back to Kyiv for five days, and I had some time to breathe out.
Then I thought,Huh, let me open up that door.
And Id go,Great, the millstone still works!
It was brittle, and the whole process was just boring.
But now I feel that Im working with this huge granite stone.
Its like,Wow, I can carve out anything I want here!
The unique experience comes with a price, though.War is weird, man.
Im not going to tell anything new about it.
Id rather forget all the war stuff.
Thats what I want now: just to forget it.
Id rather keep churning out jokes about therapy and whatnot.
But I cant at least for now.
You must have these moments at war, like,Damn, thats a great set-up for a joke.
Thats a line I could use.There are.
The lines are usually not mine, though.
And they do heckle me.
Its not heckling, per se they just shout something out to me.
They mostly feel that my act is too light.
They got used to the really dark humor we have in the military.
They dont necessarily know that I set out to perform for a live audience of civilians.
So they just shout, because they want me to tell some other story.
And if I did that, there would bea lotof crying in the audience.
But the military guys would probably laugh.
We have these tours now, with stand-up comics joining musical acts at these concerts for soldiers.
Would you do it?I mean, I could.
Its just that I dont think that soldiers on the front lines would want to listen to my act.
That would be a tough gig, because they live through the material themselves.
Thats when the comedy really thrives.
It does need some context, though.
The jokes we tell amongst ourselves just wouldnt land here in Kyiv.
And it would be tough for any soldier to replicate the act, like, in a podcast recording.
You just had to be there, I guess.
Its not only jokes, though.
For instance, we had a great story with this guy, his callsign is Troy.
His unit got ambushed, and the Russians killed most of the team.
Troy was presumed dead too; there was no contact with him for days.
And then he just calls us: Hey, Im okay.
I need an extraction.
Thats fucking legendary stuff, man.
Thats something you see in the movies; thats the story to tell for generations.
I mean, Troy, thats a book deal for you!
But hes not interested in stuff like that.
That brings me to this question of your perspective.
You are not the only Ukrainian comedian in the armed forces, but you are the most high-profile.
That makes up for quite a big platform.
Why is that?Everyone experiences this war in a different way.
There are different service branches, there are different tasks.
How can I possibly speak for everyone?
Like, Im not in the trenches now.
How can I speak to the guys experience on the front lines?
Im in the air-reconnaissance unit I operate drones 800 meters away from the front lines.
The punchline was actually my friends.
You definitely dont want to traumatize them.
And the thing about the front lines is that these light-hearted stories are hard to come by.
How did the Zhovtneviy show come about?That gig was actually a huge gamble.
The idea was to announce my stand-up concert at the biggest Kyiv comedy venue.
The problem was that I wasnt sure that I would be able to go to Kyiv.
But it was just after the Ukrainian counteroffensive in the Kharkiv region, and the tactical situation was stable.
And all you worried about was the concert.Of course I was!
1,700 people bought tickets!
I wouldnt want to let them down.
Thats just me being honest.
If I laugh at the jokes, they usually stay in my act.
I have to be my harshest critic, so I criticize the jokes brutally.
Sometimes Im my worst heckler.
So I tell Serhii on the stage, Hey mate, thank you for your service, good job.
But I did pay money for the gig.
And we, the civilians, do understand that our countrys at war.
We have shellings every other day here in Kyiv.
So like, do your job.
Dont just share your grievances with us.
So it helps me to edit the act, and hopefully it gets leaner and better.
It must help you that the people that go to your gigs are mostly your fans.
The first Zhovtneviy taping, I think I was just rude.
The truth is I dont really know what people in the audience think.
And theres nothing funny.
Thats where the Theres a chance Ive already died bit comes in.
And there was audible crying in the audience.
Thats the challenge for any comedian: How do you pull it off, tone-wise?
Like, there are some jokes in the act, and then theres this dramatic moment.
How do you pull this nosedive off and finish the gig on a positive note?
Whats the air-reconnaissance analogy here?Thats FPV drones for you.
Thats the nosedive equivalent: They are most difficult to operate.
But it feels great!
I keep going back to the talk we had after a show a couple of years back.
And now youre at war.
It seems like a discussion for peaceful times.
Was I robbed of the time?
Every day people are losing their homes, theyre losing limbs.
So I dont worry about the war ruining my stand-up career goals.
Actually, being able to perform stand-up in those circumstances brings me a lot of joy.
Im just glad that even in wartime, I found another way to be useful.
It seems almost trivial to ask how you have changed after this year and a half of full-scale war.
Im definitely willing to take more responsibility.
But youre honest with yourself, and you stand strong.
I dont have any skeletons in my closet.
And when I have an opportunity, I can share my feelings and my experience with people onstage.
Thats another big shift for me: I have this longing to communicate with people.
I want to perform I do but I also want to talk to people from the stage.
Have you put any thought into what you want to do after this war ends?
The Ukrainian language is great, and it’s possible for you to always turn subtitles on.
Make it a world tour!
It would be great to put out some shows for them.
I would be glad to perform at these events.
Another thing I keep coming back to is about the stand-up itself.
Im so glad to hear it.
But in wartime, you understand that comedy can only go so far.
I guess what Im trying to say here is that I look at stand-up differently now.
Its not the most important thing for me, but its a great way to help.
So its not comedy for the sake of comedy, its comedy for a bigger cause.
I basically treat it as an instrument that can make a difference.
