No comedian ever forgets the first time they dared to step onstage and tell jokes. But in the case of 34-year-old standup James Hartenfeld, there are some added layers to the story that make his debut that much more memorable. Like that just weeks prior to his first open mic at Bar of the Gods in 2013, he was in a psychiatric ward receiving treatment for bipolar disorder.
“I wasn’t allowed to drive because everyone was worried about me,” Hartenfeld says, chuckling a bit at the memory as he settles into a table at Bipartisan Cafe on Southeast Stark. “So my mom dropped me off and picked me up. I remember being just so sweaty and just like, I did it.”
Hartenfeld’s mental health and his comedy career have only improved since then. A decade after that fateful night, he has become a fixture on stages around Portland, where he has established himself as one of the most original voices in the current comedy crop. His improv skills and love of pure lunacy are put to great use to both toy with audience expectations and happily fuck around, as evidenced by a recent stage appearance as a weatherman trying to maintain his composure and give the forecast even as he gets tangled up in his green screen.
“I think I’m always rooting for the more silly or goofy crowd to be there,” he says. “I did a show in Eugene recently, and I had to just say the joke and stand—setup, punchline, setup, punchline. Those are harder shows for me, but sometimes I’m surprised when I think a show is gonna go like that and then I can find myself in the moment to be a little more playful.”
To get to a place where he feels free to scat sing or do something ridiculous like repeat the phrase “That’s what’s up” so many times that it becomes pure nonsense feels like a major triumph for Hartenfeld, considering the work he put in to get there. Though a fan of comedy as a kid (he cites Maria Bamford as a major influence), he kept his aspirations to do standup and theater a secret during his time growing up in Humboldt County.
“I knew I loved it, but I didn’t have the support or courage to admit that that’s what I like,” he remembers. “I hid with the bullies who played sports.”
Hartenfeld harbored these ambitions through a brief stint at college, even going so far as to lie to his friends that he was doing open mics. (“I’d be like, ‘I did it. Crushed. They can’t wait to have me back over there.’”) Once he finally did make the leap, he did improv training and took comedy classes with Alex Falcone (who was one of 2015′s Funniest Five) and Tom Johnson. All of it helped him grow the thick skin and the skills to be able to start doing shows around town more frequently in about 2017.
“By 2018 and ‘19,” he says, “I felt like I was having a blast. The work became really fun, and I got to know myself creatively.”
As Hartenfeld has found his community here in Portland, he has been able to expand his reach further and further with each passing year. He makes frequent trips to Seattle and Bend for gigs and carves out a few days every month or so to head down to L.A., both to spend some time with his girlfriend and grab some stage time where he can get it.
Through it all, Hartenfeld has also become a huge advocate for mental health awareness. He recently wrote an impassioned essay about his struggles with bipolar disorder for the local comedy website Laughs PDX and has put together benefit shows to support the work of organizations like Central City Concern.
“Moving to Portland kind of turned into this really big project to heal,” he says. “Healing through therapy and medical stuff with real doctors, but also healing through play and comedy, too. I like the fact that the last 10 years have been better than other years. They haven’t been perfect, but I still feel very fortunate.”
Funniest thing he’s seen in Portland: Comedian Simon Gibson telling a story about an electric fence. “The whole story is inherently funny, but the fact he gets a standing ovation because people don’t understand he’s actually being electrocuted is hilarious,” Hartenfeld says. “It’s basically Simon reenacting The Matrix while accidentally being electrocuted.”