Martin Amini knows the star is flashing above his head. The crowd’s chanting “¡Beso!” Two complete strangers are kissing on stage. Somewhere, an Instagram Reel is about to go viral. And Amini? He’s already moving on to the next bit.
“I got the star right now,” he laughs. “You remember Super Mario? When you get the star, you just want to cause as much chaos as possible before the music runs out.”
It’s not just metaphor. Amini, who came up in D.C.'s highly literate, highly diverse stand-up scene, is in his moment—and he's not coasting. His first major special, I’m Transcending, just dropped, and he’s already teasing Back in the Gym, a raw, intimate follow-up filmed in the tiny 56-seat Room 808, the club he owns back in D.C. “The contrast is wild,” he says. “From a packed theater with 1,000 people to 50 folks right in your face while you’re working out brand-new jokes. But that’s the fun of it. That’s the art.”
Amini’s ascent hasn’t been overnight—more like a decade in the making. “This is year ten. Year seven, eight, nine, that’s when I found my voice,” he says. “People weren’t just laughing at my jokes. They wanted to know what I thought. That’s when I knew.”
That voice—equal parts Bolivian-Iranian heritage, D.C. street smarts, and a whole lot of bus-stop roasting—has made him one of the sharpest, most agile crowd work comics on the scene. And not just heckler clapbacks. He turns chaos into connection. Literally.
“I wanted to take it up a notch,” he says of his now-infamous crowd kisses. “Other comics ask people where they’re from. I’m like, can I get these two strangers to kiss—with full consent—and the whole crowd yelling ‘¡Beso!’” Somehow, he does.
He’s not naive about the social media ecosystem that now defines a comic’s lifespan. “These poor kids coming up now, man,” he says. “You have to be a comedian, a video editor, a publicist, a cinematographer. It’s like, I’m just trying to tell jokes. Now I gotta know Final Cut?”
But if Amini’s special does anything besides make you laugh, it makes a case for dark comedy done right. He ends I’m Transcending with a story about his parents that pulls zero punches, and still somehow hits with warmth. “You’ve spent an hour with me by that point,” he explains. “You know where I’m coming from. You’ve heard my voice. You know I’m not just throwing shock for shock’s sake. It’s my story.”
And it’s a story he’s just beginning to tell. “The jokes in the special? I wrote them in 2018. The stuff I’m about to drop? Written a month ago. I’ve never done this before—releasing jokes that fresh. But that’s where we are now. If it’s ripe, pick it.”
His advice for longevity is the same whether you’re doing bits or beats. “The ones who last are the ones who are authentic. Your fans want something new—but they also want something that feels the same. That’s the sweet spot. Just be yourself, and keep being yourself.”
