Mike Unson in the living room of the house that has been his home since he was born (photo by PRANZ KAENO BILLONES)

Stand-up comic Mike Unson lives in a three-storey abode in Makati City. It’s the house where he was born and he grew up in. When his mom Bernadette J. Unson (a school administrator) and dad  Cesar B. Unson (a businessman) first moved into what was then called Arthur St., the surrounding areas were filled with vacant lots and the road was bad. “They were the first residents in this area,” Mike says of his parents. He witnessed the neighborhood develop. He relates that the owner of car business on the corner initiated a road improvement project. “I think my dad used PR skills on him para paubutin sa amin ang daan,” says Mike.

Today, Arthur St. is Binay St. and is a semi-industrial and semi-residential area with a row of apartments, the motor shop, a manufacturing plant, a supermarket chain and the “enduring” Cash & Carry just walking distance from the Unson residence.

The 33-year-old guy is not ashamed to admit that he lives with his parents, older brother Jun-jun, and younger sister Inky. In fact, he likes including it as material in his performances. “I have no plans of moving out,” he says. “It’ll be mine someday. All mine.”

The pictorial crew, composed of the Manila Bulletin staff and Mike’s booking agent and handler, reply with hearty laughter upon hearing that. When Mike continues, he is very serious. “I’ve never seen the need to move out. We’re pretty tight here.” He cites for instance, that the entire family always does things together, and that every year, they go up to Baguio to spend the holidays. “If any one of us three siblings moves out, it’ll be because of marriage or to work abroad.”

We wouldn’t blame him for staying. Aside from the great company of his family, the home is charming, comfortable and, like Mike, is a treasure trove of stories.

Secret passageway

The narrow garage holds one car. “We used to hold children’s birthday parties here,” says Mike.

He also reveals that the family has three other cars, one of which is his own Nissan Bluebird that he drives to and from gigs. To show where the others are parked, Mike leads us to a narrow alley from the side to the back leading to a small metal gate that opens to the apartment compound next door. There, one finds a driveway with a shed, and enough space for several cars. The car of Mike’s father, a Nissan Cefiro, is covered with waterproof fabric. Mike’s car is right beside it.

There’s a story behind all this: Their neighbor moved and decided to rent out the place. Mike’s dad was  appointed administrator of the next-door property, thus, giving the Unsons parking privileges. “Whenever my dad takes in a new tenant, there’s always a condition. Dapat iisa lang ang kotse or walang kotse – para makapag-park pa rin kami!” says Mike.

Objects of interest

The house contains interesting pieces of art.

In the first floor, on the wall leading to the den hangs a 1986 painting entitled “What She Saw When She Closed Her Eyes,” by former Philippine Panorama literary editor and multi-awarded writer and poet Cirilo Bautista who is Mike’s uncle. “My Mom’s sister is married to him,” says Mike.

Over at the living room, there is a small framed painting, obviously a find from abroad. It shows a Renaissance man seated on a table, seemingly gazing into the future. “I think that’s Nostradamus,” Mike says, referring to the French seer.

Like almost all dining rooms across the Philippines, the Unsons have a Last Supper art work, but not just any picked up from a gallery or a furniture store. Theirs is a metal rendition, a gift to the family by no less than the Archbishop of Manila, the late Jaime Cardinal Sin.

The six-seater dining table with glass top, likewise, is a gift from Mike’s aunt who lives in the U.S. “This was shipped to us, pa,” says Mike.

Razor-sharp wit

Perhaps the most interesting pieces in the home are tucked away in Mike’s bedroom: a collection of knives. He brings out a Spyderco Civilian, whose price – according to the Internet – costs around $250.00. “It’s the same brand used by Hannibal Lecter in the novel (Silence of the Lambs),” says Mike. “It’s a one-hand knife that you open with your thumb,” he adds.

Mike has about 10 to 15 other knives. He puts two in his pockets for utility purposes like cutting rope or perhaps, peeling fruits. “I carry them with me, except during gun ban because knives aren’t allowed at that time, too.” And just to dispel any sinister agenda, Mike says, “These things are of legal length.”

He declares that he takes after his paternal grandfather, who was a Guerilla, and an uncle – also a knife collector.

Taking center stage

Mike finished Production Design at the College of St. Benilde in 1998. A practicum at the Cultural Center of the Philippines led him to being stage manager for Perry Zevidal Ballet and Ballet Philippines. “I was the one who would knock on the dressing room doors and say, ‘Dancers places!’” He was also part of the stage management team of Manila production of Miss Saigon. Mike worked behind-the-scenes until about 2002 when he made the shift to stand-up comedy.

The guy writes his own material based on observations and research. He scribbles his spiels on a Corona spiral notebook, one of which he brings out during the interview to show us. “In this, I have my set list and my record of laughs per minute,” he says.

Laughs per minute?

For a time, Mike recorded his performances and took note of each time the crowd laughed. “Professionals the likes of Seinfeld get six laughs per minute,” he cites to illustrate. Mike’s own record is not bad. “I would get from 2.8 laughs to as high as 4 laughs per minute.”

He did this until Fil-Am stand-up Rex Navarette admonished him to stop. “It’s good to do that,” Mike says, quoting Rex. “But that’s not the point of comedy, that’s not the point of stand-up.”

Mike may have stopped counting but he continues to be very professional and scientific with the way he works. “I hate those who come into a bar, get a scratch of paper, and then write down their jokes an hour before their set.”

Mike always makes sure to come to the venue very early, to know the composition of the audience (age bracket, gender, interests) early on and craft spiels that would relate to them. “It’s what I call ‘profiling’ the audience,’ says Mike. 

We’d like to think it’s his way of making his public “feel at home.”