A balding, middle-aged white man doesn’t get much attention, but perhaps that’s what comedian Jim Gaffigan is looking for. Gaffigan’s clever delivery and universally funny subject matter have his performances ranked among the most popular standup acts on Comedy Central. Now Gaffigan has done a one-hour special, “Beyond the Pale,” which will premiere Sunday on Comedy Central. Coupled with the release is a CD/DVD of the performance, due out Feb. 7 and chock-full of extra features. Pulse had the chance to talk with Gaffigan about his show, his Midwestern upbringing and his role as a “doughy white guy.”

Rob Lombardi: What can we expect from the upcoming special?

Jim Gaffigan: My old Comedy Central specials they did in 2000, so I was dying to do another one. I made a point of doing it in Chicago because I’m from the Midwest and I found it odd that they never did any of those “Comedy Central Presents” outside New York or L.A. It’s weird; I almost feel like on the coasts they treat the Midwest like, “Do you guys even have cameras there?” I guess I was just excited to do a special and really stretch out with what I encountered in touring for the past couple years. People – not that I don’t love being known as the manatee guy – but people still think it’s the only joke I do. My act has evolved significantly. But what do I know? I’m biased.

RL: So you’re the “Midwest comic,” then?

JG: I mostly grew up in Chesterton, Indiana, outside of Gary, which is where they make the poo smell. If you’ve ever driven by there, you know what I’m talking about.

RL: How did a Midwest guy wind up in New York?

JG: No one in my family – or even that I knew – was in the entertainment industry. I always wanted to be but it seemed like something people from California did. I was raised in a family where wearing a coat and tie is success, so it was one of those things that I didn’t embrace until I was in my mid-20s. It was an itch I always had, but Comedy Central didn’t have the huge impact it does today. I always dreamed of going to New York, though. I grew up in a small town, and I always wanted to go to the East Coast because I was this pale guy in an all-white community. So I wanted somewhere where everyone looked a little weird. I always imagined New York was filled with misfits, and I came not knowing I would actually pursue [a comedy career]. I started doing improv on a dare from a friend. [Standup] is the perfect combination of control and absolute chaos.

RL: What material in the new special do you think really hits the mark?

JG: It’s all new to Comedy Central, but I don’t know – the Hot Pocket thing is pretty amazing. It’s something I started thinking – that the commercials were silly and that the food was garbage – but I didn’t realize it was something completely universal, that everyone kind of eats it and has the same response to it. But we all keep coming back. It’s also fun to do religious material. I always joke around and say it’s a great way to lose the audience because they think you’re making fun of Jesus or you’re a religious freak. I want to walk that line. I kind of value myself on not being one of those comedians who just says irreverent things or says ‘fuck’ every other word. I like to touch on topics and steer close to the line without losing people or just getting points for being irreverent.

RL: So do you have a lot of religious people upset with you?

JG: That’s the great irony of it. I’m friends with these comedians whose acts are incredibly outspoken. Like David Cross – he’s very much outspoken and he’s out there burning bridges and he doesn’t give a shit. I kind of aspire to be universal and I don’t have that many run-ins. People just hear you mention the word Jesus and they just kind of assume you’re making fun of Jesus or that you’re trying to preach or something like that. I suppose it could be offensive to someone, but my wife is really, really Catholic. And she would not let me get away with anything that would jeopardize her getting into heaven.

RL: Part of your act is talking from the audience’s perspective. How did you develop it?

JG: I think some of it is inspired by a joke I had about my sister and it definitely evolved into kind of this inner-monologue going off of what the audience says. I would say it became a big part of my act five years ago. I did it out of a function of necessity in New York. If you’re going out after [Dave] Attell and [Greg] Giraldo, who are great comedians, you need to differentiate yourself. I also wanted something unique – if I’m going to talk about cake for five minutes, I want to keep people on board. It keeps my act really fresh, because standup is really a conversation with the audience and I think it disarms them. I got a lot of voices in my head anyway – I might as well use them.

RL: So which is it, acting or standup?

JG: I love having a foot in each of those. With standup, you’ll eventually go crazy or be in rehab. You’re done with work at 11:30 at night and there’s free beer. It’s a pain in the ass on the road, too – there are all those cliches. With acting, there is an insane amount of rejection. It’s weird – you do so many different acting roles and you never know what’s going to be big. Like “Super Troopers,” I just did a day on that movie and it’s gigantic, but then I’ve been a lead in 10 other movies that have never been released. There’s different acting gigs, too. With “That ’70s Show,” working on a sitcom has a very formulaic approach to it as opposed to an indie film where you make up stuff as you go.

RL: I’m sure you get typecast as a “stupid white guy” a lot.

JG: I’m very grateful for all the work I do get. It’s weird; I play the nerd a lot – I guess I am kind of a nerd in some ways. I also play the dumb guy a lot, and I don’t think I’m that stupid. From the acting standpoint, it’s much more fun to play a guy who’s messed up from a completely normal person, so I love it. I know I compete with Brad Pitt in a lot of roles, and I know it’s going to change eventually.

RL: Most comics have something that upsets them fueling their act. What pisses Jim Gaffigan off?

JG: There is something to be said with presentation. I might look at a Hot Pocket commercial and be like, “How stupid do they think we are?” They’re just going to sit there and go, (sings) “Hot Pocket” and we’re going to be like, “Oh, that’s a good commercial, let’s go and eat that crap.” Obviously, it’s just a calzone or a Jamaican meat product, but they’ve just called it something else and used the worst description for the product. I feel like everything pisses me off, but I guess I’ve got it kind of good. I’m pissed off that Angelina Jolie keeps calling me. I was just at Sundance and this business is all about getting too much respect or none. I was there for a film and it was great, they give you free shit and everything, but I would say, like, three times a day people thought I was Philip Seymour Hoffman. Does that piss me off? Not really. You’ll look at a script, and I’m a character actor, and it’ll be like, “The guy who looks slightly retarded enters the room,” and that’s my character. Those things can piss you off or you can go, “Yeah, you know what, I am a doughy white guy.” I think that’s what sarcasm is for, deflecting some of that annoyance.

RL: With the new album and special, do you feel the spotlight is on you and there is pressure to become a big commercial success?

JG: To be completely honest, when I did my album with Comedy Central, the guy said, “I just want you to know that cursing sells.” I curse in everyday life, but when I’m on stage – sometimes if you say an F-bomb, it’ll save a mediocre joke, so I’m constantly trying to get rid of it. But there has been no pressure to do that. I have checked out reviews of my last CD on Web sites and people literally say “not enough cursing.” I think that’s kind of hysterical. If we were all 13 sitting in a garage, we’d want to hear curse words. It’s like, get the Dave Attell CD – who I think is a genius, by the way. There was no pressure, but I can’t get in Dave’s kind of shape so I’m not worried about that. There’s, like, a comedy nerd audience that has always kind of got me and those are the people I want to still think I’m funny. I’m not looking to be on the cover of People magazine – but I’ll probably be the most handsome guy in the world next year.