He's no superhero, but he's one amazing Asian - comic, that is. Local boy Paul Ogata is blazing his way through the comedy scene these days - faster than a speeding punch line, more powerful than a hefty heckler, able to leap tall showrooms in a single bound - Well, maybe not that last one.

Ogata is small in stature, standing just 5'3", but his wit is grand. At 35, he's making a name for himself and leading the way for the new wave of Hawaii's up-and-coming young comics.

Ogata was recently named the Funniest Asian in America at the national Pan-Asian Comedy Competition that brought in 60 of the funniest Asians in America to compete for the title in Waikiki.

This funny Asian will be heading to Los Angeles next week and will appear June 15 on the Late Late Show with Craig Kilborn.

Then he heads to New York to film the first episode of Take Out Comedy, a new stand-up comedy show for World Asia TV.

He also plays the starring role in Gerard Elmore's short-film Amasian: The Amazin' Asian, a tale of an underappreciated superhero who has to save the world from the evil Waianae Man. Elmore and Ogata plan to take the short piece to upcoming film festivals on the West Coast.

Add to that his regular comedy gig with Andy Bumatai at the Palace Showroom in the Ohana Reef Towers every Friday and Saturday night and his job as morning on-air personality for 102.7 Da Bomb, and you've got a busy guy.

Ogata is just one of many young funnies who are blending the traditional ways of comic greats like Bumatai, Mel Cabang, Ed Kaahea, Rap Reiplinger and Frank DelLima with their own styles.

Several of these budding comics, including Cathy Tanaka, Shawn Filipe, the Hawaiian Guy from Molokai, Brian Lentz and Elroy Entendencia did stand-up bits at the world premier of Amasian: The Amazin' Asian recently at Dave & Busters.

Stand-up comedy, according to Bumatai, is no easy career choice.

"This is how hard it is," says Bumatai. "In employment in general, show business is the most difficult. In show business, comedy is the most difficult; and in comedy, stand-up in the most difficult.

"Why? Because you have to create a whole show by yourself with a microphone, no music, no props, no costumes, no nothing. You have to create theatre of the mind. It's a mirror on society; the comic says what everyone is thinking but is afraid to say. Stand-up, done right, does that."

Sneaky comedian trick #1

"The worst comment you could have as a comedian is, of course, that you weren't funny," says Ogata.

To gauge his audience appeal after a show, Ogata says he'll go stand by the exit to tell everyone goodbye and thanks for coming.

"You do that because you want to tell people you appreciate them coming but also so you can stroke your ego a little and have people tell you that you're funny.

"Sometimes you'll hear people walking up and they won't see you and they say out loud, 'Oh, that third guy wasn't very funny.'"

Whatever you do, don't say Hitler.

There's a time to be funny and a time to not be funny, says Ogata. "The audience is a cross-section of America. You try to juggle your material to please the broadest number of people in the best possible way."

There are some subjects that are always more touchy than others. Ogata says talking about race relations, drug abuse and religion can be hot buttons for certain audience members, and there's a right and a wrong way to deal with these subjects.

Sometimes, however, people will get upset no matter how innocent your joke.

"I got a death threat once from a Jewish lady," recalls Ogata. "I said the word 'Hitler' in my act. I didn't say he did good things or bad things, I just said the word. She cornered me after the show and said if she heard me say that word again, I wouldn't leave the building alive."

How did Ogata reply?

"I certainly didn't say, 'Hitler!'"

Getting your alphabets in a box.

Every time he gets up on stage, it's a whole new battle, says Ogata. Part of the rush is getting nervous.

What comes out of his mouth during his act could be described as "stream of consciousness."

"There are a lot of comedians who will do their act verbatim from A to Z," says Ogata. "I like to get the alphabets in a box, shake them up, and randomly pull them out. Whatever comes up next, comes up next. I like the uncertainty of that."

Rarely does Leo lead you astray.

Testing material before springing it on the general public is a method that many comics indulge in.

Ogata has his own personal laugh-o-meter in morning show radio co-host Kid Leo.

"I'm grateful for the radio because it allows me to kind of break stuff on the air first to see how it flies," says Ogata. "If Leo is laughing, it's a good barometer of whether or not it will work on stage.

"Sometimes if a joke doesn't work the first time you try it, don't give up on it right away. Maybe it's how you said it or maybe it was just the vibe of the audience that night."

Marriage is a gold mine of material.

Ogata married wife Kris two years ago and since then has realized the wealth of great comic material born by their union.

"I should have gotten married 10 years ago," laughs Ogata. "A lot of times my wife will come up with the ideas herself."

The two of them will be watching TV and Kris will point out all the stupid things on TV. "It's kind of like she's the dog owner and I'm the dog and she's saying 'Sic 'um!'"

Come on, Tell me a joke.

Even though he's always looking for a good bit, Ogata says as a comedian it's frustrating when people come up to him and say, "Tell me a joke!"

"I don't tell jokes," says Ogata. "I tell you stories."

Ogata strives to be the person who says exactly what you wish you could have said, and then you will be sitting in the audience or in your car thinking, "I wish I could have said that!"

With comedy, Ogata has realized it's difficult to surprise people with it. "People have to come to comedy. You can't spring it on them," he says. "I want the guy in the audience who's challenging me, saying, 'Come 'on, make me laugh!"

Everyone has bad days.

While most things can be made into something funny, there are also times when an experience is less than humorous to a comedian.

Ogata has had his share of unlaughable, outrageous situations, including the time he performed at a yakudoshi(a Japanese birthday party, usually for a man turning 42), and didn't see the birthday boy anywhere in sight.

Ogata asked where he was and a member of the audience responded, "He's in the cake."

"What's he going to do? Jump out and yell 'Happy birthday' to me?" joked Ogata over the mike.

"He passed away a couple weeks ago," another audience member whispered. "We cremated him and put him in the cake."

Then there was the time he got up on stage for his act at a comedy club and a woman in the front was looking at him and shaking her head side to side.

Ogata told her, "Before I start, can you not judge me?"

So he continued with his set, noticing a minute later that the woman was still shaking her head at him.

"I stopped the show again and said, "Look, is there so much hate in you, you have to keep judging me like that? Let me finish!"

The woman continued to shake her head. Ogata finally screamed, "You! You have so much hate in you!"

At which point the woman's husband stood up and yelled back, "She has Parkinson's!"

"I said, 'Thank you and good night' and left the stage." says Ogata. "There's nothing you can say at that point to make it OK."

Defeated, deflated and demoralized.

Sure, he's good now, but Ogata had to build his comedy career.

The Pearl City High grad got his first taste of the stage as a student at the University of Hawaii and entered a Doritos comedy competition at the campus center.

"I snuck away from the dorms and didn't tell anyone about it," says Ogata. "I didn't win - actually I tied for third and there were only four people - but I surprised myself that I was able to get up in front of all those people."

One of the judges in the competition owned the now-defunct Honolulu Comedy Club and invited Ogata to audition.

"I dug a deep hole," says Ogata of the experience. "I was defeated, deflated and demoralized. The ride home from the club with my friends was the quietest car ride ever - a creepy silence."

Ogata didn't try comedy again for another year.

"There's something about comedy that won't let go of you," he says. "I had to try it again."

So he started doing two minutes here and two minutes there, getting a job at the Honolulu Comedy Club answering phones just to be closer to the action.

"It was really college for me," says Ogata. "That was the education for what I really wanted to do. I didn't want to be an engineer or an accountant, I wanted to be a comedian."

When Andy Bumatai moved back to town about 10 years ago, Ogata began working with him.

"He was my idol when I was a kid," says Ogata. "I had all his albums and while other kids were out riding their bikes, I was playing his record over and over again, memorizing everything."

Over the years, Ogata has quit the comedy scene a couple times, discouraged. He even owned and operated his own comedy club, the Comedy Cow at the Ilikai.

Through the ups and downs, Ogata always came back to laughter. "I just wanted to do it," he says. "I didn't expect that I could make a living at it, but there's no better feeling than when you're up on stage and you're just killing and the crowd is with you. This is my poison."

Come laugh in Hawaii.

Right now, Ogata says, is a great time to be a comic in Hawaii with more places offering open mike nights as well as regular comedy acts like Ogata and Bumatai's in Waikiki; and Mel Cabang and Lanai and Augie at Brew Moon.

"It's really encouraging," says Ogata. "When I started there were only one or two places to go. I knew a guy who used to get up in the movie theatre and do his act to the theatre audience before the movie started."

Ogata jokes that while he's been doing comedy for 15 years, he's only really been good for one.

"I'd like to continue to do it for as long as a I can to as many people as I can," he says. "I wish there was a place to do comedy every night. Last year when I was in New York they had shows at 12:30 a.m. on a Thursday night that were sold out. As a comic in New York you can work four times a night just hopping from club to club."

The advice Ogata has for other young comics just starting out is to "just be yourself."

"A lot of them try to be someone else on stage," he says. "The more they are true to who they are and to what their voice is, the funnier they'll get. There's enough going on in your head when you're on stage without trying to remember who you're trying to be."