Down a narrow, dark staircase sits a dimly lit hostess stand that gives way to a sprawling, drop-ceiling basement. The room is flanked by a bar that runs the length of the back wall, neon light giving life to the perfectly aligned liquor bottles. Dark curtains run the length of the far wall as the staff ducks in and out, preparing for this evening's comedy crowd.
As our group huddled up with our tickets at the entrance, the five-foot-three (as he revealed in the show), spikey-haired comedian popped around the corner, looking a little thinner and younger than I imagined, in person. He maintains an almost cartoonish appearance, perhaps personifying what a comedian “should” look like with exaggerated features: especially big eyes and ears matched with a small frame.
As he ushered us in as the first guests, he greeted new faces and old friends while making sure we were all taken care of.
If you are familiar with Mickey Cucchiella’s past, you know that for the new owner of HammerJokes Comedy Club in Parkville, this is his big re-emergence into comedy and the public eye after taking a very public break.
If you are NOT familiar with Mickey Cucchiella’s past, he is a Baltimore-born stand-up comedian and radio personality best known for his years as a co-host on 98 Rock’s “Mickey, Amelia, & Spiegel” morning show, where he built a cult following as a raw, self-deprecating comic and storyteller with a thick Baltimore accent.
From Hammerjacks to HammerJokes
In his twenties and thirties, Mickey became a familiar face in Baltimore nightlife, working in and around legendary venues like Hammerjacks, where he hyped crowds, emceed bands, and refined his stage persona as an outrageous, fearless comic. Those years gave him a built-in local fanbase, since half the audience on any given night knew him from the neighborhood, the clubs, or the bar scene, which helped him grow as a performer.
Radio
Cucchiella broke into Baltimore radio and eventually became co-host of the “Mickey, Amelia & Spiegel” morning show on 98 Rock, where his unfiltered humor, arguments, and storytelling helped the show reach top local ratings and made him one of Baltimore’s most recognizable media personalities. After a long run on the station, he left the morning show in 2013, stating that he had been “battling pretty badly with depression” for at least a year, describing stretches where things improved and then got “sad” again.
Reinvention
In recent coverage, Cucchiella revealed that after leaving 98 Rock he continued to struggle with depression and tried different jobs to earn money, such as painting houses and selling cars. He has stated that he found himself in a “really bad place mentally” and finally made the decision to get into a psychiatric treatment program, something he credits with helping him rediscover himself and what he is good at, which is talking, telling stories, and making people laugh.
Enter “Mickey Talks,” the entertaining podcast he produces with another 98 Rock alumnus, Matt Davis, in 2024.
Flash forward to Thanksgiving week 2025, he’s back in the comedy club where he did his first stand-up routine ever at only 17 years old, except this time he is the owner.
On stage, Mickey talks about sneaking into the club and convincing the manager to let him do four minutes.
HammerJokes resides in the basement of The Bowman Restaurant in Parkville. Besides being a family-owned local mainstay since 1974, The Bowman used to be the home of two previous comedy clubs, including the original location of Magooby’s before they moved to Deereco Road in 2010, followed by Sully’s Comedy Cellar, which next operated as an intimate “basement” venue that showcased regional and touring comedians.
Walking into the refreshed comedy cellar, HammerJokes still gives off that aura of Baltimore comedy nostalgia with its drop-panel ceiling creating some intimacy for
what is otherwise a very large room.
The club advertises some modernizations: “HammerJokes is purpose-built for comedy—every seat is a good seat, the sound is crystal-clear, and the vibe is electric.” Overall, the ambiance beginning with the tight staircase down to the cellar was cool, and the backdrop with the HammerJokes logo added a little extra excitement and mystique as we took our seats at a big table and waited for the room to fill up.
At one point, Mickey made a remark about this feeling like an opportunity to bring real Baltimore underground comedy back, which I think perfectly captured the vibe of the evening. The crowd ranged in age, and I was surprised to see great representation from what I could guess were folks in their late 20s and early 30s.
The staff was very friendly and attentive and was quick to return with our orders of alcoholic beverages, sodas, and bar food. The club advertises a “two-item minimum,” perhaps for those who are not drinkers.
Before Mickey did his set, the show opened with the MC and two other comedians—Bam Jacobs and Walt Ostrowski, who did a very good job warming up the crowd for the main act. Both were unpolished, unfiltered, cringy, and represented everything funny about being from Baltimore.
By the time Mickey joined the stage to a warm welcome, he appeared, in the best way I can describe it, as someone who is happier and healthier. It didn’t take long for him to get the room in the same groove as him. His material, mostly self-deprecating rants, which he is known and loved for, didn’t steer clear of his past struggles with depression and mental health, which was a topic he seemed to dip in and out of throughout the evening. In fact it was these stories that drew the most laughs of the evening.
At one point in the middle of his escalating set, as his rants seemed to get more animated and louder at every turn, he facetiously, and perhaps hypothetically, asked, “Who in here would want to have sex with me?” This immediately drew some laughs, which were followed by roars when one slightly intoxicated woman stood up and volunteered to let him do [something so sexual that I probably shouldn’t repeat here]. It was the perfect reply for the evening.
As it turns out, the women was not a “plant” in the audience, just a big fan who got a little too excited. Mickey seemed to remember her and referred to her as “the old Jewish lady who was on a date with her cousin.” We can confirm it was her cousin, we cannot confirm if she was on a date with him or not.
I do not pretend to be an expert on comedy, but I do know what makes me laugh, and I’ve always enjoyed studying people who are experts at what they do. At HammerJokes, Mickey really seemed to get in the pocket, as they say in music, as he raced through story after story. It was really clear to me, and perhaps anyone else paying attention, that he was back doing what he loved and felt very at home doing it on that stage.
He spent a decent amount of time delving into jokes about his experiences getting treatment for his mental health and even stopped at one point to say how cathartic it felt to be up there talking about it.
He checked in with his brother periodically, who was working the room, saying, “We should be recording this, dammit, because that was funny and I’m not going to remember it.” He seemed as if he surprise himself.
After the show, I got to meet and shake hands with him, and I couldn’t resist asking him, “Was that whole set ad-libbed?” It was the best description I could think of. He seemed to appreciate me recognizing it and said something to the effect of, “I just can’t do it any other way.” I thought for a second about how dangerous and exhilarating that could be for him at the same time.
As dangerous as it was, the laughs showed up every time, and you could tell he was feeling the exhilaration in the moment.
Checkout the HammerJokes website for details on upcoming comedians and shows!
