Say ole! to Capone’s Comedy Smash 6, which this week brings top Hispanic comedians to the Blaisdell Concert Hall.

Headlining the show will be Paul Rodriguez and Felipe Esparza, two comedians who have taken a long and winding road to comedic stardom. Sara Contreras, one of the original Latin divas in Showtime’s 2007 “Original Latin Divas of Comedy” special, rounds out the program.

RODRIGUEZ’S ROAD, in fact, started right here in Hawaii, thanks to local funnyman Andy Bumatai. After getting out of the military as a young man, Rodriguez came here to perform in a cable television comedy contest hosted by Bumatai.

“I really did the best,” he said, “and everybody booed when I got third.

“I was disappointed, so I hung around Hawaii for a couple of days — that’s all it took for me to be broke — so I went to see Andy Bumatai, and he was gracious enough to let me open for him at … the Ilikai. I worked there for about eight months, and after that I told Andy, ‘Thank you very much for your help, and now I’m going to go back to Los Angeles and be the Andy Bumatai of my people.’”

It would take a while. Rodriguez was unable to get regular gigs and went back to school, planning to become an attorney. But his persistent joking in class annoyed one of his professors so much that she suggested he try out at the The Comedy Store, one of Los Angeles’ top clubs. “I won amateur night and it was really an epiphany,” he said.

Rodriguez went on to land television and film roles, eventually getting signed to the title role in “a.k.a. Pablo.” The Norman Lear sitcom about a Hispanic comedian trying to break into the mainstream was short-lived, but it would lead to regular work for Rodriguez, with appearances on late-night talk shows, comedy club tours and more television and film roles, including writing, directing and acting in the endearing 1984 film “A Million to Juan.”

With nearly 40 years onstage, Rodriguez is now considered an elder statesman of Hispanic entertainers and an influential figure in the Hispanic community. It’s a role he takes seriously. Although he has supported Republican policies, he said he plans to get involved in a lawsuit challenging the Electoral College, pointing out that Hillary Clinton and Al Gore both won the popular vote.

He is also a strong advocate for getting Hispanic-oriented television shows broadcast, pointing out there are none currently, though there are now several featuring African-Americans and a few with Asian-Americans.

“It’s a waste of money for Latinos to have color television because there’s no color, there’s black-and-white,” he said.

Rodriguez still has fond memories of Hawaii: Aside from his friendship with Bumatai, he remembers going to Brothers Cazimero concerts and hearing Danny Kaleikini perform. He also recalls trying to surf, “but apparently, surfing and low-riding don’t go together.”

Don’t worry about his comedy being “too Hispanic” for local audiences, although back in the day he gained headlines for tossing tortillas to the audience. Rather than going from scripted joke to scripted joke, he has always been a comedian who “reads his audience” first and then adjusts accordingly. His earlier experience here gave him one tip: “Mexican-American jokes here are ‘Portagee’ jokes over there.”

ESPARZA ALSO took an unusual and somewhat tortuous trip into comedy. Growing up in a violence-prone area of Boyle Heights in Los Angeles, he got drawn into a gang, abused drugs and got into fights. After getting addicted to crack cocaine, he got sent to rehab, where a counselor asked him to write a list of what he wanted out of life. His No. 1 goal? To become a comedian, a seed planted much earlier by listening to a Bill Cosby record.

“After rehab I had my list of goals,” he said, “and I walked to a public library and I looked for the librarian there and asked her for books on comedy writing.”

Esparza would wind up studying books by Gene Perrett, a writer for Bob Hope, and the comedian Steve Allen. He also studied funny quotes from Toastmasters International publications.

Esparza started out trying to be a deadpan comedian, in the vein of Steven Wright — a far, far cry from his routine now. With his long hair, substantive physique and energetic delivery, he presents a dynamic personality onstage. He learned that from getting heckled at one of the rougher clubs in L.A. early in his career.

“I was bombing a lot,” he said. “I couldn’t be deadpan, so I started changing it up and coming up with stories to keep the crowd entertained.”

His big breakthrough was winning “Last Comic Standing” in 2010. His jokes on Hispanic culture made him the favorite: “It’s tough losing weight because everyone cooks with canola oil, vegetable oil, corn oil,” he said in his bit in the finals. “I’m Mexican. We cook with lard. My mom puts lard on everything — bacon, eggs, ham, chorizo. I had a heart attack when I was 12.”

Esparza’s latest project is a special on the All Things Comedy Network called “Translate This.” It’s grounded in his childhood experience crossing illegally to the United States with his family and having to translate conversations with doctors or teachers for his parents.

“There were times when I didn’t know what a word was, so I would just put on ‘o’ at the end, like white people do,” Esparza said. “Like one time, the doctor said ‘You have back spasms.’ I never heard of back spasms in English or Spanish, so I go, ‘Papi, you have backo spasmo.’ The doctor looked at me and said, ‘That’s pretty good, kiddo.’”

Esparza now has resident alien status, and his parents are naturalized citizens. Given today’s political climate, he said he’s glad to have left his youthful indiscretions behind.

“I’d be deported,” he said. “I gotta be a citizen to do crack.”