Cases and Current Events/Comics Talking Shop/Stand-Up Comedy

Michael Ian Black on His Persona and Goals

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I was a fan of Kids In The Hall, way back in the day, and have followed all the members’ careers with interest, so I was happy to read Michael Ian Black talking to Milwaukee Public Radio’s (wuwm.com) Rachel Owens and Matt Kemple about stand-up comedy (8/5/2017). Black says a lot about who he is onstage, and what he tries to do that I find different than those we’ve looked at before.

Persona

The authors characterize Black’s relationship with the audience as one of reflection. They say,

[I]n the end, the audience is there not to see a performer reveal themselves, but to see their own lives reflected back on themselves.

They further note that this is what allows Black to be open and honest. Talking about what he tries to do in his art, Black says,

You can’t appreciate the entirety of somebody, or you can’t appreciate the entirety of even the moment that they’re talking about without having a real kind of intimacy that you can’t achieve through a book, or a film, or a stand up performance. All any artist can do…is edit those experiences to the best of their ability in hope that some part of it translates to a kind of shared experience that we all have. Because ultimately…you’re looking for a connection, not a revelation about yourself.

So while the authors characterize him as being open and honest, in order to reflect the audience’s reality, Black himself says he’s not revealing his true self; in Kenneth Burke’s terms, he knows that he’s editing (selecting), so he’s really deflecting away from the truth, toward what the audience wants to see.

We should further note, with or without Black, that this “reflection of themselves” is probably not how they really are, but how they see themselves – their best face.  It’s flattery, and maybe sometimes, polite mockery.

Intent

Noting that the current political climate connects us all, the authors state that “Black feels it would be disingenuous to not address it in his stand-up. However, he doesn’t feel it’s his job to try to change minds.” Black says,

I think what I can do is make people feel like they’re not crazy. To get on a stage and say, ‘Hey this is all bananas. And if you feel like it’s bananas, you’re right. It’s bananas.,’ and try to do that with as much levity as I possibly can.

So what Black is trying to deflect the audience to is a shared connection through the agreement that the world is crazy right now.  That can be reassuring, as sometimes it feels like we’re being gaslit – is this really the new normal? No. No, it’s not.

Enunciative modalities

However, what I like best about Black’s statements are that if you realize that you’re deflecting, then you can steer the conversation and connections in a number of different ways; how the comic chooses to connect may not be wide open, but it is also not fixed to one path.  It’s what Michel Foucault might call an enunciative modality, a place from which to speak.

In the Archaeology of Knowledge, Foucault recognizes that humans make history, but that they do so under conditions not of their own making. They have opportunities to change the system, which he calls enunciative modalities – moments in which their speech and actions can change the discourse formation.  He describes enunciative modalities as “I”-slots, using the example of the old hockey game, where (a bit like foosball) each “player” can move in a preset, limited way.  While this setup is somewhat stifling for our ability to act (or agency), if the puck/ball comes to the player, they can make a difference in a few different ways. This is opposed to Jean Francois Lyotard’s notion of a différend, which presents an opportunity to change the rules in the current language game in a much more open fashion.

Summary

I’m impressed that, contrary to the authors’ views, Black understands that he’s deflecting to create a shared or common experience.  However, his intent at this stage is just to commiserate, and I think he could do more. Basically, while I recognize that Black doesn’t have free-reign to do whatever he wants, I hope that he could do more than just commiserate, and wish that he would choose to.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics in the News/Stand-Up Comedy

George Lopez on Being a Truthsayer

Posted on by nwilson

George Lopez gave an interview to NPR’s Stacey Vanek Smith for All Things Considered (8/5/2017). in which he talks about the limits on his comedy.  The extended quote is necessary for context.

Smith: So last month, you got some backlash after you posted on social media “The Trump administration is deporting Latinos to make street safer. You wanna make the street safer? Deport the police.” And, of course, Kathy Griffin got a lot of backlash for her photo of holding a severed head that looked like President Trump. It sort of seems like the boundaries of comedy are shifting right now, and I was wondering if there’s anything that’s off-limits to you.

Lopez: Well, yes. Of course. But, police brutality is not off-limits. You know? It can’t be. You know, holding up a severed head of the president, would I do that? No. Would anybody that worked with me allowed me to do that? No way.

Smith: Why not?

Lopez: Because, you know, that’s … I’ve always had a certain amount of respect for the office of the presidency, up until, and even a little bit now….

It’s that the sensitivity is so high. Unfortunately, people are losing their lives, unfortunately, in things that no one should die over.

And, listen, I’ve always been a supporter of law enforcement, but also, the police aren’t off-limits to me….

Listen, I’m positive that there are good cops and bad cops. Just like there’s good fat and bad fat. You know, in life, there’s a ying and a yang and a balance. And when you don’t have balance, you have comedy. And when you can’t take a joke, it is a sad indictment of our society right now that a comedian would be looked at as a truthsayer, and a politician is bending the truth.

When you don’t have balance, you have comedy

This last part is the most interesting. First off, that comedy is the result of a power imbalance.  It reads like he’s quoting someone, but I (and Google) haven’t heard it before. Nevertheless, I think he’s right.  Relief theory proponents might say that when you have a power imbalance, you have tension, and tension needs release.  But incongruity theorists would point to their theories, and of course superiority proponents would say that their theory is better, though we can note that this last theory only attempts to explain “punching down,” and making fun of.

Taking a joke

Next is the idea of taking a joke, which folklorist Moira Smith notes is a staple of American society.  We value people who can take it, and devalue people who can’t. Yet she also notes that we target people at the margins with our jokes and more frequently “test” their sense of humor as a way of creating and maintaining social boundaries. [I’m working on this one.] Nevertheless, when those in power act like they can’t take a joke, society usually judges them harshly.

Parrhesiastes

Finally, there’s the idea that comics are “truthsayers,” (parrhesiastes in ancient Greek and the work of Michel Foucault), not just wise fools speaking truth to power, but ones who frequently speak truth – who are allowed to speak truth.  I think this is becoming more and more the norm; not just that we’re allowing comics to speak truth, but that we’re looking to them to speak truth about partisan and social issues.

Free speech

He says later about the space of stand-up,

Lopez: I love it. Yes. It is the freest form of expression, even though people get upset. It is the only place that you can truly have free speech. Politically, you can’t. And you skirt around issues. And I think skirting around issues and being politically correct is what’s dividing the country, in a sense. You don’t want to get to where you’re using words that incite. But images and misperceptions, those should always be funny.

Lopez is right to make a distinction between people getting upset and the speech not being free; as Patton Oswalt has said the same thing: you’re free to speak, but not free from the consequences of your speech. However, comics still “skirt around issues,” or choose not to exercise their right to free speech.  Stand-up doesn’t strike me as all that different than other forms of speech in that regard.

Finally, he addresses the crux of the matter: that comics “should always be funny,” not inciting or offensive. Others I’ve written about disagree, saying that comics can have other intentions, and other messages, get serious, and then return to the humor. True, it’s better if they can do both at the same time, but many (like Caty Borum Chattoo) call that ability into question.

Summary

Lopez seems to view being a truthsayer as an obligation in our current political and social environment, in which power is out of balance, and those in power seem unable to take a joke. He knows that free speech isn’t easy, and that he’ll meet with opposition, and he’ll try to make it funny, yet he’s not backing away. He says in the interview:

I’m owning it and I don’t apologize.

And I applaud that.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics in the News/Stand-Up Comedy

Amber North is Woke and Doing Comedy

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In an interview for Access Atlanta, Najja Parker asks Amber North some questions about her monthly show, “Wake Up!” (8/3/2017). The material “tackles race, class and other controversial topics, with live sketches, stand-up and music.”

Learn-medy

North tries to keep it balanced, matching terrible things with praising of excellence.  She says the show is unique:

No one is doing this whatsoever. There are couple of shows that talk about current events, but no one is keeping the theme of awareness throughout. People are learning. Some even come up to me at the end to say “thank you.”

So “Wake Up!” can be placed into a category of comedy (including stand-up) that would educate – what Sarah Silverman once awkwardly dubbed “Learn-medy.”

I wonder about the content and tactics in the show – whether they fall to Caty Borum Chattoo’s recommendation of keeping the comedy separate from the message, or whether they mix the two, and how much.

Medicine

North notes that “laughter is the best medicine,” and so we can posit that she’s looking to use it as a cure. She began this metaphor early in the interview:

Right after Tamir Rice (the 12-year-old shot by a Cleveland police officer in 2014) was killed, I got sick of not saying anything and using social media as my platform. I thought, ‘I have a microphone and a stage to do the same thing. Let’s try it out.

So maybe laughter is the cure for her sickness, and we can hope that this spills over onto us, the audience.  To prepare people for the show, North advises: “come in with an open mind and prepare to leave enlightened.”

Allies

When asked how white comedians can be “woke,” North says,

Listen. If you’re being called out about an issue, just listen. Be a friend. Be a comrade, and don’t make the plight of the oppressed the punchline.

Sound advice.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics Talking Shop/Stand-Up Comedy

Jack Lewis on Political Comics

Posted on by nwilson

Jack Lewis wrote an article for The Diamondback about Hari Kondabolu (8/2/2017) that deserves some pixels here.

Political Comedians

Lewis makes a distinction between two types of political comedians:

He is a political comedian, but that label might do him a disservice. The term “political comedian” unfortunately often refers to white comedians who mistake controversy for activism. So when I call Kondabolu a political comedian, I don’t mean in the Bill Maher “I want to be able to say the N-word” sense, but in the Ta-Nehisi Coates New York Times Op-Ed on the N-word sense. He brings both a personal and an academic understanding of race to an art form that sorely needs it.

So the difference is between education and activism, versus trying to be humorous about controversies. We could call this activist and humorous, but that would repeat a distinction I’m trying hard to bridge. Lewis states later,

I hope political comedy can become about real activism. For too long, comedians have shrugged off the responsibility that comes with a microphone.

I couldn’t agree more; however, the common wisdom from folks like Caty Borum Chatoo is that the message kills the comedy.

Comic intent and punching down

Lewis also notes,

The culture of stand-up comedy has often rewarded jokes regardless of the damage they might do. The defense of so many racist jokes or accents has frequently been, “But it’s funny!” Kondabolu pushes back against this, pointing out earlier this year that “things can be funny and wrong. It’s not like those things are mutually exclusive. In fact, when things are racist and funny, they’re more dangerous. That’s how propaganda works.”

If we accept that the comic’s only respectable goal is the production of laughter, then the “But it’s funny!” line becomes a defense.  Further, it debunks, as did Colin Quinn, the notion that comedy only punches up – it can and frequently does punch down, and that can get a laugh.

Further, Lewis notes that there is,

[A] pervasive idea in comedy: It isn’t the job of joke-tellers to address social problems…. [However,] Comedians do not merely comment on culture, they help define it.

Here Lewis alludes to Kenneth Burke’s notion of selections of reality becoming deflections of reality – even when they’re merely trying to reflect reality.  What we see and enjoy shapes how we view the world – it is “equipment for living.”  Similarly,

Kondabolu knows it is important to be critical of the things people love because they most inform our culture.

Summary

So, in Lewis’ view, comics have power and responsibility not just to talk about controversies, but to actively try to intervene; to define culture in a productive fashion. I couldn’t agree more.  The problem is, how? And will we be allowed?

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics Talking Shop/Stand-Up Comedy

D.J. Mausner on Promoting More Female Comics

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In an interview for The Globe and Mail (8/1/2017), D.J. Mausner tells Giuseppe Valiante about how to helps out female comics.

Role models

She says that women don’t have enough role models, and they can’t look to men as,

[W]omen have different experiences and they share (jokes) in different ways.

This discrepancy has been widely noted [I’ll talk more about it in a later post]; if memory serves, women have been shown to appreciate a storytelling style more than a strict, script theory (setup, punchline) style.

But that sets the problem: less women are doing it because less women have done it. So this problem is a significant one, and it trickles down to others.

Expectations

Martha O’Neill founder of Toronto’s SheDot comedy festival says,

A man steps on stage and the audience waits to laugh. For women there is another layer. The audience says, ‘Prove to me you’re funny.’ People still come up to me after shows and say, ‘Normally I don’t find women funny but I think you’re hilarious’ – and I would argue it’s more women than men who say that.

Yes, expectations are key to creating the space in which comedy can happen, and that expectation is still not as easily granted to women as to men.  The problem is, there are less women doing it, and they’re just as likely to not be funny as the men are.  So when you watch a sea of male open-mic’ers flail about on-stage, and yet see a few good ones, you’re convinced men can be funny.  However, in that sea of men, if two women perform, and one is funny and one bombs, you question whether or not women are funny. Plus, they’re doing it differently than the men, so it’s not what we were expecting at all.

Equal booking and equal pay

Mausner talks about booking agents hiring more women, and men talking openly about pay to promote equality; however, that brings us back to the representation problem.  We had this question in our local comic’s Facebook forum.  We don’t have that many funny women in the scene, so people booking shows would quickly book them and then have nobody else to book for future shows.  Thus the question: Should you put a woman (or POC) on the show even if they’re not that funny, to promote diversity?  The risk is to degrade the quality of the show and lose audience. It’s not an easy answer.

Stereotyping and heckling

Valiante notes that woman and especially trans women have a harder time, as they are heckled more, and more hatefully.  Zack Freeman also mentions this problem in his article for the Chicago Tribune (8/3/2017). This is impossible to combat, save to have the hecklers removed, and that practice (or policy) would have a sort of chilling effect on the space of comedy – you mean this isn’t a space where we can talk about anything? *mock outrage*

What we can control are the jokes we tell, and this is a point I’ve made before in talking about marginalized personas: we have to be sure we’re empowering, not stereotyping. As Mausner says,

“I’m not saying I believe in censorship and people not being allowed to tell certain jokes,” she said. “But I think your responsibility when you say those jokes is to know how they are going to affect the audience.”

Society, she said, is already homophobic, racist and transphobic.

“So if you can make jokes about anything, why are you touching on tired stereotypes? By making jokes in that way you are just another drop in the bucket. It’s boring.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics Talking Shop/Stand-Up Comedy

Sam Adams on Political Comedy and Making People Laugh

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In an interview for the Littleton Independent (7/31/2017), Tom Skelley ask Sam Adams a couple of questions of relevance here: one on political comedy, and one on “the toughest part of the job.”

Political Comedy

Skelley asks,

What’s your take on doing political comedy these days?

It’s amazing how one election has changed everything.

I think about what makes people laugh, like, why are you going to a comedy club? Me, I don’t want a 15-minute speech about politics. You can’t please everybody, but you have to realize: “are people coming to get jokes about it or to get away from it?”

I want people to feel comfortable. I never have been a political comedian, so why start now? I still have my political views, I just don’t bring them to work.

Here we see a fairly common view: not wanting to get into it. The reason given is that “that’s not what the people want;” however, Caty Borum Chattoo and Young would have something to say about that: Young said that some people seek out such comedy, and do so because they want political information as well as humor.

I can empathize with never having been a political comedian, as I’m not.  The reason, for me is I haven’t yet figured out how to do it well – and it’s a bit daunting to try.  Also, I recognize that there’s a difference in the audience when you’re a headliner versus just another person on the bill (or worse yet, an open mic’er!).  If they came to see you and your brand of humor, great; if not, maybe steering clear isn’t a horrible idea.

However, Adams talks about “what makes people laugh,” thus characterizing the audience as objects he’s acting upon, and this carries on into the final question of the interview.

Tough job

What’s the toughest part of the job?

For me it’s about coming up with and sharpening my material so that it isn’t just making people laugh, it’s making them laugh hard. I’ll jab you like Muhammad Ali, but I want my punchline to knock you out like Mike Tyson.

Another thing is when people know you’re a comedian, they think you’re just “on” all the time. I always say “I am not funny in real life.”

But for some reason, when the lights go on, and the crowd is there, the fear of not being funny just carries me through.

The boxing metaphor is telling – it’s implicit in the punchline and jabline concepts generally, but Adams goes right after it.  This metaphor, however, runs into problems when used in conjunction with the “making laugh” phrase in that the boxing metaphor might imply an equal opponent, and exchange of blows, when we know that the ideal for most stand-ups is to be doing bag-work; bags (and audiences) shouldn’t punch back.

I can relate to Adam’s second point: Much like this blog, Adams isn’t funny in real life. However, also interesting to me is this “fear of not being funny,” that drives him onstage. He feels a pressure not just to act funny or to tell funny jokes and make them laugh, but to be funny, to embody funniness. And the idea of fear on top of it… it’s scary to me to wonder what we are willing to do in the name of being funny.

It’s just strange to me that, in a profession you choose, your performance is driven by a fear of not being something, instead of a happiness and confidence in being the thing.  Maybe it’s just me.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics Talking Shop/Stand-Up Comedy

Jack Bernhardt on the Benefits of Stand-Up and Jokes Versus Threats

Posted on by nwilson

In The Guardian, comedy writer Jack Bernhardt writes a nice little column on “Why everyone should try standup comedy once” (7/31/2017). He says,

I am proposing compulsory standup lessons for every single person in the country – so that we can all think more like comedians and save our society.

At the very least, “people would learn the difference between a joke and a threat.”  However, before he gets there, he notes some other benefits that would accrue, including empowerment, and self-reflection.  I’d like to examine these benefits in a bit more detail.

Empowerment?

Bernhardt writes that doing stand-up comedy can be empowering.

If everyone was made to have a go at standup comedy … they would feel like their words mattered, if only for a moment. They deserve to have that confidence of a mediocre male politician flow through them, even if only once.

He states that stand-up comics have an “assumed arrogance,”

[A] standup is telling the audience that their point of view deserves your undivided attention for at least five minutes – their jokes, their observations about Donald Trump’s hair, and nothing else.

He talks about the power that comics wield, including to maintain the audience’s attention, and notes that he “once span around in a circle on stage for 40 seconds for a joke.” While it sounds powerful, I think 40 seconds might have been the limit of that gag.  Just because he didn’t get booed and people didn’t walk out, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t or they couldn’t.

Later in the article he talks about jokes bombing, wherein he admits as much:

[M]y jokes about squishy avocados from Waitrose are going to go down great at a corporate event for M&S, but they’d bomb in a working-class suburb of Detroit because no one would be able to recognise it, and even if they did, it wouldn’t be relevant. Moreover, if the audience is randomly selected and diverse, jokes that rely on sexist or racist tropes would bomb. It’s the same reason Roy Chubby Brown won’t ever do a show in Brick Lane, or why the men tweeting tedious jokes about Jodie Whittaker becoming the new Doctor Who will never, ever have sex with a woman, ever.

So he knows the comic does not wield unlimited power. We could also question how empowering it would be for those with severe stage-fright.  It takes me so long to get comfortable with a bit in front of an audience, I question the value of having someone get up in front of an audience just once.  To truly be empowered, they have to do it enough to do it well–and most comics argue that takes years.  YEARS!

Further, we could dicker about how much power and leeway is granted to marginalized comics versus white males, but I think we see the point: the idea of unobstructed power a comedian wields, like wise fools speaking truth to power, is easily debunked. However, there are other benefits that may accrue, for instance, in putting together a set, we might self-reflect, and in that process we may discover things.

Self-reflection versus self-expression

In keeping with his notions of power, Bernhardt notes that,

Comedy is as much about making a connection with an audience as it is about self-expression.

Given what he said above, of course he would say this. In Bernhardt’s view, the comedian wields all the power; they don’t have an equal relationship with the audience as they have power over them.

He talks about comics having different angles on topics because they are different people, and “Standup is intensely personal.” He says you have to find out what your “take on the world is,” before you can connect with an audience.

Not enough people stop and think about what their take on the world is. We just assume we’re all unremarkable – or worse, that we’re all the same. Identifying what makes us unique – not in a bad HSBC advert at an airport kind of way, but actually analysing who you are, and what our biases, privileges and limitations are, makes understanding and empathising with other people easier.

So he admits – here and above – that there is some connection to the audience, and it’s in this section that he gets into the quote above about jokes bombing – an immediate contradiction to comedy being about power and self-expression.

He makes a good point about knowing oneself as key to understanding others.  That’s why in every basic Communication textbook, chapter two is “The Self,” and chapter three is “The Other.” But are we really learning about ourselves, or ourselves in relation to the world?

The message he doesn’t say, but seems to mean is that comics have to conform to who the audience thinks they are, and tell those jokes in their range that are appropriate to the audience.  That’s not self-expression, that’s reading an audience, and while it may take some self-reflection, and as I’ve pointed out before, a lot of will power to stay true to yourself and not become something you don’t want to be in chasing the laughs, it still might not be as empowering as we’d like. Still, there’s his last benefit to stand-up, that we can learn the difference between jokes and threats.

Jokes versus threats

Bernhardt writes,

[T]he most compelling [reason everybody should do stand-up] is simple: a lesson in standup would let everyone know what a joke is and isn’t. Over the past few months, it has become increasingly hard in this country to tell…. After each scandal, each gaffe, someone inevitably offers up the defence that it was “just a joke”.

The problem is that more often than not it wasn’t originally presented as one – it’s a veiled threat that is retroactively bestowed with the status of a joke when someone challenges it. Its intent wasn’t to amuse or to satirise, but to intimidate and ultimately silence. Maybe, just maybe, if we’re all forced to craft our own comedy, we’ll be able to spot the difference between a joke and a threat masquerading as a joke.

So here are the two main takeaways from the above:

  1. It can’t just be labeled a joke after the fact, it must be “presented as one,” perhaps including a discernible setup and punchline (from a later example).
  2. It has to have the intent of amusement or satire, not intimidation and silencing.

However, as I’ve tried to show in this blog, there is a spectrum of clarity when it comes to signaling a joke.  Further, not all jokes have setups and punchlines.  Sometimes we merely have to infer from what we know of the speaker, that, “of course this person is joking.” Because inference (supplementation of the information provided with what we think we know) is required, we have the possibility of making something a joke, whether or not it was intended as one. And that is a powerful tool to use against those who make statements we don’t like.

Also, intentionality is a funny thing, especially when you try to set amusement and satire in opposition to intimidation and silencing.  While it is generally recognized that satire must be amusing to avoid being simple ridicule, there are what Max Eastman has called “degrees of biting,” with “satire proper” being on the “hot end.” But perhaps it begs the question of when and where we draw the lines–How deep did it cut? Funny to whom?

Also, satire always has as it’s intent ridicule and shaming, so how is that not “intimidation?” Satire is a joke that also has an implicit threat: Reform or else.  Or else you’ll be ridiculed further.  Or else you’ll be shunned.  Or else further action will be taken.

Summary

Here’s Bernhardt’s conclusion:

Yes, it may be arduous…. But for the good of society, we have to try to think more like comedians–to spot those bullying threats, to empathise with our fellow man, to give confidence to those who have none.

Now here’s mine: Yes, there’s a lot of good to be had by trying stand-up–from really trying it, not just being the drunk heckler who, when invited on stage, resorts to street jokes, and cheerleading, when not blatantly stealing the bits of others.

All public speech can be empowering, if you can put in the time it takes to get to the point where you’re comfortable, and my experience is that in stand-up it takes longer to get to that point.  And yes, in trying to figure out a persona that works for us onstage, we have to get in the heads of the audience and empathize.

However, I think Bernhardt’s got it a bit back-to-front.  It’s not that stand-up will teach us the differences between humor and bullying threats–I’m not certain there is one–but that developing a sense of humor, a sense of comedy, a tendency to make something humorous will teach us how to dispel the veiled threat; to laugh at the bully.  To turn our ridicule back on those who would threaten us and enlist the empathy of those who recognize what’s going on.  Yes, it’s difficult, and yes, it’s dangerous. But it might just be our only hope.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics Talking Shop/Stand-Up Comedy

Aditi Mittal on Her Goals

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Aushree Majumdar interviewed Aditi Mittal for The Indian express.com (7/30/2017), and along the way expressed some things that we should talk about here.

Double standards

In the article, Majumdar talks about the double standard for female comics, and yet I find Majumdar’s treatment of Mittal a bit uneven.  On the one hand, it’s high praise:

Stand-up is storytelling live, and on stage, Mittal is funny, charming, energetic and bold.

The other hand is what we would call “left-handed:”

She jumps from topic to topic, and is one of the few women to display a natural ability for physical comedy. Not all her jokes have a punchline — Mittal often uses her face to make a comical expression, signalling the end of a joke.

One of the few women who have the ability for physical comedy? Lucille Ball, Melissa McCarthy, Rebel Wilson, we could go on and on.  There’s just a smaller pool of women to draw from, but that’s true of every type of comedy. That aside, she does seem to believe that Mittal is doing some good things.

Rubber swords

Early on, Majumdar uses a metaphor from humorist Mary Hirsch, that “[H]umour is a rubber sword — it allows you to make a point without drawing blood.”  This is only true if the humor has no efficacy, no “bite” as it were, and yet, that’s clearly not what she believes.  She says,

A funny woman is a dangerous thing — more dangerous than a woman who speaks her mind — because laughing with her somehow makes one complicit in the wrongs she’s taking a jab at.

True, we can laugh with Mittal her own self-deprecation (which is basically laughing at her) and thereby be complicit in and enforce the system. However, the laughing with/laughing at possibilities are more complicated than that; we could also laugh with her, at the system, without internalizing it. I think the point here is that the laughter does have some efficacy.   But that depends on what Mittal is trying to do.

Mittal’s goals

“When I started doing comedy, I had elevated ideas about what it was all about — truth, and that comics must not misuse their power, be cruel and hurt those who are disenfranchised,” says Mittal, putting on a quasi-British accent for effect. She shakes her head and says, “But I see it happening in comedy all the time. So, I wanted to talk about things that are disturbing to me.”

Like Colin Quinn and Ann Nguyen, Mittal sees punching down as very much a possibility. However, she’s trying to do something positive. Majumdar notes,

The take-home [for Mittal’s humor] is almost always the subtext: in a man’s world, if a woman must work twice as hard for everything, the only way she can survive is by laughing twice as [loud].

This seems again a slide backward – talking about the things that disturb you could be punching up and speaking truth to power. Instead, Majumdar seems to make it just about a coping mechanism. For her part, Mittal seems to want to do more:

I’m not averse to criticism. I want to entertain people, but comedy has represented too many wonderful things to me for the criticism to constantly matter. I don’t care so much about having the last laugh, you know? I just want to start a conversation.

The gist here is that comedy isn’t just about poking fun, it’s about instigating conversations.  Then there’s how Mittal goes about that task.

Mittal’s methods

Majumdar notes, “Sometimes, Mittal uses comedy to highlight sombre issues as well.” She describes a set about bra shopping, then states,

Towards the end, she talks about breast cancer awareness — the transition is well-executed and effortless, and the original joke remains undiluted by the serious turn the conversation has taken.

This is a direct application of Caty Borum Chattoo’s advice on how to use humor to enact social change: she let the humor be the humor, then tied it to a social message.  However, I still wonder if we can’t do both.  Mittal’s sights are certainly set higher.

Somebody recently asked me why I’m talking about ‘bold’ things. Comedy is a potent weapon, so shouldn’t we be using it to talk about potent things as well?

So much for rubber swords – Mittal’s is a sharp, potent weapon.

Off-limit topics

When asked if there is any subject that is off limits for comics, Mittal responds, “I don’t think so.” Majumdar then asks about rape jokes, noting that “they are a known taboo in comedy.” Mittal responds,

You have to examine a joke in the context that it is cracked, because 90 per cent of the joke is context. When you talk about people who talk about what women should wear in order to avoid rape, or somebody saying that chowmein is an aphrodisiac, then you’re punching up. At the end of the day, it is still a rape joke, but who is the target now?

What Mittal alludes to here is again what we’ve called the difference between victims and butts, laughing with and laughing at.  When laughing at people who critique a woman’s clothing, making them the butts, that’s punching up.  However, people who think chowmein is an aphrodisiac, that could go many ways – or maybe that’s a local, specific issue, and I’m just unaware of her context. In any case, she disputes an easy assumption that all rape jokes blame the victims.

Summary

The more interviews I read with Aditi Mittal, the more impressed I am with her. She seems to have a nuanced understanding of humor, and very activist goals.  With the latter, most models predict her comedy career to sputter and fail – or be pushed into a niche, like Margaret Cho [for the most part; we can talk about it].  However, instead she’s thriving, overcoming the double standard, and wielding a tangible sword.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics Talking Shop/Stand-Up Comedy

Sara Schaefer on Stand-up in the Age of Trump

Posted on by nwilson

Sara Schaefer wrote a poignant article for The Herald (7/29/2017) about telling Trump jokes in the current era.

Burnt out vs. ready for more

She notes that some people, even liberals, are just tired of hearing about him, some are just tired of all the yelling, but others want her to go after him.

It’s tempting to give in to these people – because they will respond very enthusiastically to anything I say about him. But I have to be careful, because I feel like if I pander to this faction too much, I’m at risk of falling into virtue-signalling in exchange for “clapter.” Clapter is when an audience claps for a plainly-made point, instead of laughing at a well-crafted joke. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m all for a strategic clapter moment. But this isn’t a Ted Talk. It’s a comedy show. Preach responsibly.

This is a slight deviation to the definition of clapter, which we previously defined as agreement, rather than humor. This would have it that they clap despite the form, the the point were less plainly-made, more couched in a well-crafted joke, the claps might signal humor support [I’ll get to this directly].

Nevertheless, the point is well made: comics on the left have a decision to make.  On the one hand, they can avoid the issue and just try to be innocuously funny; on the other, they can please part of the audience and potentially alienate the rest.  This latter route has many dangers.

The dangers

Social media

Social media has also ignited a tidal wave of stupidity never before seen in the United States. Intentional misunderstandings and bad-faith interpretations of art have led to all-out campaigns to shut down comedians’ entire careers. So nevermind the sensitivity of individual buttholes in my audience, I’m now worried if I’ll become the target of a harassment campaign by the alt-right. Will they come to my show? Will they heckle? Will they disrupt?

Yes, we’ve noted some of the effects here, like Kathy Griffin’s photo and other bad-faith interpretations of art. I side with those who note that despite their jibes, these facists and neo-nazis are some of the most sensitive snowflakes out there.  Nevertheless, their sensitivity bleeds over onto others.

Chilling effect

And it’s not just the comedians that feel this, it’s the audience too. When I open my show with a joke about Trump, you can tell that everyone in the room feels like a line is being drawn. They’re worried: “What if the comedian forces me to publicly identify which side I’m on?” Stand-up comedy, by nature, is awkward enough without having to worry about sparking a civil war. Of course, these things are subtle – and almost always amount to nothing more than tiny ripples in the atmosphere. But they’re always there, humming in the background.

Yes, people came to a comedy show to get away from their lives, and to experience pleasure in the presence of others.  When they’re asked to take sides in a political debate, that can decrease their pleasure. Such an effect has been called “chilling,” it makes everyone more self-aware and therefore careful, with broad consequences.

Her models

Schaefer tells us that the nation is tense in the Trump era: it’s “A nationwide epidemic of tight buttholes,” and her goal, therefore, is to,

[M]asterfully manipulate the buttholes of my audience. OK, that sounds really bad. (Or really good, depending on what you’re into.) What I’m trying to say is that I’ve found ways to release the tension with my audience, gradually build their trust, and then surprise them along the way. I’m interested in finding common ground, and I find that most of my audiences appreciate this.

So here we see a number of models for humor: relief/tension release and surprise (incongruity) – both after a sufficient buildup of trust. She also talks about humor “resonating” with the audience, which is more of a model of a loving relationship.

Caveats

Schaefer also realizes you can’t please everyone:

Of course, there is always that one guy who sits within plain view and refuses to laugh the entire show. Arms crossed, he sulks, openly hating me and every inch of my being. I try not to look at him, but it’s hard to ignore when one person is doing their damnedest to suck the oxygen out of the room solely using his rectum. I used to hate this guy. I would be in my head, screaming: “Why are you here? Did you not do one second of research? You could have easily figured out that you hated me via a simple Google search! Just leave! I Don’t care!”

Eventually, I came to accept the presence of this breed of man at my shows. He can try to Trump my comedy (pun intended), but I will not be deterred, and maybe one day I’ll figure out a way to loosen even his butthole. One can only hope.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?

Cases and Current Events/Comics Talking Shop/Stand-Up Comedy

Ann Nguyen on Punching Down

Posted on by nwilson

Blame Ann Nguyen of Elle.com (7/24/2017) for introducing me to Caty Borum Chattoo’s The Laughter Effect. In her article, she says a few things about this new(-sh), progressive stand-up.

Punching up?

Nguyen recognizes that comedy is dangerous.  She’s not one of those that Colin Quinn mocks in The New York Story,

[C]omedy never punches down, it only punches up. I read that from fifty people that never did comedy, they all said… what? What?

I’ve sort of put Chattoo – who Nguyen interviewed for this article – into this boat, with her discussion of stand-up’s “less-told” historical roots in African-American and Jewish-American humor, which was used as both a way to challenge power dynamics – to punch up – and to cope with their circumstances. Chattoo says,

Comedy serves as a way for oppressed groups to make it through their existence. Comedy works as a coping mechanism, a resilient strategy.

Rather than just telling their stories, which can dwell on complex and dark social issues, comedy can raise those issues and despite them, evoke feelings of optimism and joy.

Counters

While this may have been the way that it worked, others might argue that this comedy was an ineffectual distraction – humor didn’t free the slaves or protect the Jewish people from oppression. Further, it was just one type of humor, and some of the others weren’t so nice. Nguyen notes,

Anjelah Johnson

Historically, stand-up has always pushed the boundaries of good taste, making the medium susceptible to offensive jokes that can reinforce power dynamics and perpetuate oppressive ideas. Because nothing is off-limits, the utilization of bigoted racial tropes, misogyny, and inaccurate depictions of minorities runs rampant. See Anjelah Johnson’s stereotypic portrayal of Asian women who work in nail salons for just one famed example.

So Nguyen recognizes that perhaps historically stand-up has always pushed boundaries, but not always in a good and progressive way.  However, rather than focus on the past, let’s look at the present.

Currently

When using humor as activism, Chattoo notes,

There is a high level of sophistication that goes into making truly funny jokes that also bring light to activism. The jokes are only funny when they are poking fun of the power dynamics, not the poor people themselves.

Yes, there is a level of sophistication required, and yes, if we are to be activist, we should try to punch up; but jokes that punch down are not funny? Funny to whom? If people didn’t laugh at Anjelah Johnson’s jokes, she would stop doing them or risk losing gigs.

Changing audiences

To be fair, if we believe Chattoo’s sources, audience expectations are changing.  They seek out humor containing messages, and they look for those messages.

Caty Borum Chattoo

Audiences who seek out smart, civically-focused comedy and entertainment may do so for more than one reason—to be entertained and to make sense of serious information…. And when audiences seek and use entertainment with active “truth-seeking motivations,” they process the civic information in such a way that sparks “reflective thoughts…issue interest, and information seeking.” (Chattoo citing Young)

Perhaps now it is more necessary to punch up, rather than down, given what these active audiences want.  Perhaps now, as Nguyen says, “to bring attention to social issues and care for the community through comedy means that there is no room for jokes that make fun of the powerless.” While perhaps not unique to the current moment, this effect seems to have increased in recent years.  And comedians are responding.

Examples

Nguyen notes the sharing and coping functions of comedy in Margaret Cho talking about her miscarriage and in the phenomenon of Black Twitter. She also notes it in the stand-up of Phoebe Robinson, who says,

Phoebe Robinson

The world that we live in does not like women, does not like women of color, and does not like queer women…. I think every comedian at heart is saying, “I have all these things that I want to say, and I want to connect with people, but I’m not quite sure how to do that in real life.”  So I do it through comedy. Then people will hear me and it will make sense to them.

Nguyen also notes Robinson’s progressive attempts to push boundaries, to create new types of comedy and set different goals.

I think the best thing for me was that I freed myself from the rules and parameters on how you can do [comedy].

Nguyen’s take on this?

Instead, … she’s used humor to inform, resist, or comment on the oppression that shapes her experiences…. [These women of color] reject the paths that typically white and typically male comedians have charted. Instead, the gags and punch lines shared by these women of color have contributed to a comedy that cares for and recognizes their authentic selves.

Summary

Comedy doesn’t always punch up, then or now.  However, if stand-ups wish to be activists (and if audiences will let us be), perhaps we should try to do better. This involves not just punching up, but changing the way we conceptualiize stand-up itself. I’m in support, and appreciate Nguyen’s more nuanced view of the issue. We need more comics like Robinson, and I hope she finds an audience.

Questions? Comments? Thoughts? Additions?