Going Gay (Comedy's Lesbian Takeover)

If you're a feminist, chances are, someone in your lifetime will criticize you for being a humorless bitch, and if you're a lesbian AND a feminist, this kind of criticism will probably increase to the point where you debate wearing a pin that says "I do not resent laughter."

So why are so many lesbians and feminist lesbians (I am going to try hard not to lump those two categories together in this post, but as someone who IS both, this may pose a challenge) turning to comedy? One would think this is a suicidal move--after all, a lack of comedic sensibility is a misogynist's favorite insult to a feminist, and certainly to an activist lesbian. And yet, to put it bluntly, lesbians rule comedy right now.

There was always Ellen, of course. She stands, a beacon of light, as a role model to any hopeful lesbian comic. But now, instead of being one and only, she's one of many: Wanda Sykes, Kate Clinton, Liz Feldman, Tig Notaro, Julie Goldman, Erin Foley, etc.

People are often confused by this. It's hard being a woman in comedy, it's hard being a woman trying to do feminist comedy, and it's even harder being a lesbian in comedy, whether it's feminist or otherwise. My feelings on this are on par with Sarah Silverman's feelings about being Jewish and a comedian. She says something to the effect of: 'Look at the people who are kind of the funniest cultures, they're the cultures of the people who have been the most oppressed, black people and Jews. Not that they're the only funny people, but culturally, it comes from the pain, you know?'

That's how I feel about being a lesbian, and it's even how I feel about being a feminist. I think that, like it or not, there is certainly a kind of homosexual culture, and there is definitely a sense of culture when you've got a whole bunch of feminists in a room. The point is, marginalization sucks, and there are really only a few ways you cope with it. Either you wax poetic academically, you spend hours crying, or you get busy cracking jokes. I pick option C.

Taming of the Shrewd

I know it's a feminist cliche to talk about romantic comedies because they're such easy targets. Women are subject to bland heterosexual mating rituals while knowingly (or miserably) navigating the perils of their glamorous publishing job. And let's face it, Hollywood hates career women. A brief glance at the latest rom-coms being plugged will tell you pretty much everything you need to know. In 2009's favorite crowd pleaser, The Proposal, Sandra Bullock's character is firmly made over from a fish-out-of-water, neurotic, socially retarded shrew (as all high-powered female executives are, of course) to a woman in a successful relationship, which, as Hollywood knows, is a lady's greatest success of all. And recently Leap Year follows that formula and transplants it to rural Ireland. (As someone who has spent some time in rural Ireland, I can tell you that elderly women are less keen to offer you motherly advice than you might expect from viewing this film.)

This is a five-minute summary of how a feminist might look at romantic comedies, but as a feminist comedian, the 'comedy' part of these movies interests me even more. What's supposed to be funny are the trials and tribulations of a couple falling in love--the snafus, awkward banter and sexual situations that audiences apparently eat up.

I'm actually more insulted by the so-called jokes than anything else, because the target audience for these films are women, which means that filmmakers presume a lot about what women find funny. And let me tell you, we just love when a lonely single woman sings karaoke and gets the words wrong, or wrecks her Jimmy Choo's in some strategically placed mud, or when a man's premature sexual advances land him in trouble with his new girlfriend.

There's a reason this stuff is mostly forgettable, and its not just the boring 'lessons' about gender relations provided by the ending. It's the fact that the 'comedy' part of romantic comedies is painfully unfunny. Because, as usual, the woman plays straight man to a loveable goofball and prances around in suits that appear to be made of Lycra, but she doesn't actually do much of anything to make us laugh. I like a deadpan delivery as much as the next cynic but this isn't deadpan; it's just the sultry pouting of an embarrassed actress waiting for her paycheck. Hollywood, if you're going to demean woman, can't you at least be funny about it?

Audience Participation

(Pictured are members of 'Choke Comedy')

Listen, I'm not here to knock improv. I think improvisational comedy is a great way to practice thinking on your feet as well as outside the box, and it's also a great team-building exercise for corporations looking to synergize employees' input.

But the issue that I take with improv is that its audience is often either clueless, abrasive, obnoxious, or in general just very, very, limited. I know you're thinking "Whose Line is it Anyway is my grandmother's favorite televison show, you asshole." I like Whose Line. But I'm not deluding myself into thinking that what I'm watching is an example of improv at its finest. What I'm watching is an example of actors who have great chemistry saying exactly what an audience of college students and the elderly wants them to hear. In other words, penis jokes, homo-eroticism, and cracks about Drew Carey's weight.

What about live improv? Well, that's my point exactly. When was the last time you saw an incredible improv show live? Probably once or twice in your life, and that's probably if you had the privilege of seeing Upright Citizens Brigade or Second City.

So is it that we all suck at improv? Probably not. I think the problem, as it so often is, is the audience. I'm in college. I've seen my fair share of improv shows. And as an audience member, I know that being asked to come up with a verb, or a noun, or a place, or a relationship on the spot feels almost as stressful as performing. There's a pressure to be just as funny as the performers, which, of course, you will not be. The inevitable happens: Someone shouts out 'SEX!" or 'PENIS!' or 'Gynecologist's Office!" or 'Gay male lovers!' and for the next ten minutes you watch the poor comedians try and struggle to come up with an original, quirky scene. And you laugh at the slightest hint of a joke simply because you feel bad for the performers, and because it's 12 AM on a Friday and there's a good chance you're wasted.

This brings me to my ultimate criticism of improv, and why I think it differs in a negative way from stand-up comedy. Improv is a phallic sport. No matter how badly the group is sucking, throw in a dick joke or a gay joke and you have the audience rolling around on the floor. Women are marginalized, as they are in most comedy, but the difference is that watching two faux-lesbians or hearing a vagina joke failing to go over as well as bawdy, masculine 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' grandstanding is worse than a female stand-up comedian having to work harder than her male counterparts.

We all know the audience controls the comedy in both settings, so why is it worse for women in improv? It's because in improv the audience gets to have a say. It's because frankly improv's standards are lower. A woman performing stand-up gets to say whatever the hell she wants, and the audience may find it funny in spite of their prejudices. But a woman performing improv as a member of a co-ed troupe is limited to what the audience hands her. And the audience is going to hand her a dick joke.

The truth is, improv is the poor man's stand up. How many famous comedians got their start in improv? Tons. How many continue to do improv today? Hmm. Whereas for stand-up comedy, the numbers are apt to make me much more optimistic. In conclusion, I suggest we comb audience members for the slightest hint of bigotry or stupidity and muzzle them for the duration of the improv show.

Target: Womenz

Sarah Haskins is a goddess. I know it's cheating to make what's supposed to be my first critical post a love letter to Haskins' Target: Women, but winners always cheat, or whatever the expression is.

Target Women's been getting some buzz lately, and for good reason. It's a smart, snarky and hilarious take on not only how women are marketed to in commercial media, but how women and men are portrayed in these commercials, written by and starring Sarah Haskins.

The great thing about Sarah Haskins is that she's just the right balance of mildly amused and seriously concerned, which is what makes the episodes so ingenious. If she were a bit too flippant about the whole thing her message would get lost in a sort of apathetic 'We're all screwed, who cares?' thing that's unfortunately been done by women (and men) I otherwise love. Comedy that takes a stab at social commentary should definitely be amused and amusing, but it needs a bit of bite if anyone's going to swallow the message. (You're welcome for the awkward extended metaphor.) Haskins brings the funny but she also brings the eye-roll. And she does it without making me want to hang myself. I kind of want to be her.

Just look at this magical send-up of Broadview Security's advertisements.

And I thought I was safe from WASPy guy I met at my cousin's party for five seconds.

I think I'm Pretty Funny

Hey Chelsea, it's Chelsea.

(That was just in case no one reads this.)

So basically, this is going to be a blog that responds to comedy (television, film, stand-up performances, books, articles) from a feminist perspective.

My issue with feminism's relationship to comedy can basically be summarized by the following generalization: Comedy is often very sexist, but sometimes in an effort to be more gender inclusive it becomes hideously unfunny. I'm really sick of watching Judd Apatow movies and Swiffer commercials, but I'm also sick of watching 'Undressing Vanessa', the painfully awful comedic romp that also takes a serious look at women's bodies and how they are portrayed in the media (as far as I know, this is fictional.)

On the bright side a lot of good things are happening right now. 30 Rock is the greatest thing that ever happened to television, people like Wanda Sykes and Margaret Cho are popular, we're in a Recession (this isn't good news for everyone, but it's a comedy gold mine) and Tina Fey was apparently offered $5 million for a book she hasn't even written yet.

So in an effort to do something completely self-involved, I've decided to compile my thoughts about feminism and comedy and the love-hate relationship I have with both. I may throw in some homo stuff, which I can't help because I also happen to be a raging homo. I may throw in some of my own comic theory or links to stuff I find cool or, more likely, heinous.

Likes:
-Food
-Stand Up
-Making fun of improv
-Television
-Books
-Making lists
-Straddling the line
-AfterEllen.com
-Parenthesis
-Irony.

Dislikes:
-Obviously, the patriarchy
-People who don't like food
-Bad taste in clothes
-Tacky or cheesy manifestos
-Too much optimism
-A limited sense of humor
-Glass ceilings.

Influences (Mainly just people I admire, so this list is a bit all-over-the-place):
-Sarah Silverman
-Tina Fey
-Ellen Degeneres
-Wanda Sykes
-Jim Gaffigan
-Tig Notaro
-Jonathan Franzen
-Virginia Woolf
-Chekhov
-Mitch Hedberg.

I don't know why that list ended with everyone who's deceased, that's kind of a downer. Oh well. R.I.P. and good night.