Tag: comedy

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Arts

Le roman de monsieur de Molière at the Théâtre du Nouveau Monde: A review

Le Roman de Monsieur Molière au Théâtre du Nouveau Monde - Photo/Yves RENAUD

Between modernism and traditionalism: the constant debate between Corneille and Molière

The theatre adaptation of Mikhaïl Boulgakov’s novel Le roman de monsieur de Molière by the Théâtre du Nouveau Monde comments on the playwright’s chaotic life, and paints a vivid picture of the anxieties of devoting one’s life to being an artist. 

The audience did not need to be an aficionado of Molière to understand the intricacies of the play. 

The newly-restored Théâtre du Nouveau Monde, following the fire that erupted in the building earlier this year, seated 800 people and was nearly full. Most of the audience seated in the orchestra seemed of retired age, while younger people sat in the balcony.  

Though Molière’s life has been profusely copied and reimagined, this performance is contrasted by the unique proximity between the author and Molière. 

The 20th-century Ukrainian author Mikhaïl Boulgakov, much like Molière, was an artist unrecognized for his genius. They were both censured and silenced for their prose, receiving recognition after their deaths. 

Boulgakov plays on this theme in his novel, as is also present throughout the play, standing on the sidelines observing his written work unravel in front of him. Boulgakov’s and Molière’s characters intertwine and untwine themselves to unite and individualize their realities. 

For instance, Boulgakov frequently uses the first-person singular when narrating the play, as if he was himself Molière. While the story unfolds, Boulgakov never leaves the stage: he stays still, as a spectator. 

The audience barely notices him, as his movements are often immobilized by his role as narrator. He uses asides when he notes something specific that cannot be translated into action. 

The two-hour play, without intermission, highlights the continual chaos that surrounded Molière’s life as he was exposed to the pitfalls of wanting to resemble the great Corneille in tragedy, while never receiving the appraisal he thought he merited. 

The show played between themes of modernity and tradition, the former being reflected by Molière and the latter by Corneille. Their rivalry occupied most scenes, and made for a constant battle for mastering words that were both dramatic and entertaining. They played on words taken from their works while inlaying humorous formations as a form of satire. 

Jean de La Fontaine, the 17th-century French poet, was represented as a medium between the two. His character spoke his lines comically, referring to his previous works quite humourisly.

Boulgakov narrated Molière’s life as he acted on stage. This gave the audience a deeper understanding of his inner thoughts. There were short representations taken from his other plays, namely L’écoles des femmes, L’Avare and Tartuffe. 

Molière and his company L’Illustre Thêatre would often play out scenes that foreshadowed the well-known plays that would then be created. For example, when Molière was sick, and his wife Armande responded that no doctor would come to see him because of his work, the audience understood that Le médecin malgré lui had been written. 

The audience could understand the chronology of the story and Molière’s rising fame through costume changes. The dresses of the comedians became fancier and more intricate, and the vest Molière wore went from simple black to polished silver — a symbol of his rising social standing as a comedian who was being acknowledged. 

The first scene mirrors the last, as a bath is used for Molière’s birth and death. 
The show will go on tour across the province beginning Jan. 18.

Categories
Opinions

Netflix and Chappelle can’t play harmless

Whether they like it or not, media has always been influential

In 2021, it feels strange to still see debate around the influence the media has on real world events. I think of the 1994 movie Natural Born Killers, which was suspected to have inspired a slew of copycat crimes. I think of Stephen King’s 1977 novel Rage, which he allowed to fall out of print after incidents resembling those in the plot occurred after publication. And as a journalism student, of course I think of the industry’s mistakes. How perpetrators of mass violence have been sensationalized, then idolized and imitated. Or what about all the harm the media has caused Indigenous peoples, while ignoring the epidemic of missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls, and Two-Spirits, Even if a case is covered, the media usually perpetuates racist stereotypes through their coverage.

If you have any doubts about how powerful media can be, might I remind you about how misinformation helped elect Donald Trump in 2016, then caused a domestic terrorist attack at the U.S. Capitol? Or how about how misinformation about COVID-19 has led to confusion and resistance to public health measures? And, combined with centuries-long racist media, led to a spike in hate crimes against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders.

That’s why Netflix Co-CEO and Chief Content Officer Ted Sarandos’s recent comments about veteran comedian Dave Chappelle’s controversial new Netflix special The Closer are so ridiculous.

Saraondo said, “With The Closer, we understand that the concern is not about offensive-to-some content but titles which could increase real world harm (such as further marginalizing already marginalized groups, hate, violence etc.) Last year, we heard similar concerns about 365 Days and violence against women. While some employees disagree, we have a strong belief that content on screen doesn’t directly translate to real-world harm. The strongest evidence to support this is that violence on screens has grown hugely over the last thirty years, especially with first party shooter games, and yet violent crime has fallen significantly in many countries. Adults can watch violence, assault and abuse — or enjoy shocking stand-up comedy — without it causing them to harm others.”

Chappelle’s The Closer spends a lot of time (more than you’d think for a 48-year-old straight man) talking about the LGBTQ+ community. Chapelle’s last special Sticks & Stones was similarly controversial, with jokes (or “jokes,” depending on your perspective) about the LGBTQ+ community, abuse allegations against certain celebrities, and his defence of admitted (but unprosecuted) sex offender and comedian Louis C.K.

Chappelle is undoubtedly influential. He’s an Emmy, Grammy, and Mark Twain prize winner, and arguably one of the most influential comedians of the 21st century. While The Closer does not encourage violence against the trans community, it is harmful.

He fixates on the private parts of trans people, mocks the appearance of queer people, uses slurs, and compares trans women to white people wearing blackface.

Chappelle jokes about rapper DaBaby, who recently made homophobic remarks about HIV/AIDS. Chappelle says DaBaby, “Punched the LBGTQ community right in the AIDS.” He goes on to reference an incident where the rapper shot and killed another Black man in self-defense, which did not negatively affect his career. Chappelle says, “In our country you can shoot and kill a n***** but you better not hurt a gay person’s feelings.” This is the self-proclaimed central idea of The Closer. 

“I have never had a problem with transgender people… my problem has always been with white people,” he says. But as Black gay activist and writer Kenyon Farrow points out, Chappelle is playing into, “a 30 year-old campaign carried out by Christian Right groups to use LGBT rights as a cultural wedge issue with African-Americans,” and forgetting how many people belong to both groups. Chappelle posits these communities against each other with stories about encounters he’s had with white LGBTQ+ people. He says he is jealous of the progress the LGBTQ+ community has made over a hundred years, and jokes that “If slaves had oil and booty shorts on, we might have been free 100 years sooner.” It’s clear to me that Chappelle is frustrated. I get the impression through his stories that he thinks the LGBTQ+ community is a way for white people to victimize themselves, get away with racism, and distract from the ongoing struggles of the Black community. I understand why Chappelle thinks this way given his age and the life he has led but it’s still unfortunate to see minority groups still be pitted against each other by white supremacist, Christian, and right-wing structures.

As the National Black Justice Coalition points out in their criticism of the special: “With 2021 on track to be the deadliest year on record for transgender people in the United States — the majority of whom are Black transgender people — Netflix should know better. Perpetuating transphobia perpetuates violence.”

It’s such a shame that Chappelle’s standup in the last few years has come to this. In his early career, Danielle Fuentes Morgan, who teaches a course on African American comedy at Santa Clara University, says that he “punch[ed] up, to speak truth to power, to focus his ‘attacks’ on injustices and institutions with discernibly more power than he had.” Punching up or down is a concept usually discussed in the context of comedy. Punching up means criticizing and mocking a person, group of people, or institution with more power than you. Punching down is the reverse. In Chapelle’s case punching up would be white people, the police, the government for example, trans people decidedly belong to a group with less power than the cis-het millionaire. In The Closer, Chapelle acknowledges that he’s been accused of punching down, and wonders what the phrase means. As Morgan writes, “In teaching Chappelle, it’s become increasingly important to address how a person can be marginalized while also marginalizing others.”

I’ve written about the real world impact media has on minorities before, but comedians are a special case. Culturally, comedians have a bit of an outsider/underdog complex that many can’t shake, even when they become famous millionaires. There’s even a common joke that comedians are themselves a minority group. And so they think they can joke about anything, forgetting they have influence, especially in the era of mass-produced, mass-streamed Netflix stand-up comedy.

Many have pointed out the irony and hypocrisy of Sarandos’ recent claims “content on screen doesn’t directly translate to real-world harm” even after the platform released Disclosure in 2020, a documentary about the impact of ignorant and inaccurate portrayals of trans people in American cinema. This is the same documentary Sarandos cites in statements following the Chappelle controversy about Netflix’s commitment to inclusion.

No matter what Chapelle, Sarandos, or anyone who whines about cancel culture says, art has impact. Jokes cannot just be jokes, especially not ones aimed at minorities. No, The Closer is probably not going to directly cause someone to go out and commit a hate crime, just like author J.K. Rowling’s trans-exclusionary radical feminist (TERF) essay didn’t. But when hate and ignorance is given a platform, it is normalized and perpetuated and that is what leads to violence and discriminatory legislation.

 

Photo collage by Catherine Reynolds

What does a comedian do without their stage, according to Kate Hammer?

Checking in on your friendly neighbourhood comedian

“I love lying about traffic, for sure. Anything car-related.”

Kate Hammer gives  good advice. At 28, Hammer is a well-known stand-up comic, writer and performer in Montreal, who most notably wrote the sellout show The Peers which ran at Montreal’s 2019 Fringe Festival. Hammer’s been active, of course, until COVID-19 hit last winter. Since then, fans and concerned members of society can’t help but wonder: what have all these comics been doing without a stage and mic?

“My name is Kate Hammer, and it has been seven days since someone last came into my face and screamed ‘It’s Hammer time!’”

Hammer captured an audience last year in New York City with this introduction, followed by some lunging on stage. Clearly, they did theatre as a kid.

Known for their ambition and busy schedule, Hammer has a new perspective on work these days.

“Instead of saying yes to every show or trying to do as many shows as possible, take a step back,” Hammer says. “It’s that mindset of working smarter versus working a lot.”

This change of pace is big for Hammer, who grew up on a Lutheran farm in Stratford, Ontario that preached, “Eat whatever you want. Talk straight to God.” That, compounded with a strict farmer’s work ethic, “You can’t say no if you don’t feel well. Your livelihood depends on it.” Hammer is all about eating pudding, keeping your word, and investing in your dreams.

The “work smarter” attitude serves Hammer in their burgeoning career, as they recount doing three shows in one night during a snowstorm.

It’s like a big sense of just doing it, no matter how you feel.”

On the snowstorm occasion, Hammer leaned on their tried and true excuse for being late: traffic.

These days, Hammer’s beginning a master’s degree in TV Writing at Glasgow Caledonian University, and to that end, has moved and reshaped the direction of their life. Hammer studied Creative Writing at Concordia University, where they ran Concordia’s first comedy journal, The Hindwing Press, and created and hosted a monthly comedy show called INFEMOUS that aimed to create space for non-binary and female-identifying comedians in the stand-up community.

A lot of change came with Hammer’s shift in perspective towards working smart. With a focus on vulnerability, they see the obstacles that come from identifying as an artist, versus not. It can be hard when you haven’t accomplished your big project yet, or when you face scrutiny and constantly feel like you have to prove your chops. This insecurity is commonly known as imposter syndrome, and many artists come head-to-head with it at some point. Hammer’s tackling it head-on: “You’re not like an emerging or aspiring writer,” they continue. “If you’re writing, you’re a writer.”

The comedy scene has also changed recently. Online streaming services are investing a lot in comedy specials, with multi-million-dollar payouts for the first-tier talent, and five-figures for those second-tier comedians. Meanwhile, live comedy is no longer available with COVID-19 measures in place indefinitely. Alone, each of these changes would impact a comedian’s ability to “work smart.” Together, they’ve shifted the comedy world entirely.

Some artists adapted their stand-up structure to accommodate digital sets, like a Zoom game show or a podcast. Others, like Hammer, zeroed in on their writing aspirations.

“I think sussing out where you think your market is going,” Hammer says, “it’s always the smart move.”

Working smart can be difficult to do when your upbringing set the standard for a hard work ethic, like Hammer.

“I think the biggest thing is being forgiving to yourself, because working eight hours is bullshit. No one can work eight hours productively in a day.”

“One thing that can be helpful is to know when you are most efficient and when you need … higher level concentration,” says Montreal-based psychologist, Dr. Jade-Isis Lefebvre. This tactic helps maximize productivity so you don’t have to work too hard, but instead lean on your body’s natural rhythm to guide your workflow. Dr. Lefebvre believes a key determinant for success involves “tailoring your schedule as much as possible to … when you’re at your highest performance, when you’re the most energized.”

Instead of eight hours of unproductive work a day throughout the pandemic, Hammer is doubling down on self-care, and they want everyone to engage in it, too.

“It can just be hard to remember to do good things for yourself,” Hammer says. “I think that’s the biggest weird thing about this kind of collective rut, depression, sense of self-loss, sense of world-loss.”

By going outside a bit, getting into cooking, and taking care of plants, Hammer creates space for “little ways of meditating without actually meditating” with all the extra time left over from working smart.

Dr. Lefebvre agrees. “Creative endeavours are really good for building mindfulness, for expressing yourself, for understanding yourself, and getting more insight.” She wholly endorses the practice as a viable way to manage stress through these difficult times.

But most importantly, Hammer wants to make you laugh, especially as we’re living through a global pandemic. Joking is an important way to process what’s going on personally and collectively. That said, it’s important to consider the impact of your jokes. You have to ask yourself, “Where’s this coming from and what’s your point with it?” says Hammer.

“So what’s funny about the pandemic? Literally nothing,” Hammer says. “But everything around the pandemic, what’s happening with our actions and reactions, this shift in human behaviour and our needs — that’s hilarious.”

 

Feature photo by Jeremy Cabrera

Clog in the Machine: How to take a compliment

This is a piece of satire.

Sometimes it can be hard to tell when someone is complimenting you. Don’t worry, I’m here to help.

Do you ever struggle with identifying whether someone is complimenting you? Raise your hand if you’ve ever heard someone say, “Learn how to take a compliment! Gosh.” Trust me, ladies, you’re not the only one with your hand raised.

It’s hard to know just what to say when you get complimented, or even know when it’s happening. Growing up, I remember feeling like I’m just not tall enough to see a compliment coming without my heels on.

And then, it gets even more confusing — how do I respond? What do I say?

It can be oh-so stressful. Don’t fear, I’m here to help! After 25 years of experience getting compliments, I’m confident that my five-step process will guide you through the encounter from identifying, all the way to taking a compliment.

Step 1: Identify compliment as such

This can be difficult, as some compliments come in the form of screaming, googly-eyed facial expressions, or loud remarks from one chap to another, with the goal of you hearing their sidebar. This is normal. Sometimes you will be addressed from a moving car. In this case, if the car is driving under the speed limit, you will be expected to trot alongside the passenger seat, so as to better hear the compliment.

In this cultural landscape, observation-based remarks on one’s body or person, such as, “hot tits,” “sexy,” or “very nice,” are indeed compliments. Other forms of compliment may arrive as sound effects, such as, “woof woof” or invitations, like, “suck it!” I have appreciated each aforementioned compliment firsthand, and can confirm their status as such.

Step 2: Verify compliment with inquiry

In a case where someone is complimenting you, the last thing you want to do is seem too eager or vain. Make sure the speaker is indeed referring to you. You can do this by looking around to see if they might be addressing someone nearby, or maybe a neat patch of foliage, or the clouds. If no such alternative presents, return your gaze to the speaker, blink very slowly yet aggressively, like your top and bottom eyelash lines are at war, and mouth the word “Me?” while pointing to your face. The speaker will confirm or deny, as appropriate.

Step 3: Investigate compliment

It is important that, in a register only dogs can hear, you make your reply. This is when you can investigate the compliment, and get further information as to what the speaker intends with their remarks. My favourite response runs along the lines of, “While I am flattered, I’m curious why you said that to me.” The last thing you want to do is give the impression you are not flattered. It’s not every day somebody verifies your existence with a glance at your body. These are the terms in which people in our society validate each other — social media likes, Cash App tips, and comments on our bodies. The least we can do is show a little appreciation. Otherwise, it’s tacky.

The speaker will explain themselves, probably with hand gestures and descriptive language. Terms like “supple folds” and “peach blossoms” are common in such communications.

Step 4: Process compliment

You want to return validation, even when compliments sound like constructive criticisms, such as “bitch face” or a timeless classic “you’re ugly.” The very act of receiving commentary is the compliment. You will want to reply with warm thanks. Imagine what you would write in a thank you card after a particularly successful tombola.

To illustrate this, I will include an example. The last time I received a compliment, I replied, “This is a very kind combination of gestures and words that I feel are validating to my human experience. When I am approached in this manner, I like it.”

It is common that after such a pleasing interaction, the speaker will then encourage you. They might say, “That’s right, you little minx. I knew you liked it all along, if you’d just listen.”

Step 5: Take it

Now this is when it gets tricky, so strap on your highest heels so you can see what I’m saying. In order to take the compliment, you will want to walk over to the speaker, reach out your hand with your palms facing up to elicit a disarming stance, and then put your hand in the speaker’s coat pocket. Emerge from this pocket with their wallet, money clip, or any other accoutrement used for carrying money in hand. Remove any paper bills, signed cheques, and activated credit cards from said apparatus, thus taking the compliment. Return the empty wallet to the speaker and be on your way.

And there you go! How to take a compliment in five easy steps!

If you’re looking for more etiquette tips, just fish around in your purse for an antique wooden nail file with morse code carved into it. I snuck it in the front pouch while you were reading this.

 

 

Graphic by Lily Cowper

Categories
Music

A Swift Friendship

Damien Jurado and Nick Thune are Sad Music, Sad Comedy

Singer-songwriter Damien Jurado and comedian Nick Thune are both prominent artists from greater Seattle, but they never met until their mutual friend and collaborator, Richard Swift, died of complications from alcoholism in May, 2018.

Swift was a producer and multi-instrumentalist that worked with groups like the Shins and the Black Keys. Thune and Jurado came together to eulogize Swift at his memorial show, and became friends.

“I had never met him before, my oldest son and I were both big fans of Nick,” said Jurado. The show went so well that the two have decided to tour the east coast together, bringing music, comedy and sadness to L’Astral on Jan. 24. The show has Thune doing new jokes and stories, and Jurado playing cuts off of his newest album, In the Shape of a Storm. 

Thune is a veteran comedian and actor whose Comedy Central half-hour debuted in 2008. He’s known for his laid-back and dry style, as well as his sharp wit. He seems like the friend who’s the funniest in the group and is always getting away with something. Thune came up playing acoustic guitar as a bed for his jokes and has always been attracted to music, having originally wanted to become a musician. On stage, he would often open with a line to warm up the crowd: “Can I get more laughter in the monitors.”

“Comedians want to be musicians and musicians want to be comedians,” said Thune. “This tour kind of feeds into that idea.” His last full-length special, Good Guy, premiered in 2016 on Seeso (RIP) and focuses on the birth of his son. Since then, his son has turned five, he and his wife have separated, and he has gotten sober after the culmination of a serious battle with alcoholism in 2018. After the news of Swift’s death, Thune checked himself into rehab, and has since been feeling more creatively focused.

The romance of intoxication and drugs producing good art is false,” said Thune. “I don’t go running down these paths of a funny idea that I think I have when I’m drunk, then I hear about it when I’m not as drunk and I’m like ‘what was I thinking there?’”

While tired tropes of drugs and creativity populate all art forms, Thune noted that for him, sobriety was the clear path forward for not only his life, but his livelihood. When he was drunk, his thinking was clouded. “You’re really missing a lot more than you’re hitting. Right now with clarity and sobriety I’m hitting way more,” said Thune.

“Putting that show together, it felt like something that Richard would have loved to watch,” said Thune. Jurado and Swift were longtime collaborators. He produced songs on In The Shape of a Storm, which Jurado says makes up most of his setlist. The record is stripped down to just Jurado and his guitar. The songs are written intimately with themes of love––they are as vulnerable as they are powerful. This is sure to be a unique contrast with Thune’s brand of humour. “It’s fun because the audience feels like they’re getting different drugs,” said Thune.

“It’s a sense of laughter and sadness,” said Jurado. “I don’t have any expectations. Each individual person’s going to get their own experience out of this.”

The two cite influences in musical comedy, but the formula of a musician and a separate comedian on stage is rarely done. The duo share a bond that transcends art in their friendship with Swift.

“I was on stage and I was thinking to myself this is so crazy that Richard’s not here, to witness Nick and I not just being friends now but also going on tour,” said Jurado. “It’s a very strange missing part of the puzzle here.”

The show is sure to be a night of laughter and tragedy, and a common thread of two friends from the Pacific Northwest who shared a close friend. “Damien goes on first and makes you think about life, then I come on and make you want to end your life,” said Thune.

Speaking to them from their hotel in Pennsylvania, the two clearly share a sense of humour. I asked what Jurado and Thune want people to take away from this tour. “A ton of merch,” Thune said.

Sad Music, Sad Comedy plays at L’Astral on Jan. 24, at 8:00 p.m.

 

Categories
Student Life

Braving the world of stand-up comedy

Photo by Cecilia Piga

After getting out of a bad relationship where she felt powerless, and dealing with health issues consisting of debilitating migraine attacks, Diana Gerasimov found herself in a very dark place. For months, she felt that there was nothing that interested or captivated her. 

One day she was scrolling through Facebook when she saw a post calling for people who wanted to try stand-up comedy. She signed up, feeling reckless and thinking that this would be a one time thing. Turns out, she was wrong.

“No one was expecting me to do this. I didn’t expect myself to do this and I didn’t really care if it turns out bad,” she said.

The process of getting ready for her first show helped change Gerasimov’s outlook. “I didn’t feel motivated by anything, as one does when their mental health is poor,” she said. “This gave me a sense of purpose that I hadn’t felt in a while.” At the end of her first show at Barfly in Montreal at the start of the year, she felt extremely proud of herself.

Gerasimov finds inspiration for her jokes in many places. For one, she was raised by her single mother who is a Russian immigrant. She was always able to make people around her laugh by imitating her mother’s accent or pointing out her superstitious ways. She built jokes around what her friends thought was funny about her cultural background.

I exploited the stereotypes against me, and now I’m reclaiming them,” she said. Gerasimov also gets inspired by her environment. “I’m a big eavesdropper, on transportation especially, and I try to build a context around whatever joke or punchline I’ve written.”

Gerasimov is a Concordia student, studying communications and cultural studies. Even though she works hard on her stand-up, she doesn’t find that it really interferes with her schooling.

“Juggling school work and stand-up feel pretty easy,” said Gerasimov. “They both compliment each other, where stand-up kind of feels like eating a greasy poutine and school is like eating a jar of pickled beets.”

Being a 22-year-old woman, there aren’t many comics like Gerasimov. Comedy is a male-dominated space and can often feel intimidating; because of this, Gerasimov didn’t expect to find such a feeling of togetherness through this craft.

“I found a sense of community and support. People are inviting you to shows and people want you to meet other comedians,” she said. But it was more than that for Gerasimov: she noticed that people are interested in specifically seeing her do stand-up. She says that most people that do stand-up are 35 years old and over, and are typically male. She loves surprising people on stage because she doesn’t look like your typical stand-up comedian.

Gerasimov explained that this surprise comes from a lack of representation. “You are constantly put in a box as a woman,” she said. “You’re either smart, pretty or funny. You can’t have it all. You can’t be multidimensional and complex. You have to be one thing.”

“During my last set, a 50-year-old guy came up to me after and was grazing my arm for four minutes,” she recounted. “This was before he gave me advice on how I should go forward with my set and telling me that my tone was too monotone. He also said he found me to be extremely hilarious.”

Her routine often includes men and sexism, although not without repercussions from the audience. When she does certain jokes, she sometimes gets bombarded by unwanted suggestions at the end of her shows.

A few times, Gerasimov has been heckled or cat-called during a performance. While this can be quite alarming, she explained it’s important to try and tie the comment into her joke somehow. If she’s doing a bit about how men are frustrating and a man yells “I love you,” she can use this to help her own joke and make her point. This helps her regain control, because problems can arise when she lets something like that destabilize her.

One of Gerasimov’s favourite times performing was at LadyFest, a female-run comedy festival in Montreal that’s been going on for five years and showcases female performers. She attended as a guest and didn’t expect to be performing, but then received a last minute opportunity.

“I think it went well because I didn’t have so much time to psych myself out, which I normally tend to do,” said Gerasimov. “I analyze a joke for so long it becomes unfunny to me.”

Sometimes Gerasimov suffers from imposter syndrome; she often questions if she is even allowed to call herself a comic.

“Men don’t have a problem calling themselves comics after a few times performing, and women constantly have to prove they are funny to an audience,” she said.

If Gerasimov could become very successful, she would do comedy as a career, but otherwise, it is a difficult thing to pursue professionally.

“It’s either you’re doing comedy and several other things to keep you afloat or you’re super successful,” she said. Gerasimov is also interested in script writing. She’s written a few episodes for a web series, and hopes to continue to develop skills that she’s learned from writing stand-up routines.

“[Comedy has] given me so much more confidence in day-to-day interactions, networking, approaching people and putting myself out there for different opportunities,” said Gerasimov.

She also explained that comedy can be terrifying because it’s so vulnerable. It’s not like a music show where it’s polite to clap whether a performer is good or bad; it all comes down to audience responses. It’s automatic, and you don’t have any control over it. You are truly at the mercy of your audience. “It almost seems pathetic to be like, ‘let me make you laugh’,” she said. “I’m basically on stage begging for people to laugh at me.”

“If you really must joke about something that might offend, be ready for the commentary,” said Gerasimov, noting that accountability in stand-up is becoming more of a priority. “But to be quite blunt, if you feel as though you have nothing to joke about because ‘everyone is so sensitive,’ then you’re just a lazy writer.” She explained that this doesn’t mean issues shouldn’t be addressed in comedy.

“There are ways to write jokes that offer a commentary on the state of the world, I think it just comes down to intention,” she said.

This past week, Gerasimov performed twice at the Diving Bell Social Club. Keep an ear out for her next show on Facebook – it might just be the study break you need right now!

Photo by Cecilia Piga

Categories
Opinions

Maybe The Office Actually Does Age Well

Older television shows are often under fire for being tone deaf or insensitive.

Shining light on the boring and unacceptable jokes is important and this accountability is a crucial part of growing as a society. However, there is one show that I always find myself defending — The Office (the American version).

Have you heard of it?

I have read and heard a lot of criticism about this show and I find that often, these comments are missing the mark. Where the office differs from a lot of other sitcoms from the 90s and early 2000s is one thing — intention.

The intention of the office is to exaggerate workplace misconduct. Jaya Saxena, a writer for GQ says, “The butt of the joke is the sexist, racist fool of a boss, and if you are taking his jokes at face value, you don’t understand what’s going on.”

The show is exaggerated and often excruciatingly awkward, but at the end of the day it is a satire and social commentary about the struggles of an office dynamic. It addresses many of the problems that emerge from this hierarchy.

The documentary style of the show helps release a lot of the tension that is built up from the audience. For example, I cringe when Micheal makes inappropriate jokes towards Pam. He comments on her appearance and sexualizes her but she often looks to the camera to relieve the tension he creates. Her eye contact helps the audience empathize with her, rather than listen solely to Micheal’s comments. The fourth wall creates a relationship with the more relatable characters of the show, that in an odd way, hold Micheal’s absurd behaviour accountable.

This doesn’t mean that The Office isn’t hard to watch sometimes. It’s crude and not very sensitive when addressing deep societal injustices. In some ways, the #MeToo movement has been a catalyst for the harsh reaction and frustration surrounding this show. This movement and other similar ones have brought unified attention toward the issues of workplace harassment. This in no way means that these problems weren’t prevalent and invasive before, nor does it mean this is the first time they have been addressed. This speaks more to the recent shift of public consciousness. Although this is evident, Saxena says that The Office enables us to laugh at our own unhappiness.

“Its humour, and its problems, come from it being a situation most of us can’t avoid,” Saxena continues. “Most people have bosses and co-workers. Most people have been in a position where they have to decide between taking a stand and keeping their job.”

Writer Matt Melis from Consequence of Sound explains that if we take a closer look at The Office, we will notice that the characters behaviours are representing that of society.

Do you remember the episode in the third season where Phyllis gets flashed in the parking lot? Each character reacted more inappropriately than the next. At face value, this might seem like one big joke. Micheal alludes to how he thought this would happen to a more attractive woman like Pam. Angela shames her, Dwight blames her, Creed dismisses her and even Pam turns it into a joke. Melis explains that this episode does a “remarkable, if not entirely realistic, job of illustrating just how alone and unsupported a victim, male or female, might feel after that sort of terrible experience.”

Like any other sitcom, The Office isn’t perfect. I think criticism and discussion surrounding any show can be productive, especially when it’s political and satirical. This is the exciting thing about sharing opinions and learning about what is harmful.

When our beloved Monica is fat shamed in Friends, she is the butt of the joke. When Seinfield does a bit on suicide, these people are the ones being made fun of, not the health system. However, what sets The Office apart is that when Micheal does something ridiculous, we are supposed to criticize him, we are supposed to roll our eyes and cringe at the ridiculousness and reality of the situation.

I would recommend rewatching it with this lens. You just might be able to laugh at the unpleasant reality that is the power structures of a traditional and workplace dynamic — and you might not. There’s space for both. 

Graphic by @sundaeghost

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Opinions

What’s up with Lilly Singh?

Lilly Singh’s comedy in her YouTube videos is overly theatrical for my taste.

However, there is no denying her accomplishments as an Indian and openly bisexual woman in the media. In an article from The Globe and Mail, Singh is praised for redefining late-night TV on NBC. Hosting her own show, “A Little Late with Lilly,” an accomplishment traditionally dominated by white men, is impressive, to say the least.

Furthermore, Singh’s jokes are not without their share of controversy, and criticism. Some ever took their disapproval to online platforms.

“The Curious Case of Lilly Singh,” a YouTube video by user j aubrey, nitpicks Singh down to her core. It should be noted that j aubrey is male and, well, white. He has been critical of many other large YouTubers such as Lele Pons and Tana Mongeau. In December 2018, Forbes released a list of the most successful YouTubers. No women were mentioned on this list, so Singh took to social media to voice her disapproval. “If you already have more success than you know what to do with, nobody wants to hear you complain about representation,” j aubrey said. The YouTuber criticizes her for “playing the victim” despite her financial success.

In her late-night show, Singh often uses white people as the focus of her jokes. What is wrong with this exactly? Well, nothing in my opinion, but j aubrey seems to think that if she wants to make jokes about race, she should do so in a creative manner.

He focuses on her “racism” towards white people with her punching-up humour. “It’s the way she shoves her identity down her audiences throat,” he said. This is hardly a step in the right direction. Singh’s punching-up humour is not racist towards white people. You cannot be racist towards a group of oppressors, sorry, j aubrey.

This is a dangerous mindset to have when it comes to race, feminism and the representation we see in the media. This is not where growth occurs, but rather where it remains stagnant. Singh is an oppressed minority, and painting her as some kind of bitter feminist for voicing that recognition in the workplace is still very much unequal, is another gripe in an unfair, white male power balance. We have been able to make small steps of progress in regards to discrimination, but these small steps have only occurred from speaking out. Prejudice is rooted in the framework of society. Having these discussions is vital in the fight for equality.

While the comments Singh has received from j aubrey are neither here nor there, she has been the topic of legitimate criticism from the Black community. McKensie Mack wrote a viral essay in 2017 on modern day blackface. Mack states that Singh also steps in and out of blackness, like many white people. That she performs “a stereotyped version of Black culture and identity.”  Singh has dressed in chains, rapped on a basketball court and worn cornrows for her YouTube videos. However, while on the cover of magazines, Singh’s chains are nowhere in sight. Mack criticized Singh for using Blackness as a costume, “she puts on Blackness in the morning and takes it off at night.” She has also made jokes at the expense of the Punjabi community on air. Singh told Jessica Alba while interviewing her on her show, that her children wrapping towels around their heads would look like her Punjabi friends. She later took to social media to apologize for the joke. Singh has failed to acknowledge how her comedy has been seen as offensive to the Black community. It would be worth acknowledging her mistakes with appropriation.

Though, as far as I’m concerned, if you are offended by Singh’s punching-up humour, then in the words of comedian Stephen Fry, “well, so what?” 

 

Graphic by Victoria Blair.

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Opinions

The role of the audience in comedy

In 2019, people claim comedy is “under attack.” Is this true?

The short answer is no, but I seem to be writing an article here, so let me explain.

Comedians such as Bill Maher, Louis CK, Kevin Hart and Dave Chappelle are experiencing a change in their careers. This most definitely does not mean that their careers are over, so, let’s take a closer look. Chapelle fans – stay with me.

I’m assuming that you have heard this argument being circulated for quite some time and although this might feel frustrating, I don’t think it’s necessarily negative.

Comedy and comedians represent laughter, happiness and, more importantly, growth and learning. There’s a reason why people look at political memes more than political policies: humour can be accessible, clever, and most of all, it has an impact.

Comedy is changing. People are no longer laughing at things that make them feel small. Social media and other large platforms are giving previously silenced communities a voice in the comedic world. We are speaking truth to power and this all feeds into one thing: the evolving role of the audience.

Yes – that’s us, the audience!

We have more control than ever before. It’s exciting, but naturally quite unnerving for comedians that have spent most of their lives writing jokes and not thinking about how they could offend people.

Despite acting like they don’t care, we have seen evidence that the opposite is true. Let’s take a look at Chappelle for a moment. He’s undoubtedly a very successful comedian who has been called out for his tone deaf demeanour for the past two years. He’s a powerful figure, re-emerging as a comedian in a world very different than the one he’s used to.

Jenna Wortham and Welsey Morris, New York Times writers and hosts of the podcast  Still Processing, highlight that in his newest standup, Chappelle is just plain lashing out at the audience.

He says,“If you do anything wrong in your life, and I find out about it, I’m going to try and take everything away from you and I don’t care when I find out… Who’s that? That’s you!”

The shift here is obvious. The audience is clearly impacting the way Chappelle normally functions. He is making a joke out of his fear for his career.

Listen, I am aware that I’m yet another chia seed eating, avocado spreading, social media savvy, left-wing millennial preaching about why Chappelle is a sore loser, but hear me out.

I’m not trying to promote cancel culture or tell you what you should or shouldn’t watch. I understand that in this social climate things often sway to an extreme. This being said, I think it’s important to understand the reality of where comedy is going.

Comedian and actor Kevin Hart is another public figure who has voiced his frustration with the audience.

He said in an interview, “I don’t understand why there’s a push to destroy what you just don’t have to support or like.”

Even though he is using oversimplified vernacular to describe backlash he received about homophobic comments, I think the important thing to note in this comment is the word “destroy.” Comedians are fearful that the audience can control their careers and instead of adapting, they don’t know how to handle it.

Nazeem Hussain, an Australian comedian speaks openly about understanding the audience’s fluid role.

In an interview with Eureka Street, he said, “’the audience doesn’t buy that homophobic, racist and sexist stuff anymore. It’s lazy comedy, they should find new jokes and get a laugh.”

Hannah Gadsby, a writer and comedian also from Australia spoke very eloquently about the dissonance certain comedians won’t stop complaining about, in an interview with Esquire.

“So many comedians expect control of the room when they’re onstage, because they’ve got the magic stick that amplifies their voice, and everyone has to listen,” she said. “Comedy no longer exists in a vacuum. To be relevant, you have to speak with your audience. You don’t get to just tell them how it is.”

People are not standing for harmful jokes anymore. This does not mean vulgarity is dead and that audiences can’t handle explicit or shocking material.

It means the role of the audience has changed – and that’s not a bad thing.

 

Graphic by @sundaeghost

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Opinions

Why we need more women in late-night

There’s nothing like kicking my feet up after a long day, turning on my TV and hanging out with one of my dear friends: John Oliver, Seth Myers, Trevor Noah, or Samantha Bee.

Late-night comedy plays an important role in my life and over the last half-decade, its place in society has shifted. Due to an information overload and the aggravating political climate, this outlet has become a more digestible way to get news.

According to a study in the Global Media Journal, comedians are aware of this shift. The journal states “Despite the fact that Late-Night TV show comedians are not necessarily considered as professional journalists, they identify themselves with the market model of professional journalism.” Since late-night comedians are often seen as journalists in at least some facet, it’s important to examine how this affects our world view.

These late-night shows often highlight and criticize the lack of diversity and inclusivity within the system, but, ironically, the demographics of late-night comedians is still quite homogeneous. According to The Los Angeles Times, there is a lack of women writers in leading late-night shows. Patriot Act with Hasan Minaj consists of only 20 per cent female writers, 22 per cent on the Daily Show with Trevor Noah, 25 per cent on Last Week Tonight With John Oliver, 28 per cent on Late Night with Seth Meyers, 17 per cent with Conan, and even Full Frontal with Samantha Bee has only 45 per cent women writers.

Women have been fighting for a voice in comedy for a long time, and it’s important to address how their voice has the ability to influence our perception of the world. Since the role of late-night comedians has become to articulate and digest world events in a humorous manner, it is crucial to widen the way that this is done.

Tina Fey recounted to David Letterman in an interview that her experience with a more diverse writing room has lead to social change.

“As the chemistry of the room slowly became more diverse, other things played better,” she said. She continued by explaining that women just simply laugh at different things than men. For a long time, people have thought that what is funny for men is universal and what is funny for women is strictly for women. This is another way that the patriarchy dominates society.

Although it does look bare for women in late-night, there has been a push for more representation. According to Elle.com, Lilly Singh, an Indian-Canadian YouTuber, will be hosting a late-night show on NBC, which will air after Seth Meyers’ at 1:35 a.m. Other late-night hosts, like Seth Meyers, have added segments to push a more diverse agenda. The segment “Jokes Seth Can’t Tell” allows writers for the show, Amber Ruffin and Jenny Hagel, to take the floor and tell jokes that would not be politically correct for straight white men to say.

On a podcast called Late Night with Joy Reid, Jenny Hagel explains that different stories and jokes emerge when people connect to the news in different ways.

“When you are a member of a sub-community you just have a different angle,” Hagel said. “You might think, ‘awh man that sucks’ from a distance but if it hits you directly you might find a different way into that joke, or have a different idea for a sketch about it.”

Even the most progressive comedians, like John Oliver and Trevor Noah, are limiting themselves by having less diversity in their writing rooms. Although they may have a very balanced and well-informed perspective, they will not receive the same intellectual, psychological, and emotional reaction to news from the other less represented members of society.

 

Graphic by @sundaeghost

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Opinions

I watched Dave Chappelle’s new comedy special so you don’t have to

I love dark humour. I live in a generation raised by memes and shaped by absurd, Dadaist comedy. I also live in a more open-minded, progressive, and inclusive generation than anyone before mine. How do I reconcile the two?

It’s not that complicated. If you make a joke that’s funny, I’ll laugh. Just don’t be a complete asshole while you do it. I’m looking at you, Dave Chappelle.

While having been in the business for over 35 years, Chappelle still finished as the third highest-paid comic last year, according to recent Forbes statistics. His new stand-up special, Sticks and Stones, was marketed as this sort of celebration of all that is politically incorrect and supposedly funny. In reality, it’s closer to a fading comedian who operates in the same capacity as a Reddit troll.

He opens the show complaining about cancel culture and shows a remarkable lack of understanding of the very industry he thrives in. By mocking the suicide of Anthony Bourdain, (because apparently rich people can’t struggle from anything), Chappelle not only completely misinterpreted some of the harsh realities surrounding suicide, but belittled everything Bourdain went through.

He then moved on to practically brag about being a victim blamer and did his best impression of the shrug emoji when entertaining the fact that the allegations made against Michael Jackson might hold some truth.

“Even if he did do it *shrugs*,” said Chappelle. And then went on to explain why it should be an honour and an incredible sexual achievement to be assaulted by someone that famous. He seemed to not notice the blatant irony as he had the audacity to criticize the #MeToo movement and defend Louis C.K.’s actions.

Next up came the same old, overused, and painfully unfunny joke about trans athletes. He continued to go on about how Lebron James could just announce that he identified as a woman and score as much as he wanted. Chappelle—who is widely regarded as one of the greatest comics of all time—is now stuck rehashing the same level of comedy as idiots who yell out “bUt WhAt If i IdEnTiFy aS An ApAcHe HeLiCoPtEr.” That was just the tip of the transphobic iceberg.

Oh, by the way, this was all within the first twenty minutes. Now, I could end up writing a doctoral thesis on everything wrong with the following 40-minute shitshow, like his complaining about not being able to use homophobic slurs in his skits or referring to the LGBTQ+ community as “the letter people,” but my blood pressure can only take so much.

What Chappelle is doing right now is clinging to the last bit of clout he has in a changing world of comedy. More and more TV shows, skits, and comics are realizing that you can be open-minded and progressive and still be absolutely hilarious, all while pushing the envelope and tackling dark humour.

Dave Chappelle is one of the people that stands to suffer from that shift in comedy. He appears so dead-set on shaming you for enjoying an inclusive comedy experience that people like Hasan Minhaj or John Oliver can provide.

Chappelle tried so hard to sound edgy but he just ended up coming off as an ugly, asinine mix between your annoying, boomer uncle’s Facebook feed and an 11-year-old that just discovered what the word “dank” means.

Dave Chappelle will always go down as one of the greatest pioneers of comedy and one of the first from that field to become an international mega-star. That’s why it pains me so much to see him so unapologetically insufferable.

Did I crack a smile once or twice while watching? Sure. But it’s disheartening to see such a funny human stoop so low that they would appeal to the lowest common denominator of an audience. Instead of changing with the times and showing some range, he’s doubled down on being as unabashedly insulting to as many people and communities as possible.

 

Graphic by Victoria Blair

Categories
Arts

All are welcome at LadyFest’s annual comedy extravaganza

From Sept. 3 to 9, Ladyfest will highlight female, femme-identifying and non-binary comedians across Montreal. For more details on showtimes and locations, go to www.facebook.com/ladyfestMTL/. Graphic by Ana Bilokin.

“One love, no jerks”

Comedy is an art, one that LadyFest has been highlighting through the performances of female, femme-identifying and non-binary comedians for four years.

Co-producers Emma Wilkie, Sara Meleika, Lar Simms and Deirdre Trudeau created the festival to give comedians like Stacy Gagnidze  the platform they need to share their funniest selves with the world. The festival includes a wide range of talent, from stand-up and storytelling, to improv and sketch comedy.

Gagnidze is a Concordia alumna from the John Molson School of Business (JMSB) and has been a comedian since she was a teenager. Today, she performs with Mess Hall and Colour Outside the Lines. Mess Hall, an impov-based comedy club, is dedicated to performing the Harold structure known for its specific and difficult format. The Harold structure consists of three unrelated, yet overlapping scenes and typically lasts between 25 and 40 minutes. Colour Outside the Lines is an improv team that’s all about diversity and uplifting voices from different racial, cultural, religious and linguistic backgrounds. Gagnidze has also performed at Just For Laughs, and she identified the difference between the two festivals in their creative mission. LadyFest was created with a social mission, to uplift women’s voices in comedy, while Just for Laughs is just what the name suggests.

“Today, Just For Laughs is playing catch-up in this space,” she said. “LadyFest audiences who attend have made a conscious decision to come out and support female and female-identifying performers. As a performer, this offers me a safe space onstage where I can take risks and explore boundaries.”

LadyFest co-producer, Lar Simms also broke into comedy as a teenager in Winnipeg, taking improv classes and performing in plays. “When I moved to Montreal, taking improv classes at Montreal Improv in 2012 really helped me to build confidence and trust my comedic sensibilities, as well as develop a sense of group mind when collaborating with the imaginations of others,” Simms said.

Since then, she has added stand-up, sketch, clown, and other character performances to her theatre background.

“Performing, speaking your truth onstage or just being absurdly silly and having that resonate with a large crowd can be an empowering experience,”

she said, for both the audience and the performer. According to Simms, collective laughter can be cathartic and healing, making it important to strive for the space to do so, especially in an industry where comics have long been underrepresented in local and mainstream comedy.

That being so, attending comedy shows that are increasingly accessible to these kinds of audiences encourages funding for the creation and development of such spaces. A personal blog post by award winning stand-up comic, actor and writer,  Sandra Battaglini,  criticizes Canada for hosting Just For Laughs, the world’s largest comedy festival, when the Canadian Council for the Arts still refuses to fund stand-up because it is recognized as entertainment, rather than art.

“We create art by stringing together words in such a way that culminates in laughter,” Battaglini writes. “It releases so many endorphins, you could say it saves lives. It certainly saved mine.”

Gagnidze will be performing with Colour Outside the Lines at Théâtre Ste-Catherine on Sept. 8 at 8 p.m. The troupe will be sharing the stage with Yas Kween, an ensemble of women of colour brought together by Nelu Handa, who stars on CBC’s Workin’ Moms.

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