In the weeks leading up to this show, there seemed to be a
lot of conversation in the local comedy groups about an all-female line-up. Or
maybe it only felt like a lot of conversation because I found myself in the
midst of most of it. In person, by text, in our Facebook Playground, we were
discussing the merits of funny women. The opinions seemed to fall into a few
specific categories.
Erin is a skilled balance
of all we’ve seen on this bill. She has an assured manner, a bright presence,
an invigorating energy and funny material that she weaves from personal to
political, like Arachne building a flawless tapestry. When she says she doesn’t
want to be a maid of honor (can’t I just write a check for $800 and avoid the
fake nails, horrible hair?), it feels like a conversation you’d have with your
sister. When she kicks it up a notch (Brides wear veils. I’m pretty sure we
declared war on people for that…our women only do it on the day when their
property and rights get turned over from their father to their husband….), it
feels more like an Advanced Feminist Theory lesson taught by an ultra-cool grad
student.
1) Women are funny? Don’t even get me started. That
was not a happy chat.
2) If women are so funny, why do they need their own
show? This was a legitimate exchange, with good dialogue and a willingness
to explore the whys and wherefores. Ultimately, I shared my thought, that
all-female comedy shows serve much the same purpose as the Apollo and Motown
did for black musical performers. To get the attention of the money holders,
invariably men and mostly white, it didn’t hurt to show that you could fill a
room, sell out a show, bring a fan base. And sometimes it’s just fun to be with
your own, to talk short-hand and share insider moments. Besides, it isn’t a
question of needing a single-sex show. It’s just the reality that most of the
shows we see locally have a 1:10 female to male ratio; usually there are 5 male
comics and an audience of supportive wives. At the club level, female
headliners are becoming more frequent. And some of the women you’ll read about
in this review will be among those ranks one day.
3) Who said women aren’t funny? I love this.
It means either there’s a new generation coming up that just doesn’t think so
hard about the gender differences, or it means a number of the open micers just
don’t know enough history to realize what an issue it’s been. Both of those possibilities
speak to a brighter future.
In the present, however, there is this awesome show at Funny
Bone, co-produced by Anna Phillips and Pam Werts. These ladies have been
creating showcases for some of the funniest women on the east coast - and a few
from across the border - to entertain intimate rooms and packed clubs alike.
And on this night, the house was sold out. The box office was turning away
anyone without reservations – even being in Pam’s entourage barely got her
husband through the door. With solid promotion and the obvious support of management,
Chicks are Funny was a win all around.
It’s no secret that both Anna and Pam are my girls. And, the
same way I told you that I had to try to check my bias when reviewing my male
comic friends, I would struggle having to tell either of them if they hadn’t
delivered. Fortunately, they both consistently bring the laughter.
Pam is a naturally funny storyteller. Sitting across the
table from her over Saturday afternoon scallion pancakes at Chen’s Garden, I
hear every detail of the past week; even without the accompanying texts and
photos, I can envision the myriad expressions, locations and situations she’s
experienced since our last lunch and I spend most of the meal trying not to
choke on my steamed dumplings. Tonight, I get to hear her take on graduation
parties, the Amish Mafia (Drive-bys must be epic fails. Can’t they hear the
carriage coming?), the ridiculous world of insurance advertising and the
importance of getting smart people to start fucking again. Not only is she a
funny chick, but she’s also a great MC. She’s good at reading the crowds,
working the room. Just like Santa, she sees us when we’re sleeping, and uses
her energy to push us back up to the proper laugh level as she ushers each
comic to the stage.
First up is Anna Phillips. It would be hard for me to
imagine, among my comedy chick friends, a greater contrast of energy. Anna is low-key,
her wit is desert dry and lightning fast. She starts by commenting on the
entrance music (Spice Girls? Really? Is that ‘cause I have a vagina?), then
goes straight into breaking down some very new personal information: getting a
mammogram and being diagnosed “prediabetic”. (Isn’t everyone pre-diabetic? It’s
a little like being pre-dead.) The interactions with the registered dietician
(She’s talking to me like I’m five years old. Eat healthy fruits – watermelon
is bad. Oh, that’s bullshit, man. That’s probably why black people have
diabetes in the first place.) and the x-ray tech (I don’t like nudity. I take a
shower in my clothes. When she put that slime on me, I felt awkward, started
moaning.) feel like time-treated bits, even though the mammogram had happened
mere hours before the show. Because she’s my friend, I can tell you that this
is her natural state, this is how her brain processes.
And I love that she is fearless when it comes to discussing
race. She talks about white-on-white racism (I can’t co-sign on it, but I enjoy
the “fight amongst yourselves” approach.), the racially divided reaction to her
not voting for Obama (My black friends were like, Nigga’, explain yourself,
while my white friends were like, Explain yourself, Nigger.) and the way she
uses history against her supervisor (She asks me to bring her a cup of coffee,
I say “yes, Massa, right away.” She says never mind, let me get you some. I
like my coffee with a little white guilt.) She ends by addressing her black
guilt: I tip 70% to make up for those who came before.
Anna and Pam will both be on next month’s show. See them in
person, because I don’t really do justice to either of them here.
Next on the bill is Anne Lin. She dives right in with the
difficulties of growing up Asian in a small town (I went to a small school
where I was ALL the minority.), having a dad who she describes as a Chinese
redneck (pick a different American dream, one with fewer Jeff Foxworthy jokes),
waiting ‘til college to have sex (I’m Asian. I was an overachiever. I didn’t
realize freshman 15 was about weight….). I really like Anne’s joke writing. “My
dad has a deer head mounted on the wall, with Samuri swords crossed underneath.
Like he’s saying, ‘Don’t worry, we’re still Asian.’ Yeah, but not Japanese.” Or
this one, about a guy who is hitting on her: “’Taiwan ? I love Thai food!’ Never
mind. I don’t have time to explain fifty years of Cold War history.”
Anne seemed a little nervous, and the audience was restless.
Talking to her after the show, I learned that that was her biggest crowd to
date and that she didn’t know where the light was, so wasn’t sure when to end.
Those are performance mechanics, and I am confident they will improve over
time. Right now, her strength is in her very smart writing; I am looking
forward to watching Anne grow as a comic.
Martha O’Neill reminds me of an actress whose name I still
can’t recall, but she’s boozy and blowzy and full of confidence. She begins her
set by telling the audience how gorgeous they are (I’ve been married to my
husband for 19 years. Anyone who isn’t him is doable). After struggling to get
into her jeans, then looking down to discover they were her husband’s, she’s
started the Cayenne/Maple Syrup/Lemon diet (My piss makes an awesome salmon
marinade.). She has a nice bit about aging as an attractive woman (I walked by
a construction site. Silence. I doubled back, got nothing. The third time, I
actually walked into a guy who said, “Sorry, I didn’t see you,” to which I
responded, “Hey, buddy, my breasts are down here.”) that leads to an Orange is the New Black
reference (I walk past prisons at lunch. Incarceration makes this look
attractive again.)
Martha’s style is powerful without being in-your-face.
Sometimes, as women, we push too hard to sell ourselves; Martha gives out a
very solid energy that basically says, I know I’m funny, you know I’m funny, so
why pretend otherwise? Her closing bit about reading stories online with her
son and searching for “big brown bear” (Mommy, what was that man doing to
Santa?) is killer. Check out www.marthaoneill.com
and listen to her pod cast, “The Joke Merchants with Martha O’Neill.”
Next on the stage is Suga Mama, a Rochester comic whose act I have been
watching develop weekly at Comedy at Acanthus. Suga Mama’s style is
audience-friendly, light hearted even when the jokes skew a little dark. She tells
the crowd to give themselves a hand for coming out and supporting live comedy,
and it’s a well-deserved acknowledgment, considering the house is packed. She
jumps right in with Anthony Weiner jokes (speaking of hard…this Weiner’s a real
dick. His wife is sticking by him. I hear she’s getting counseling from
Hillary.), followed by a Rhianna reference (I went to her concert because I
wanted to see where she was punched) and the new way she has to justify calling
off work (I think my grandmother has died like three times now. My boss says I
have to bring proof…I don’t care. I’ll walk into a funeral home and snatch a
program, no problem!). Her closing bit tonight is about the couple who were
born on the same day, eloped at 18, spent 75 years together and died a day
apart: She’s up in Heaven, he shows up. She’s like, “Damn, I can’t get one day
to myself?” Catch Suga Mama at open mics and local shows in the WNY area.
Thanks to Pam’s orchestration, Becky Bays
takes the spotlight to people chanting her name and cheering; because of her
own wit and wonderfulness, the laughter and cheering continue throughout her
entire set. This is my introduction to Becky.
I’m visiting from Toronto . I was approached by a homeless guy
asking if I could spare some change. I said no. He told me to go fuck myself.
“Sir, that is never my first choice. I may have to, though, given our
lack of chemistry.”
I honestly spit water on myself. Here is this very petite,
proper woman tapping my shoulder with these simple premises - did you know
birds eat one and a half times their weight in food each day? – and then
landing the punch – I DO eat like a bird! – right upside my brain. I struggled
not to miss a single joke while scribbling like a mad woman so I could do her
justice in this review. I’m going to offer you a few of my favorites, then compel
you with all my psychic strength to go to www.beckybays.com
and watch her video clips. This one, you need to see for yourself!
“I can’t date younger guys. The judge was very specific….”
“The trainer told me, Becky, I never want you to do a
regular crunch again. I’m waaay ahead of you. I stopped years ago.”
She’s in a museum in Croatia
when she overhears Joanne from Nebraska
say, “If I hadn’t run into you ten minutes ago, I would have missed this. That
was God – God wanted me to see this.” So Haiti
and Darfur fell through the cracks because God
was too busy helping Joanne set her travel plans.
While sharing her one great skill (spelling and grammar)
which has no modern application except being a complete asshole on blogs and
Facebook: Oh, you “alluded” them? Hahaha. I think you mean “elude”. Oh, you
should “of” done that? Perhaps you mean should “have.” When you say you allowed
your seven year old to do something and you spell it a-l-o-u-d, aren’t you just
really saying she’s already exceeded your level of education?
“My mother said, never assume. It makes you a bitch.”
Go to Becky’s web site and listen to her tell the tales of
meat chunk showers in 19th-century Kentucky , people who believe everything
happens for a reason and Haida beds. Follow her on twitter. Personally, I’m
waiting for the “Becky Bays Quirk-A-Day” desk calendar.
Working our way to tonight’s headliner, the audience has
been engaged, excited and expressive: Erin
Judge comes out swinging. “Lots of promises in hip hop music to do it until the break
of dawn. Guys don’t do that. Maybe if you start at, like, ten minutes to dawn.”
“I’m bisexual. If you don’t know what that means, is, you’re my type. Unless
you’re a type that wouldn’t like me back, like gay dudes or the Amish.” People
can’t seem to wrap their mind around her bisexuality. “’You have so many
choices, oh my god, Erin, how do you deal with it, so many choices, so many
choices.’ There are two, okay? Dudes and chicks. Dudes are dumb and chicks are
nuts…with chicks, I end up saying stuff like, ‘honey, please stop crying. sweetie,
I’m sorry, don’t cut yourself’…with dudes, it’s more like, ‘Don’t pee on
that!’”
Here are a few of my favorites from this show. “In case I
get mugged, I carry two iPods. One is loaded with songs about stealing and
remorse.” “People say, ‘I don’t mind God
– it’s his followers I can’t stand.’ That’s how I feel about Dave Matthews.” “My
mom showed me how to put condoms on bananas, which is great because most
bananas I have sex with don’t know how to put it on themselves.” “This car
doesn’t run on fear of abandonment and low self-esteem.” “I personally have
never understood the appeal of 69. For me it’s like this. I either want to be
at work or on vacation. I don’t want to be getting emails from my boss while
I’m at the beach.”
There’s so much more about Erin
that I’m sure you will love. Go to www.erinjudge.com,
where you can pick up a copy of her cd, “So Many Choices.” Follow the link to
her blog, So Make It Up.
I am so grateful to Pam for batting her lashes – or bobbing
her breasts, whichever – to get us into this show. I hope every last one of the
naysayers who seemed puzzled at an all-female line-up will come check out the next
Chicks are Funny on August 28th. Carlisle Carey, Jaye McBride,
Sabrina Davis, Anna Phillips, Pam Werts and headliner Liz Russo will provide
another much-needed night of laughter, and Funny Bone Syracuse is a great room
in which to take it all in.
Back to question number three. Who said women aren’t
funny? Not this girl. A month later and I’m still giggling. Glad you joined
me.
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