The unfunny things that happen to funny women

Sexism in the entertainment industry is, as of today, an unfortunate fact of life. It is perhaps most salient, however, in comedy, a genre increasingly defined by irreverent female voices who take sexism head-on in their art.

While it’s starting to change (albeit at a glacial pace), comedy, particularly standup comedy, is still a tightly knit boys’ club. Breaking into the scene as a woman can feel like a fraternity hazing; it’s often a series of humiliations that go beyond a newbee bombing on stage. From their first open mic and well into their professional careers, female comedians face systemic sexism from audience members, bookers, agents, and of course, other male comedians.

Society has a real problem with women being funny and an even bigger problem with sexy or attractive women being funny. I’d venture to guess that it’s threatening in the way that a woman getting an education once was. Humor is a powerful social tool, and ever since women began to harness their comedic energies, there have always been individuals who seek to shame and insult them into giving up. It’s only in hearing their stories that we can begin to understand what it means to be a women in comedy, and understand how the industry and the public at large needs to extend the same respect to female comedians that they do their male counterparts.

Justine Marino (@JustineMarino) is a Los Angeles-based standup with credits that include Last Call with Carson Daly and Jenny McCarthy’s Dirty, Sexy, Funny show.

Here, Marino recalls an incident from when she opened for comedian Jim Norton:

A guy friend of mine went to the bathroom while I was on stage. They [had] the show playing in the bathroom on the speakers, and I guess some dude came in and went into the stall. As my voice was coming over the speakers he goes, "UGH! I didn’t come down here to listen to some BITCH talk." And then a minute later, ‘BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!!’ [It] made me laugh so hard, because my friend said this dude was talking to no one in particular…to the ether, essentially.

Despite Marino's ability to laugh off this incident, its implications shouldn't be overlooked. It speaks to the antiquated notion that a woman should be seen and not heard, which is at the very crux of the issue surrounding women in comedy. You almost wonder if the man in the bathroom knew it was a female comedian whose voice was being broadcast, or if he just hates women in general. Assuming he did know it was a comedian, his ability to dismiss her solely based on gender is unsettling. If it were a male comedian’s voice on the speakers, he might've critiqued the jokes, but I doubt a male comic's gender be a commensurate source of frustration.

Corinne Fisher (@PhilanthropyGal), co-host of Guys We Fucked, a widely celebrated anti-slut-shaming podcast, recounts her experience confronting an audience member face-to-face:

I talk about sex a lot in my set, and one might after a show, an audience member came up to me trying to be funny and goes, "So, you're a real slut, eh?"

Fact: Most comics talk about sex at some point during their act. But as Amy Schumer explained during her recent HBO special, "I'm labeled a sex comic. I think it's just because I'm a girl. A guy could get up here and literally pull his dick out and people would be like, 'He's a thinker!'"

In other words, no one walks up to a male comedian after a sexually charged set and says, “You’re a real man-whore, aren’t you?”

From an outsider’s perspective, it looks like this audience member may have been trying (unsuccessfully) to hit on Fisher, which isn’t uncommon—it happens to male and female comedians alike. However, his approach is indicative of the same double standard Schumer points out. When a man discusses sex, it's part of his act. When a woman does it, however, she’s sex-obsessed—or worse, a “slut.” It’s a backhanded way of shaming women into silence about their sexuality and sexual experiences.

Unwarranted advances are an all-too-common symptom of sexism within the comedy community, and male comics are some of the worst offenders. 

Gabi Conti (@ItsGabiConti), host and writer of The Elite Daily Show recounts a time when a male comic crossed the line:

Well, recently I was booked on a show in Joshua Tree that I thought was legit. But the booker clearly just booked me to try to hook up with me. We were all supposed to stay the night, but I drove home because he was making me so uncomfortable. I also applied to his festival in Arizona, and after the [Joshua Tree] trip, I got an email [saying] that my submission was denied. Turns out it wasn't even a legit festival.”

In many industries, female sexuality is commoditized, and a woman's body is considered a bartering tool for professional advancement. For men, however, their sexuality is divorced from who they are as people. A male comic rarely has to question whether he landed a gig because the booker wanted to sleep with him, or if someone laughed at his jokes for the same reason. They don’t lose out on life-changing opportunities because they rejected someone’s sexual advances. Even the few female comedians in positions of authority are still plagued by this kind of sexism.

On the flip side, male comics will turn down shows booked by a woman who has rejected them. And if a man were to sleep with a female showrunner, he wouldn't face the same stigma that a woman would for doing the same thing. No matter which way you slice it, women are getting the shorter end of the deal.

If being a woman in this industry wasn't challenging enough, being a woman of color raises a whole new set of prejudices. They have to fight just to be treated as equals.

Jenny Yang (@JennyYangTV), of BuzzFeed Video and Showtime’s Why We Laugh: Funny Women, explains: 

This white, blonde comic who peaked in high school got up at The Ha Ha [comedy club]. He noticed me as the only Asian-American in the audience and said, "Hey. You're Asian." He looked me directly in the eyes while he described how he "dated an Asian girl once," and how she was "so polite" when he was fucking her, giggling all the way. And when he reached into her vagina, he pulled out a fortune cookie. Fuck that guy.

Political correctness and comedy have a contentious relationship, but while I tend to stand on the side of comedy, I refuse to get behind what happened to Yang. If you’re going to build jokes around things like gender, race, and religion, you’re already walking a thin line—especially as a white male. Forget the fact that nothing this man said was even remotely funny; his half-baked “material” (if you can even call it that) plays into the worst stereotypes of both women and Asian people. It’s not trying to make light of an ugly situation, or bring levity to the prejudice that marginalized groups endure—it’s high school-level bullying with a microphone.

The sexist incidents that female comedians encounter are varied and countless. Every female comic has her stories, and for the sake of closure, I’d like to end on my own.

About one year ago, I was booked to headline a popular roast-style show in Los Angeles, and was matched against a guy I had briefly dated. The pairing was the the booker/host’s idea, and I had originally passed on it, but eventually warmed to the concept. If anything, it added entertainment value to what’s known as a raunchy show.

It started off ugly. The host introduced my male competitor normally, but when he introduced me, he said:

And this is Julia, she slept with one of our judges.

Yes, I had dated one of the judges on the three-person panel, but didn't realize that he was involved in the show until several days before. I figured it was no big deal, but apparently, I was wrong.

Then the show kicked off. We each delivered about 20 jokes. All of them were the type of below-the-belt one-liners the show is known for. I talked about my competitor being adopted, questioned his sexual preferences, lampooned his relationship with his current girlfriend, said he was a bad parent to his girlfriend’s kids—all of it. But every single one of his jokes was about who I had slept with, or me being a slut. He even went as far as to name my sexual partners. 

I was expecting at least several jokes like this; I had prepared for it. What I had not prepared for, however, was an entire set based on shaming and vilifying my sexuality. What’s more, the mostly male audience—a large segment of which included other comedians—seemed to take pleasure in what seemed like a witch-hunt. I didn’t feel like a female comic; instead, I felt like every woman who had ever rejected these men, and they were out for blood. Of course, he won the roast battle.

I’m not upset that I lost, but I am furious over how it went down. One small consolation was that the venue's manager reached out to me afterwards to apologize; he knew that what happened was both unfair and disgusting. I assured the manager I was fine, but also told him that this is why women struggle in the industry.

I asked him how he, as manager of a premier venue, intended to help improve the situation. But he didn’t have an answer.