NEXT Magazine:  Punch Lines & Prejudice

Where are funny gay men in professional comedy? Heterosexual men have dominated the field for ages. Straight women from Phyllis Diller to Sarah Silverman have landed big audiences. Lesbians like Ellen DeGeneres and Wanda Sykes have achieved significant comedic success and mainstream acceptance. However, queer men struggle for audiences and industry acknowledgement. Even renowned gay male comics often aren’t most famous for stand-up. For example, Bob Smith receives more attention for his books than his comedy, and Scott Thompson is for “The Kids in the Hall” more than for his solo humor. 

Why is comedy success so elusive for gay men, who are often noted for their searing sense of humor? Often, prejudice is the culprit. Not only must queer male comedians be funny, but they also face a unique mix of bigotry and indifference. They deal with hateful homophobia from heterosexuals, surprising apathy from gay men and general rejection from the humor industry. These negative attitudes make queer male comics’ struggles for achievement especially challenging. To better understand these unique struggles, we chatted with a cross-section of New York’s gay stand-up comedians to get their insight on homophobia in the comedy world.

While obnoxious hecklers occasionally bother all comedians, some enjoy taunting gay humorists with nasty anti-gay insults. Indian comedian Vidur Kapur has experienced such homophobia not just in real life but also online. “I’ve received various slurs posted to my YouTube videos,” Kapur says. “People have written, ‘Kill the faggot,’ ‘You’re a shame on all Indians’, and other attacks. Also, once an audience member heckled me as a ‘hijra’—eunuch or castrated men who dance at Indian weddings. And after another show, an uneducated Indian guy addressed me as a woman to ridicule me. Such attitudes are hard to face, but they reinforce why it’s important to be out wherever I perform.” 

Other comedians can also be homophobic. Entertainers may get stereotyped as liberals, but they aren’t strangers to bigotry. Actually, prejudiced comments have often been aired openly in the envelope-pushing humor world, where jokes get judged on laughs more than political correctness. Celebrity comics like Andrew Dice Clay and Eddie Murphy built their careers partially on anti-gay routines. And while professional homophobia is less tolerated today, it isn’t unheard of (remember the endless Brokeback jokes on late-night TV?). 

Comic Shawn Hollenbach has experienced bigotry from colleagues. “I remember one show when a female stand-up talked about her hairstyle,” Hollenbach says. “I followed up her comment by saying, ‘Your hairstyle is uninspired’…and someone shouted, ‘Faggot!’ I recognized the voice as that of an unfunny comedian who was there, and called him on it after the show. He insisted that he didn’t say the slur, and then tried to convince me that he hadn’t been talking about me. I lost what respect I had for him after that.” 

Homophobic reactions aren’t always limited to one person. Entire audiences can project anti-gay attitude even though general society has grown more progressive. Gerard Mignone has performed for such a homophobic crowd. “I once did a gig in a conservative area of Queens,” Mignone says. “The silent reaction I received made it obvious that no one wanted to listen to a gay comedian. The only person laughing was the person who booked me. That’s the closest I’ve come to performing in a stereotypical red state, but I consider it a character-building experience!” 

And heterosexuals aren’t the only ones hampering funny gay male performers. Other homosexual men surprisingly ignore queer male stand-ups. Think how many funny females resonate deeply with gay men, from Joan Rivers to Chelsea Handler. Next, ponder how many drag queens gays celebrate, from Lady Bunny to Ongina. Finally, name male comedians who receive similar respect from homosexual men. That list is noticeably shorter. 

Sex may explain gay men’s disconnect with their own comics. Men generally seem visually oriented, so their attention may go to male comedians’ looks first and jokes second. Adam Sank relates to this sex-comedy conflict. “When I first did stand-up at a gay show, I felt like they hated me since my jokes got little reaction,” Sank says. “I talked about this with my then-therapist. He asked what I wore onstage, and I told him jeans and a tight T-shirt. He suggested I wear baggy clothes because maybe the crowd saw me sexually without listening to me. I was dubious, but wore a baggy button-down shirt for my next gay performance. Surprisingly, the audience connected much more with my jokes, and I realized that gay men separate their sex and comedy.” 

No matter why queer men dismiss their own stand-ups, it equals a dire lack of attention. Gay people enjoy increased social acceptance but haven’t achieved true equality. And just as medieval jesters brought uncomfortable truths to light with humor, queer male comedians can reveal community struggles—if they get heard. 

Dave Rubin, whose taken his humor to internet radio on  The Six Pack, believes homosexual male humorists can raise issues. “Gays somehow have been trained to only laugh at old women and drag queens,” Rubin says. “It’s 2010 and the biggest show on Logo is a drag contest. I’ve got nothing against drag queens, but there are plenty of other stories that need to be told.” Rubin points to comics from other traditionally oppressed groups for guidance, saying, “Black comedy can show how gay comedy should evolve. Richard Pryor, Bill Cosby, Eddie Murphy, Chris Rock [and] Dave Chappelle all spoke about their unique experiences and hit people in hugely different ways. Gay comics and our audiences both have to do better. We’re one of the last unequal groups in America. I do think we’re getting better, though.” 

One reason this might be a challenge is the humor industry itself. Many comedy clubs provide queer comics with significantly fewer bookings and less promotion than mainstream performers. Some venues ghettoize homosexual male stand-ups in gay-specific shows not advertised to general audiences. Similarly, some comedy clubs book limited numbers of queer male performers, then tell other gay male joke tellers that they can’t book others because they “already have a gay man on the bill” as if queer performers are interchangeable. And some clubs don’t feature gay male stand-ups at all. 

Comic Scott Ryan has experienced comedy club discrimination. “I feel it’s very hard for openly gay comics to get ‘passed,’ or put on a club’s call list for paid spots in shows,” Ryan says. “I have had callback auditions for Last Comic Standing, beennominated as a “Brink of Fame Comic” by Logo and have been featured on HERE! tv’s Hot Gay Comics. However, I’m still not passed in any major mainstream clubs. It’s disheartening to only get booked for gay shows when I know straight crowds love me, also. I’d like the opportunity to show club owners that I can appeal to various audiences!” 

Such exclusion of homosexual male stand-ups in comedy clubs may stem from pure homophobia. It also may develop from a self-fulfilling prophecy that audiences won’t follow funny gay men, leading to them not receiving bookings—and thereby limiting their ability to build followings. 

However, stand-ups like Brad Loekle, host of therapy’s Electro Shock Therapy Comedy Hour, do find fans when they get to perform. Loekle sees more openness from the average person than many comedy clubs. “Working as a comic commentator for TruTV’s The Smoking Gun Presents brings me all types of fans,” Loekle says. “I receive positive e-mails from blue-collar Christians who’ve never met a gay person and young gay people because being on TV makes me seem like family. I see more prejudice and ‘Old World’ thinking in clubs. Comedy shows often seem segregated to me, with nights for gay, women, black or Latino comics as a novelty—especially since these venues don’t necessarily feature such performers regularly. I think our culture is ahead of the clubs and is ready for more diverse comedy bills.” 

Why do gay male comics persevere with such prejudice? And why do more new faces pop up on the circuit each year? Basically, their passion for humor triumphs all. Dedicated comedians focus on generating laughter. Those lacking this drive don’t last. The obstacles gay comedians face definitely provide extra discouragement. However, they refuse to let the adversities win. 

For comedian Michael Keren its part of his identity. “Being a comedian is very important to me. I list it first when describing myself—ahead of important descriptions like gay, Jewish, formerly obese, psychologist and partnered. It’s how I handle emotions, opinions and people. It doesn’t pay my bills yet, but…comedy has changed my life.” 

The issues threatening gay male stand-ups may make hiding in the closet or a gay caricature seem safer. However, such dishonesty stunts creativity and connection. Real humor stems from honestly relating with others about genuine experiences, and this is impossible when constantly guarding oneself. 

Eddie Sarfaty, author of  Mental: Funny in the Head, follows this philosophy: “I’ve never denied or ignored my sexuality in my act. I represent myself as a real, well-rounded gay person. I definitely never closet myself or act like a stereotype—even supposedly socially acceptable ones like Will & Grace’s Jack. If you try to be a type, all you’ll ever be is a version of someone else. Let yourself be shaped by your experiences on and offstage and you’ll be more unique.”    N

Visit ShawnHollenbach.com, VidurKapur.com, BenLerman.net, BradLoekle.com, ScottRyanIsFunny.com, Rubinville.com (Dave Rubin), AdamSank.com and KeepLaughing.com (Eddie Sarfaty) for more info on the comics in this article.