PAUL PROVENZA: Margaret Cho: Beautiful was an incredibly political show that said very little about actual politics, if at all. You presented all these burlesque dancers who do not fit conventional notions of “beautiful.” You had a transvestite; you had Ian Harvie, a transgender comedian; and you had Dirty Martini, a big, female erotic dancer in a flag-themed G-string, pulling dollar bills out of her ass to Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless the U.S.A.”
These are things that are generally scorned in America, but you declared them “beautiful.” Did you intend the show to be political or subversive or socially significant?
MARGARET CHO: I think of it as socially significant. This show can make people think about what they feel inside, whatever their frustration or alienation is, and feel good about that. I think it’s really beautiful to be able to do that. It’s kind of healing work; it helps me get through life. As opposed to feeling negative about things, why not feel beautiful? I think that’s really a scary choice, but it’s backed up by the fact that the show is funny and fun and it feels good. I want people to feel good about themselves. I feel this is possible.
I’m critical of society and the way it treats women and people who are different—not even different, people who are normal, actually. Being different is the norm, that’s really the truth of it. The human experience is so varied. And if you are a woman, if you are a person of color, if you are gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, if you are a person of size, if you are a person of intelligence, if you are a person of integrity, then you are considered a minority in this world. It’s really hard for us to find messages of self-love and support anywhere. If you don’t have self-esteem, you will hesitate to do anything in your life. You will hesitate to report a rape, to vote, to defend yourself when you are discriminated against. You will hesitate to dream.
For us to have self-esteem is truly an act of revolution, and our revolution is long overdue.
PAUL PROVENZA: I think your line “People say, ‘Don’t go there.’ I live there!” sums up what you’re doing with your comedy.
MARGARET CHO: I think when you just say, “Okay, this is who I am, this is what I’m doing, this is what my journey is,” that’s really exciting. You let go of pretense and of trying to act cool and you’re just admitting to everything—and I’m guilty of everything.
PAUL PROVENZA: You “live there.”
MARGARET CHO: I live there. I’m constantly there.
PAUL PROVENZA: Have you always owned that and tried to express that, or have you evolved into it?
MARGARET CHO: I think it’s just getting older and wanting to mother people; wanting to mother myself and parent myself. I hope that when I’m long gone people will look back at what I’ve done, and they’ll be fond of it, love it, that they’ll remember me with great…affection.
I just want to love everyone. Really.
PAUL PROVENZA: Even those who oppose you?
MARGARET CHO: Yes, absolutely! That’s my favorite kind of person to love. I love to turn the other cheek. I’m so Christian sometimes.
PAUL PROVENZA: So how did you come to comedy as your creative voice?
MARGARET CHO: I did comedy because I didn’t know what else to do. I was a dropout at school. I was a terrible student. I was fucking up. I didn’t know what to do, and this was real. This was totally the right thing, and it totally made me feel good and I was so excited.
I remember when I started I was so scared of doing it that every time I had to do a show, I would question myself up and down, like “Why am I doing this to myself? I’m so fucking scared!” I was afraid of people and what they thought. I’m still afraid of it.
I’m still afraid when I get a really good run where people are really laughing and I’m just riffing. I don’t even know what I’m gonna say next, but I’m just riffing and going and they’re really laughing and laughing…That’s a really scary place to be in, because you have to keep topping yourself and keep it moving higher and higher, you know? It’s really terrifying. You have to hold that energy up there like it’s a big piece of fabric you’re trying to keep in the air. It’s a very weird experience.
PAUL PROVENZA: You want to empower people through your comedy and encourage possibilities for them, and I’ve seen people in your audience really touched by that. I would imagine they get very personal, sharing pretty intimate things with you when you talk to them.
MARGARET CHO: People are really beautiful. One woman wrote to me saying that her father had just recently died of AIDS. She had never really gotten to know him, because he had abandoned her for many years and she was alienated by him because he was gay. He really loved my comedy, so she would talk to him about me, and he was excited to talk to her about me. By the time he died, she had been able to reconnect with him through my film. That was such a beautiful moment for me. I’m really proud to be able to give that to people.
When you laugh at something, you can alleviate yourself of the pain of that situation. So humor is healing that way. Something that’s horrible, something that’s humiliating, can somehow have a kind of redemption in the telling. I want people to feel brave, that their opinions about things are being validated, that they’re being accepted. I hope I’m making a difference. I really feel I make a difference for myself. I’m really enjoying the ride; I just love it.
PAUL PROVENZA: Your portrayal of your Old World, traditional mother in your act has been a source of some conflict for you, with some Asian-Americans declaring it a racist portrayal. That must have shocked you, of all people, to be accused of that.
MARGARET CHO: Well, that’s my truth. It’s really who she is, those are the things she says, that’s the way she says them, and to me it’s always been funny.
I think to some people it sounds racist because we don’t really see that truth very often. We don’t see Asian people talking about anything, ever. It’s a very rare thing to hear us talking about our lives, or who we are, or what our families are like. It’s racist if you view it through white eyes, because you don’t know that experience.
PAUL PROVENZA: Weren’t there some Asian groups that called you out on that?
MARGARET CHO: Because it’s unflattering, maybe. It’s an unflattering view, but it’s real.
PAUL PROVENZA: Do you ever find yourself on the other side of that when you watch something and think it’s racist or it’s homophobic?
MARGARET CHO: Oh, yeah. I definitely am critical of people and of things I find racist. Like the Jena Six—just a terrible injustice and a sickness in our nation. That’s where I get puritanical on race stuff. It’s very convoluted. It’s a very complicated issue, racism.
PAUL PROVENZA: So, if I lived next door to your mother and knew her and I got up onstage and did the same impression of her as you do, would that be racist?
MARGARET CHO: I don’t think it would be racist, but it may be racist to somebody. But is it preferable for characters who have an accent to be completely invisible? Should foreign characters not be seen then? If somebody says it’s racist, it’s because they don’t want to know what’s real. They’d rather maintain this idea of invisible people. Basically, that’s what that statement is.
PAUL PROVENZA: But saying that you should portray them in a positive light is not the same as preferring them to be invisible, is it?
MARGARET CHO: It is a positive light. I think it is positive. I think I’m very positive.
PAUL PROVENZA: When you got these criticisms of racism on your part, which is the antithesis of what you’re all about, what went through your head and your heart?
MARGARET CHO: Oh, it just shows me that there is racism there, too, within the Asian community. They don’t want to see that, because they’re afraid of themselves. That conservatism is very Old World; it’s from another generation. The people who accuse me of certain things are generally of that generation. The younger generation loves me so much. They’re grateful, because they grew up with me. And that’s beautiful. But because I’m a woman, and Asian culture is gener
ally very sexist, when I “talk out of school” or whatever, that’s a problem for the older generation. It’s a weird situation.
For my parents, after all that I’ve accomplished in my life, all that I’ve done, their proudest moment was when I got married. That’s all they cared about. They were so happy that I chose a man to be with, that I settled down with a man, that a man would have me.
They don’t know how to handle the idea that I’m actually successful, so they don’t celebrate it, really; they don’t know how to. It’s very painful for me, because they just don’t get it. And it’s because of the way that Asian culture is for them.
PAUL PROVENZA: And you’ve endeared yourself to the queer community. You can do a “fag” joke, and they understand it’s just like them at a diner at three in the morning making fag jokes.
MARGARET CHO: Yeah, it’s us. It’s me. It’s because I’m a big fag.
PAUL PROVENZA: Why do you think it is that so many comedians get misinterpreted when they try to get into nuances of things like race and sexuality and gender, much like what happened to you around how you portray your mother? Lately I’ve seen really fine, thoughtful comedians try to talk about Israel and its military activities, for example, and immediately they’re accused of being anti-Semitic. Yet, the whole point of exploring the subject is to try to figure out how we can all just get along better.
MARGARET CHO: Well, the misinterpretation has to do with the fact that sometimes people are so used to being invisible that when they’re seen they don’t know what to do. They automatically freak out. So in the rare instances when it is talked about—like when I talk about Korean culture—it has to be hotly argued. Just the introduction of it is so bizarre and out of the mainstream that it shocks people. It shocks them into disagreement, into just being disgruntled.
PAUL PROVENZA: So they impose their own narrative on it, because it’s all they can do?
MARGARET CHO: Exactly.
PAUL PROVENZA: One of the things I love about the art form of comedy is that we have the freedom to say what other people can’t. I feel like if you don’t take advantage of that and confront people and say all the shit you’re not supposed to, then you’re wasting your time.
MARGARET CHO: Yeah! I think it’s great to provoke people, to make them think. I think it’s beautiful. I think what’s beautiful is Dirty Martini pulling chewed-up, digested dollar bills out of her ass—out of her beautiful, beautiful ass. It makes me want to cry.
PAUL PROVENZA: Isn’t it a strange world where if you just embrace what you believe and how you want to be, it takes you out of the mainstream? The truth is that despite this mythology of “normal, middle-class Americans,” a whole lot more people are buying fetish gear, gay porn, and hookers than most would think. So while a lot of stuff you’re doing is celebratory for you and your audience, it must cause some inner conflict or turmoil for people who aren’t able to admit to themselves who they really are. People who are in denial of things they feel but would rather not be feeling must get their worlds rocked to see it celebrated.
MARGARET CHO: Yeah, well, I hope so! It is strange that when you delve into the personal it becomes political, but the whole existence of it is political. It’s very strange. I’m Asian-American, I’m a woman, I’m queer, I’m so many different things that we don’t hear in comedy. So I feel like I’m doing something revolutionary just by existing.
PAUL PROVENZA: I think what you do is actually kind of backwards satire. Stephen Colbert, for example, embraces the point of view he wants to criticize, and, by committing to that point of view so completely, ends up mocking it. You, on the other hand, fully embrace what you really do believe, become an example of the joy in looking at the world the way you do. That, by extension, becomes a criticism of the status quo. Colbert mocks the opposing point of view; you never even engage it but instead present an alternative. That joyful, inclusive alternative mocks the opposing viewpoint by contrast rather than in conflict.
MARGARET CHO: Yes. You know what? It’s sincere.
I’m sincere. And sincerity is the new black.
RICK OVERTON
AS A DYSLEXIC kid, to avoid getting in trouble, Rick Overton cultivated his ability to make authority figures laugh. That ability grew into a truly original stand-up voice and a stunning, unique performance style—winning him an Emmy, countless film and television roles, and the respect and admiration of just about everyone in comedy. His quick, keen intelligence and fearlessness have even made him one of Robin Willams’s favorite improv partners. Having lived his life as a spiritual journey, Overton believes comedy is a way to teach some of what he’s learned—but that doesn’t mean he’s above a good boner joke, either. A self-described “imperfectionist,” Overton celebrates nonconformity, denounces the status quo, and warns us of the normal guy who mows his lawn and hides bodies in the basement.
RICK OVERTON: I consider myself to be a parody of a satirist. I think satirists take themselves way too seriously; I’m pretending to take myself seriously. I’m really very hip to myself. I’m on to me.
PAUL PROVENZA: The thing that’s always struck me about your work, and continues to, is that there are real substantive points of view and ideas in your work, but it’s also surreal, absurdist, silly, and even embraces brilliant physical comedy, too.
RICK OVERTON: And my raging boner. I try to put a boner in there for the folks that just want boner jokes, because they’re the ones that need the other satire. Rather than just give satire to people who want satire, you sneak it into the worlds of the people who don’t with things based more “lower chakra,” if you will—and I’m one of ’em. There are times I don’t want the huffy-puffy, hoity-toity stuff either, I just want a good, dirty joke.
The hardest challenge—but also the coolest thing—is to get satire to the folks that weren’t expecting it, as opposed to the ones who are.
PAUL PROVENZA: Do you get tough responses?
RICK OVERTON: Sometimes it’s real tough. Sometimes things get rough because of how good it went. When you’re challenging authority, eventually authority finds out. Not only are you challenging authority and rattling that cage, but peers will tell you you’re paranoid for pointing things out about it. So you’ll have like a double-layer thing going on: a big shark’s coming and you’re trying to pull your friend ashore, but your friend’s fighting you as you’re trying to get him ashore from the shark trying to get you and your friend.
PAUL PROVENZA: Janeane Garofalo talks about how the role of pundit was sort of thrust upon her—they kept calling to have her come in and do the wacky liberal viewpoint, and she said that she feels like they wanted her because she’s not a threat. Whereas if you bring on Noam Chomsky, you’ve got trouble on your hands.
RICK OVERTON: Yeah, and…Oops!—she still became a threat. Evil people are clever, but no evil person is intelligent. They’re just the height of cleverness. Because clever is bite to bite, moment to moment, grab to grab—not “overall picture.” You can’t afford to look at the overall picture when you’re evil, because you’ll see how fucked you are and what you’ve done. You’re just really good at grabbing, biting, running, hiding.
As a little kid, all through school I was in a special class, which is why I tell jokes now to “Jedi” my way out of trouble. I’m dyslexic, and of course ADD. I couldn’t read a book, so instead I’d read people.
To a soul, comics are all misfits. Where we didn’t fit in for reason A, we’ll make you love us for reason B. We learn people skills that no one else gets.
PAUL PROVENZA: Do you get accused of being elitist in a way? That you’re basically saying, “You’re all stupid”?
RICK OVERTON: I’m facing elitism this way. I think out of the box because I was never invited in the box, so outside the box is the only territory I know. I say, “a ‘misfit’ is a part made better than the machine it’s installed in,” because that’s how it appears to me. To me, this isn’t elitism.
Who is it thinking me elitist? One of th
e guys I’ve bagged on? Of course they’ll say I’m elitist; they don’t want to hear any truth in what I’ve said about them. They’ll go to great lengths to put it back on me.
Hey, not all the turtles make it to the ocean. A lot of ’em just push sand, or birds get ’em or whatever. I don’t wanna sound elitist, but…someone will call you elitist whenever you tell the truth, and otherwise I’m sitting here with, “Should I say that? Wait, am I afraid of being called elitist?” We’re out of fuckin’ time. Just say it. Everyone just start saying what you mean. Back and forth, faster, faster! Let’s get going!
PAUL PROVENZA: Do you feel like you have a mission to communicate these things, or is it just that you want to?
RICK OVERTON: I want to say it, and if people learn, that’s good. And if people have things to teach me, great! I’ll shut up and listen. My manhood isn’t based on, “I have to be right about everything I say over you.” I don’t need that; it means nothing to me. I love not knowing stuff and then learning it.
PAUL PROVENZA: What do you think of all these issues about language?
RICK OVERTON: The new C-word is “Constitution.” Look, there’s the upper level of politically correct and the lower level of politically correct. Racists have picked up the trick now of using “Hey, you’re censoring me,” when they do things that are actually harmful. They just imitate, because they learned to imitate. And now they go, “Hey don’t censor me, man! I want to say ‘nigger,’ ‘kike,’ and ‘spic.’ Why don’t I get to say that?” Well, there’s a different history to you. It means something different when you do it.
PAUL PROVENZA: Since the Michael Richards thing, a good half of any audience understands the irony of saying the word on a nightclub stage now. And it’s a really interesting dynamic.
RICK OVERTON: Right. Sometimes it takes some gigantic horrible event, and Michael’s not a racist as much as he is a rage-ist. If it was an Asian guy or a Hispanic up there, it’d be a whole different bit. He was just trying to push boundaries, but he didn’t get that we’re not in Andy Kaufman mode anymore and we don’t have Irony 8.6 installed. We don’t hear whole sentences, and we assemble our own sentences with three or four words out of the entire paragraph that you said and we make something we can be mad at out of it.
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