Why I Hate The Word 'Comedienne'

It’s only a word, it’s only a little thing. But since you can only eat an elephant in small bites (as the saying goes), let’s take things one mouthful at a time.

And one of the little things that gets my goat is the use of the word ‘comedienne’ to describe a woman who makes people laugh. It implies that the originally male word ‘comedian’ is superior, and therefore anything else is a poor substitute. It implies a sense of otherness with a female comedian, a sense of second best, it gives a hint of frailty, and suggests that a woman telling jokes is somehow different to a man telling jokes. Which is balls.

I run an all-female comedy night called What The Frock! Comedy. Not because I want to be mean and exclude all the boy comedians from the fun, but because for so long most of the women comedians have been excluded from the comedy circuit (on average, only 4% of all acts booked on comedy nights in the UK will be female. It’s 2013!).

Because I make this deliberate gender distinction in my booking policy, I inevitably spend a lot of time reading cuttings about my acts that refers to them as ‘comediennes’. Now don’t get me wrong – I am DELIGHTED when anybody writes anything about my events, I am over the frickin’ moon. But, given the opportunity, I do find myself saying to journalists who contact me: “I don’t want to be annoying, and I’m not going to ask to approve the copy… but please call the acts ‘comedians’ and not ‘comediennes’. It’s about what comes out of their gob, not what their gob looks like.” On the whole, they listen.

But last week the word seemed to come up a lot. Maybe that was because What The Frock! put on a big show that generated a lot of press – in print, on radio and on the telly box. Wooh! But in every instance, at some point the acts were called ‘comediennes’. Even by female journalists (journalistas?).

But why? You don’t get the same gender distinction in a lot of other professions. You don’t get male dentists and female dentistas; you don’t get male lawyers and female lawyerettes; you don’t get male accountants and female sumsticians. For one thing, they’re all really ugly words. For another thing, they’re all really stupid words. And for a third thing, they’re all made-up words. Just like ‘comedienne’.

Every single one of the 100+ acts I’ve worked with to date refers to herself as a ‘comedian’. Some make a point of saying they actively distance themselves from the word ‘comedienne’, while others say they don’t like the word but they’d rather somebody wrote something about them than nothing at all.

Which leads me to say that the language used to describe female acts also baffles me sometimes. For instance, we had Lucy Porter on last week, who was variously described in the local press as “sweet voiced”, “a familiar funny maker” and “sweetly demeanored”, while previously Tiffany Stevenson was said to provide “amiable and chatty banter”. All phrases to imply maternal hugs or bland giggles. There’s an interview with Bridget Christie in the current issue of Vogue with the headline “Pretty Funny” (not only would that headline never go with a piece about a male comedian, but it also implies that Bridget’s appearance is somehow relevant, and that it is surprising that she should be amusing. Being a laydee and that).

I know there are bigger things to worry about, but when we are still giving the same job different words depending on the gender of the person doing it, we still need to think about how much further we have to go in the equality battle.

Women typically get short shrift in the comedy industry – thanks to venues that will only book a maximum of one woman a night, panel shows that ignore them altogether, and stadium tours populated almost exclusively by the boys. And don’t get me started on how few female comedians are able to put out comedy DVDs.

And if people keep on calling them ‘comediennes’ rather than ’comedians’, things aren’t going to change any time soon. I’m not for a second implying this is the only problem women face in the comedy industry, far from it. But the nuances implied by a distinctively lesser word, one that is feminine and dainty in its sound and appearance, suggest that a gurl comedian is going to be a disappointment. When, frankly, that’s just poppycock.

Here’s a top ten of my favourite comedians right this minute. What do they all have in common? (Clue – none of them are shit, none of them are dainty):

• Aisling Bea
• Amy Poehler
• Bridget Christie
• Jayde Adams
• Jennifer Saunders
• Katherine Ryan
• Luisa Omielan
• Sara Pascoe
• Tina Fey
• Vikki Stone

Jennifer Saunders, 'Bonkers'

While Bonkers is certainly not a warts’n’all book, Jennifer Saunders’ autobiography is a gripping and compulsive read, with Jennifer’s distinctive voice almost reading it aloud in your head – such is the strength of her character on the pages.

While we read about her relationship with lifelong comedy partner Dawn French, working with the legendary Comic Strip team, and her love for Joanna Lumley, we learn little about her experiences as a wife, mother or friend. But that’s hardly surprising as Jennifer has always been a woman who appears to have struggled with the concept of finding herself a celebrity.

At the Cheltenham Literature Festival this year, Jennifer talked so engagingly with Kirsty Young about some of the stories in Bonkers, and it was a joy to hear her chatting on stage. But the sense of keeping everything close to her chest remained. And while you love every second you spend reading Bonkers and hearing her talk about her life, you also come away feeling like you haven’t really learned very much about her. Which is surely what she wants!

But what shines through is a hilarious woman, who is living a life she loves. She’s a woman who loves her family, her animals and her friends. And the fact she comes across as a genuinely good egg is reinforced by the fact she has one of the longest marriages in showbiz, and her friendships have all endured through the decades.

"I Laughed, I Cried" - Viv Groskop

There is nothing worse than regret. The ‘if only’ feeling that haunts you when you realise it’s too late to put in the years of grit and determination needed to make your lifelong dream come true… or even find out if you’re any good at it. Regret sucks.

The old cliché goes: ‘You can only regret the things you haven’t done’. So jumping on the back of this, wife, mum and journalist Viv Groskop decided that with her fortieth birthday knocking on the door, it was time she put her money where her mouth was to find out if she really was any good at this stand-up comedy business. Or if she was just wasting her time.

And so begins Viv’s mammoth quest to perform 100 comedy shows in 100 days. Despite having three young kids at home (including a baby who was barely one), a long-suffering but patient husband, and a very busy career as a freelance journalist for most of the UK’s bigger newspapers and magazines.

I Laughed, I Cried documents – sometimes hilariously, sometimes painfully (this book delivers what it promises) – Viv’s progress gig by gig, gag by gag, glug (of Diet Coke) by glug.

Part diary, part memoir, part self-help book for aspiring comedians, I Laughed, I Cried is a no-holds-barred expose of Viv’s 100 days. We meet the best and the worst of the amateur comedy circuit with her – from the award-winning clown-comic Dr Brown who likes to take his clothes off, to the misery of the shared car journey to an out-of-London unpaid gig. Through all of this we root for Viv, and we want her to succeed. It’s to her advantage that she doesn’t try to disguise the fact that her quest involves performing night and after night in smelly hot clubs meaning she sweats into her only sequined cardie, and eats a lot of bad fast food, or runs up an exorbitantly high bar tab on watered down soft drinks.

The ‘quest book’ format is a well-tested market. The Danny Wallaces, Dave Gormans and Tony Hawks of the comedy world have all trodden the ground in recent years and sold a zillion books and built careers off it. It’s nice to finally see a woman dipping her sequined toe into the market – and it feels right that Viv should be the one to do it.

Her honest and funny writing, and shameless style, meant that I sped through I Laughed, I Cried in only two sittings – absorbed in the ups and down of Viv’s mission, and drawn in by the journalistic inclusion of various quotes and facts from established comedians on the circuit. This book makes you want to be Viv’s friend – even if that means being dragged along as her ‘bring a mate’ to a dingy club that smells of sewage (I refer you to gig four).

Viv Groksop will return to Bristol on July 3 with a preview of her Edinburgh solo show about I Laughed, I Cried atWatershed at 6.15pm. Tickets are £7/£6. This special event is co-hosted by What The Frock! and Bristol Festival of Ideas. After the show, Viv will be signing copies of the book – published by Orion on June 27.

Please don't take advantage of small businesses

The chances are that you wouldn’t even think about taking advantage of a big business like Ticketmaster or Odeon (however much you may want to)… so why do some people insist on trying it on with what is obviously a very small, independent, non-profit-making business? One that’s run as a labour of love?

I run What The Frock! Comedy, which is a tiny, one-person enterprise that promotes women comedians. My business currently relies on a great deal of generosity and people volunteering their time and skills in order to exist. And one of the most amazing things in the 18 months or so since I started What The Frock! has been seeing how willing people are to donate their time and talent. They tell me they do it because they firmly believe that What The Frock! is a strong proposition, and one day it will be a big success. And I love them for it!

But I’ve noticed a baffling trend, especially in recent months, of ill-natured people wanting to take advantage of a tiny business. In ways that you wouldn’t even bother to try with an established business. For instance…

THE HAGGLERS

One woman arrived to buy a ticket on the door. The door price was £12, which was widely advertised. She expressed horror and said she couldn’t possibly afford it as she was on all kind of benefits… Although she’d already let slip that she’d driven over from her home in posh Clifton, and that she was going to the Tobacco Factory Theatre later. She wheedled and wheedled, and in the end I offered her a ticket for £6… only to be told that she had nothing smaller than a £10 note, meaning I let her in for £5 (as I was short of change). 

Seriously – would you try that in The Hippodrome? No. You would just accept that theatre is a luxury and if you can’t afford it, you can’t go.

THE KILLJOYS

Two women once demanded a refund after an open mic act because they didn’t find her funny. (Comedy, of course, is a matter of personal taste.) I politely explained that, along with every other events business in existence, we don’t offer refunds or exchanges, and suggested they stay a bit longer to see the main acts, who have more experience. They declined. I explained that What The Frock! exists to help nurture up and coming female comedians, who are denied a platform by most other clubs. And I also explained that our ticket prices are among the lowest in the city. They became rude. So I paid them off to be shot of them, which is of course why they became rude. 

But would you ask for your money back from the cinema if you didn’t like the first 20 minutes of a film? No. You’d just shrug your shoulders and accept you tried something and didn’t like it.

THE CHANGE OF MIND

One woman arrived at the door with two tickets that she had bought in advance. She said that her friend wasn’t feeling well, so could they both have a refund as she didn’t want to come in anymore. 

No. You wouldn’t buy tickets to the Hippodrome and then ask for a refund because you didn’t feel well on the day of the show. You’d just accept that this happens sometimes.

THE PENNY PINCHERS

"£8 for a ticket! Daylight robbery! You must be raking it in, you greedy cow!" This has actually been said to me. And words to that effect. Several times. And clearly by people who have never put an event on, or realise the expense that goes into it. 

That £8 ticket price goes towards: paying the acts (between four and six per show), sometimes putting acts up in (cheap) hotels, public liability insurance, venue hire, designing posters and flyers, printing posters and flyers, marketing, printing tickets, distributing tickets, website hosting, business telephone costs, petrol costs to get to gigs... and a million other boring things.

Am I raking it in? Err, not at £8 a ticket I'm not, no. Which is why tickets are going up to £10 in June. Sorry about that. But we'll still be cheaper than pretty much every other comedy night in Bristol.

THE 50p FRETTERS

On two occasions, I’ve had tickets bought in advance from people who I’ve noticed live around the corner from me. So I’ve hand delivered their tickets within 30 minutes of them being ordered. Only to come home to an email asking for their 50p postage fee back. Which I returned, although I also sent polite emails explaining that the 50p postage fee doesn’t even come close to covering the combined costs of PayPal, ticket printing, admin etc.

Would you haggle with Ticketmaster over their booking fee (which is close to £5)? No, because they're so big you can't get hold of them. And they'd never hand deliver your tickets within 30 minutes of you booking them anyway!

THE SOMETHING FOR NOTHINGS

Someone filled in our recent feedback survey and, when asked if they thought the current ticket price of £8 was reasonable, they said: “I don’t have to pay as I’m a club member, so I get in for free. Wahey!” That’s true, Square Club members do get in for free – but I don’t get any money from them being a club member, and by coming in for free they mean I’m unable to sell a ticket to someone who would pay, meaning that I'm automatically £10 down. 

On the other hand, there are one or two Square Club members who have chosen to pay because they recognise I’m a small business, they like what I'm doing and want it to succeed. Those people are fab (and they know who they are) because, without anything being said, they recognise that I can't afford to let people in for free.

And so it goes on. These are just a handful of recent examples of the way a small minority of people try to rip off a new business. I could give you more.

HERE’S WHY I CAN’T AFFORD FOR PEOPLE TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MY BUSINESS…

What The Frock! ticket prices are among the lowest for comedy in Bristol, especially for a line-up of between four and six comedians a night. While the more established comedians get paid (as they should do), they are the only ones who do. 

My friend who works on the door doesn’t get paid; my friend who takes the photos doesn’t get paid; my graphic designer didn’t get paid for a year and now works for peanuts; my website designer doesn’t get paid; my accountant doesn’t get paid; and many more people who happily offer their time don't get paid…

I also don’t get paid and I work seven days a week, often way past midnight, to make What The Frock! happen. And I do that because I have no other job to pay my bills (having lost my job in November), and because I fervently believe in the importance of what I’m doing. But I’m well aware that I’m only afforded the luxury of TRYING to make What The Frock! work because my husband has a job.

That said, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t believe that one day What The Frock! has the potential to be a strong independent business. And when that day comes, the first thing I will do is find some way to repay the fabulous people who have donated time and talent to help me get there. The people like Gaby, Emily, Kellie-Jay, Hannah, Paul, Paul (another one)… and a whole chorus of other superstars.

NB: I should stress that it’s only a very tiny percentage of audience members who’ve taken advantage (or tried to) of my small business. The vast majority of my audience members are lovely, loyal, friendly and supportive people – many of whom come to almost every show, many of whom send me appreciative messages afterwards, many of whom realise how much hard work goes into doing what I do and even thank me for doing it. And if it wasn’t for brilliant people like them, I wouldn’t keep doing this. To those people, I take my hat off.

WOW, what a weekend!

As I write this on a freezing Tuesday morning, I’m still basking in the toasty afterglow of a fabulously feminist few days.

On Saturday morning, I was up with the fairies to catch the Megatrain to London, where I spent a zinging weekend at the Women Of the World Festival (WOW) at the Southbank Centre. On the train up I was reading a review copy of the forthcoming Virago anthology Fifty Shades of Feminism, which had only arrived the day before, and in the evening I watched Made In Dagenham in my mini B&B room. I was Not Doing Feminism By Halves. No, siree.

Being at WOW was a wonderful experience. 2013 marked the third WOW festival but the first that I’d attended, and my reason for going was that the women’s comedy event I run, WhatThe Frock! Comedy, had been invited to put on a show in the Royal Festival Hall’s ballroom on the Sunday afternoon. That wasn’t an opportunity I was going to say ‘no’ to. Putting on a show (only our sixth ever) to 500+ people in the UK’s biggest arts centre? Err, yes please.

I headed up a day early to make the most of the festival and to see as much as possible. I lived in London for most of my 20s and still feel very fond of the place, so it’s always nice to have an excuse to go back. The Southbank Centre was somewhere I spent a lot of time in my London years as I both lived and worked nearby, plus I love the heritage of the place and the reasons why it was created in the first place.

To see the buildings (Royal Festival Hall and Queen Elizabeth Hall) filled to the rafters with women-friendly stalls and events promoting women in business, women in comedy, women in fashion, women in charities… was brilliant. The buzz in the whole centre was electric, and the atmosphere was nothing but warm, welcoming and inclusive.

I saw several talks over the two days, but with up to 10 events happening simultaneously, I inevitably also missed a great deal. But I did catch a brilliant session celebrating women who don’t have children (whether by choice or by circumstance); debating the outcome of the Levenson Report into how the media continues to view women; the brilliance of Jane Austen. I saw Ruby Wax’s soloshow Losing It, in which she talks frankly and hilariously about her very real mental breakdown and ongoing problems with depression. And it was great to finally see Michael Kaufman talk, having interviewed him a few years previously for his book A Guy’s Guide To Feminism – and he didn’t disappoint.

All three pictures, copyright Southbank Centre

Of course, my main focus was putting on the What The Frock! Comedy show on the Sunday afternoon. With a one-hour timeslot, I’d booked Rosie Wilby as MC, and Shazia Mirza and Danielle Ward for 20-minute slots. It seemed a tough call – the ballroom turned out to be not a ‘room’ but a huge sunken space within the main foyer, meaning there was a lot of background noise and distractions. But it also meant that as well as filling our 500 seats, we gained about 200 extra audience members who were standing around the edges, sitting on the floor at the front, and pulling up chairs to peer over the balcony to watch. It was fabulous. And where else was I going to put on a show where our ‘warm-up act’ was Woman’s Hour’s Jenni Murray (who had done a piece on What The Frock! earlier in the week), and where we were succeeded by Sandi Toksvig?

The tweets and messages I’ve since received from people in the audience, who previously didn’t know about What The Frock! but who had a wonderful time, and who also discovered one or two comedians they didn’t previously know, has made it all so worthwhile. Putting on any show is never a piece of cake – there are contracts to sign, money to be negotiated, publicity to garner, and inevitably technical hitches on the day. But the buzz of the day and the resulting feedback is what always makes it worthwhile. Even as I sat squashed into an uncomfortable corner of a bumpy coach for three hours going home, I was still basking in the glow of a weekend where the women deservedly won.

So, thank you to everyone at WOW and the Royal Festival Hall for inviting What The Frock! along and for taking a punt on an up and coming comedy event. I had a ball, and whether or not What The Frock! comes back for WOW 2014, I’ll certainly be there, come hell or high water.

The Stand-Up Intuitive Show

Who says stand-up can only involve a person standing with a mic at the front of a room telling jokes? If that’s you, stop being so conservative and check out Becky Walsh – a well-established and brilliant Bristol-based psychic, intuitionist and stand-up.

I went over to The Square Club on Bristol’s Berkeley Square last night to check out Becky’s show, and got much more than a few laughs. Interspersed with a few stand-up spots inspired by comments from the audience, Becky led several readings of audience members… including me!

But as Becky said at the top of the show, while audience involvement is a big part of The Stand-Up Intuitive Show, it’s about laughing with people and not at them. And I don’t think anyone in the Square Club’s Lounge Bar felt otherwise. The atmosphere was warm, friendly and inclusive, and the message was very much that you could be involved if you wanted, or simply sit back and observe if you preferred. But most people wanted to be included…

Becky has a range of methods for engaging the audience, from reading a personal item of theirs (such as a pair of glasses, or piece of jewellery, to read the vibrations of a person she doesn’t previously know), or inviting someone to rip up an egg box so that she can read their personality from the way they tear up the cardboard. Not to mention reading the particular flower someone picks from a posy, or using random (or are they?) song lyrics to answer an audience member’s specific question.

This was certainly a fun evening and one I’d love to repeat. Because with an intuitive show, it is all about the audience and what they bring to the venue with them that evening. Becky starts the show with no idea of what questions she’ll be asked, or how events will unfold, which means you’re guaranteed a new experience every single time.

Becky Walsh appears at The Square Club on the first Sunday of every month. Visit her website for details of her other events around Bristol and the UK, and to find out about the books she’s written.

In which sexism in comedy is mansplained

There’s a lone voice in the crusade to end these beastly women-only comedy nights. And that voice belongs to Sean Ruttledge – a man who, according to his 'official blog' (not that I could find an unofficial one), is “the man of over 9000 voices”. But there’s only one voice coming through loud and clear on his blog, and that is the one saying he knows best and women must be told (especially the ugly ones).

Sean has spent a lot of time and energy on his campaign to put a stop to women-only comedy nights – although why the issue threatens him so much remains unclear. Though he does seem to have made a habit of living his life online, and having a record for the most number of accounts blocked from YouTube (at least 110).

I’ll agree with one of Sean’s points: namely, the absence of women in comedy is a topic that has been discussed to death. See this, and this, and this, and this, and you get the idea…

Sean is so sick of talking about it that he’s written a bog post, stating his views on the situation. He’s called the post: “’Sexism’ in comedy, those poor downtrodden lady comics: The sad plight of female comedians”. I think it’s clear where he’s pitching his stall. But let’s read on because Sean is a comedian by trade and his post is nothing if not entertaining.

In it he says: 

'Self-victimise'. Isn't that another way of saying 'victim blaming'? Regardless, what would Sean expect from 'manipulative' women folk, albeit ones who he acknowledges might be more 'political' then teh menz? Which, hang on, surely suggests women are better informed of social and economical injustices?

Sean goes on to say that he thinks sexism in the comedy industry is indeed rife. But it’s not the men who are being sexist. Nope! It’s the bloody women, with their man-hating women-only gigs who are the sexist ones. (I doubt Sean’s stopped to consider that maybe the women-only gigs were created as a result of the difficulty for women to get bookings, regardless of talent or, obviously, looks – an issue he goes on to discuss later in his post. Yes, really, that's how serious he is.)

Explaining why it is the women (sorry, ‘lady comediennes’ in Sean’s language) who are the sexist ones in the comedy world, Sean says:

Wow! Those are some strong claims in there. Firstly, while it’s true there are a handful of women-only comedy clubs (as in women-only performers, but anyone is welcome in the audience), does Sean realise that – even if they don’t label themselves as such – many of the comedy clubs in the UK are male-only comedy clubs (eg: 60% of the clubs listed in my previous post have exclusively men on their bills tonight - September 28).

Where Sean’s already-weak argument really falls apart is when he starts to discredit various female comedians because of their appearance. Under a photo of Sarah Millican’s DVD, he has inexplicably inserted the caption: “Jo Brand, funny but you wouldn’t shag her”. 

Under a photo of Kate Smurthwaite reads the offensive caption: “Smurthwaite, ‘really pretty’”, implying Sean believes the opposite. But then, Kate is a person about whom Sean has written the following:

From this, aside from the unnecessary rudeness about Kate, we can learn that as well as not liking female-only comedy events, Sean's own leanings are towards right-wing politics, men's rights and he's definitely anti-choice. 

In the meantime, I look forward to hearing from Bristol City Council, who Sean intends to report me to for the crime of holding an event that only promotes women comedians. 

PS: You don't know what mansplaining is? Click here. 

Stop the ‘gender apartheid’ of women-only comedy nights!

From a march demonstrating against ACTUAL gender apartheid

When I began organising comedy nights by women comedians in January, I anticipated a slew of ‘what about teh menz?’ moaning from the type of men who enjoy diminishing the work of women. This is because after several years as a feminist activist, I’ve grown used to hearing the same arguments about how downtrodden men are and why aren’t feminists campaigning about that?

However, regarding the comedy nights, I received only one comment from one man suggesting that perhaps it was ‘patronising’ to put on a comedy night featuring women comedians. He is entitled to his opinion, but because the other 99% of the women and men who were aware of the event were 100% supportive, enthusiastic and bought tickets in droves, I decided to push on and launch What The Frock! anyway.

And launch it did, with a sold-out event in May. It’s become such a success that What The Frock! is going monthly from January, and almost every day I get requests from people (even, gasp, men) to bring What The Frock! to their city.

TNT Comedy (above) is connected to Sean Ruttledge, who performs at some of their gigs and promotes some of their gigs online. After I blocked TNT Comedy, Sean started tweeting me from another account (below), although denies he is the same person.

That said, in the last few days, there’s been a lone internet crusader (see screengrabs above) who is banging the gong about the ‘gender apartheid’, ‘sexism’ and ‘misandry’ of What The Frock!, because it is only promoting women comedians. His main bone of contention seems to be that there are, in name, no comedy nights featuring only male comedians. (NB: You may need to read that sentence again to be sure you read it right.) OK? Now, please read on for the hard-to-argue-with stats (although I’m sure one or two will try).

Here come the stats...

Now, I’m going to do a little test. I’m going to randomly search for 10 listings for comedy clubs around the UK who have events on tonight (Friday, September 28) to see who they’ve got on, and see what kind of gender balance there is. I will search for one club in 10 UK cities. To avoid accusations of fixing the answers, I will go to Google and type in ‘[city name] comedy club’, then go to the website of the first listed club with an event on today. The results are alphabetical by city.

• Birmingham, The Glee Club
• Mark Nelson, Ivo Graham, Ben Norris and Karen Bayley
• Men - 3
• Women - 1

• Bristol, The Comedy Box
• Lloyd Langford, Celia Pacquola and John Robins
• Men - 2
• Women - 1

• Cardiff, The Glee Club
• Craig Hill, Mark Olver, Caimh McDonnell and Marlon Davis
• Men - 4
• Women - 0

• Glasgow, The Stand Club
• Brendan Dempsey, Steffen Peddie, Eddie Hoo, Owen McGuire and Susan Calman
• Men - 4
• Women - 1

• Leeds, The Highlight
• Anthony King, Quincy, David Whitney, Fergus Craig and Red Redmond
• Men - 5
• Women - 0

• Leicester, Just The Tonic
• Ian Cognito, Lloyd Griffith, George Ryegold and Jim Smallman
• Men - 4
• Women - 0

• London: The Comedy Store
• Mick Ferry, Jeff Innocent, Ian Stone, Tom Stade and Paul Sinha
• Men - 5
• Women - 0

• Manchester: The Comedy Store
• John Moloney, Markus Birdman, Mark Maier, John Lynn and Andrew Ryan
• Men - 5
• Women - 0

• Nottingham is in the middle of the Nottingham Comedy Festival
• Today they have: Dave Fulton, Elis James, Maff Brown and John Hastings at one event. Simon Bligh, Steve Shanyaski, David Hadingham and Andrew Stanley at a second event. A third event is a one-person show by Sally-Anne Hayward
• Men - 8
• Women - 1

• Portsmouth, Jongleurs 
• Ryan McDonnell, Paul Garvey, Bryan Lacey and Daliso Chaponda
• Men - 4
• Women - 0

So, of that straw poll from 10 randomly selected clubs, there are a total of 48 comedians performing. 

Of those 48 comedians, 44 are men and four are women. 

Of those 10 clubs, six have zero women on the bill at all, and the four that do have women on the bill have just one woman each (alongside a proportionally greater number of male comedians). 

In only one instance is a woman headlining (Sally-Anne Hayward), and that is because she is doing a one-person show!

So, dear doubters and hard-done-by men, tell me again that there are no men-only comedy clubs in the UK. 

And tell me again that it is ‘sexist’ to have brands such as Funny Women, Laughing Cows, What TheFrock! etc that promote women comedians. 

And please try harder to make your arguments for ‘misandry’ stand up straight. Because based on the solid figures above, your arguments are as limp as (skips over obvious analogy), err, bizkits.

Please note: the term ‘gender apartheid’ used in this context (eg this article) is extremely offensive considering the term's actual meaning. That is the economic and social sexual discrimination of women in the non-Western world, including the practices of legally killing adulterous wives in Syria and Haiti, wife beating in Nigeria, and legal kidnapping and marriage of women in Guatemala and Lebanon. So please think more carefully before misusing such an emotive term.

Perhaps those who throw the term ‘gender apartheid’ around like it’s clever or funny should read this article from women in SaudiArabia about what gender apartheid really means. And then think again before using it so flippantly.

PS: In answer to the question posed in the opening paragraph: if you are one of those men who are genuinely worried about how hard done by your gender is, why don’t you mobilise yourself, with some likeminded friends, to take action to raise awareness of the gross inequalities men face in life, rather than expecting us nasty  ‘man-hating’, ‘ugly’, ‘lesbian’, ‘feminazis’ to do it for you? Positive campaigning is an extremely empowering action, and you might realise just how privileged you were in the first place. Now, go and change the flat tyre on my car before you mow the lawn, there's a dear (see screengrab below).

My evening listening to rape jokes

“Are you married?” yelled an audience member to the cocky comic who’d just spent an hour spewing out rape jokes, an endless stream of misogyny and a smattering of casual racism aimed towards his mostly white audience. “That depends,” replied the comic. “On whether I want something from the kitchen, or whether it’s a hot girl asking.”


Amazingly, Imran Yusuf is married. I say “amazingly”, because it’s a brave woman who commits to a man who includes in his set a ‘gag’ about their recent trip to South Africa (of which Johannesburg is, in Yusuf’s words, “the rape capital of the world”), and how he explored the country’s shanty towns alone… because his wife was too scared to leave the hotel: the implication being that if she left the hotel, she would be raped. Ha ha ha.

Another reason I’m amazed Yusuf is married is that he uses the trick of telling “fuck me jokes”, as dissected by the fabulous comedian Danielle Ward in her Edinburgh preview last week. Danielle talked about the type of male comedian who goes on stage, performs a misogynistic set, and then drops in a few lines designed to make women feel he’s vulnerable – so much so that they’ll go backstage and have sex with him. Yusuf did this several times with no shame. Littered throughout his set were loaded lines about how he didn’t lose his virginity until he was 25, or about how very sensitive he was, and he pointedly addressed these lines to the “ladies”. Classy.

Now, you’d be forgiven for wondering what I was even doing at Yusuf’s gig. Well, I’d gone to a double-bill of Edinburgh previews at the Tobacco Factory because Lucy Porter was on the bill. The other act was someone I’d never previously heard of (Yusuf), but I thought since I was there I’d see what he was like. I wish I hadn’t. Yet I couldn’t get up and walk out because I was hemmed into a corner, and I also suspected Yusuf would pick on me if he saw me leave. So I stayed. And I survived his set by live-tweeting the second half of it.

Initially, I simply tweeted: “At Imran Yusuf ‘comedy’ gig. He thinks rape and misogyny are funny. So does much of his audience. I’m stuck in a corner and can’t leave.” The response was instant and huge – via retweets, supportive @ comments, new followers… So I sent a second tweet: “Such a hostile crowd to be with. What’s worse? The man with the mic telling rape jokes? Or the audience laughing at him. This is shit.” The support from Twitter grew further.

But what was Yusuf saying that was so terrible? Surely it was just a bit of harmless ‘banter’? It’s depressing that so many people (although I didn’t see many women laughing) were bellowing at gags about spiking drinks with Rohypnol, or how men are ruling the world while women read Heat magazine. It was an oppressive and nasty atmosphere to be in. The overweight and sweaty man beside me, for instance, was roaring with laughter the whole time, shaking his plastic beer mug like an over-excited toddler with a rattle, and pressing his huge sweaty frame against me, while snorting with laughter all over my arm that was squashed against him. Yuck. I couldn’t escape (but I did shower when I got home).

Placed in a wider context, Yusuf’s jokes are not imaginative, new or exclusive to him. There are a lot of comedians who think rape is a suitable topic for comedy, and who think nothing of filling their set with casual misogyny (just look at Daniel Tosh for a recent example). They’re often young, male comedians, who play to an audience of young men who, terrifyingly, might look up to the person on the stage with the microphone and think, ‘Well, if he’s saying it, then it must be true’, and the situation worsens.

The argument against rape jokes is not new and I’m not going to patronise you to explain why they’re not funny. But what I wonder is why nothing is done to penalise those comedians who persist in making jokes about (and money from) rape and misogyny? Yusuf, for instance, has been on Michael McIntyre’s Comedy Roadshow, which is broadcast on BBC1, and he now has his own show on BBC3. The BBC penalised Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand for their Andrew Sachs ‘prank’, and Angus Deayton was sacked from the BBC after his cocaine and prostitute scandal. Yet apparently the BBC has no problem giving airtime to a comedian who tells rape jokes (NB: Yusuf may not have made rape jokes on TV, but the fact remains he still makes them in his solo show).

Statistics tell us that one in four women will experience rape. The unpleasant conclusion is there were women in Yusuf’s audience last night who had survived rape. I wonder what they felt about his jokes? I wish the atmosphere had been less aggressive and testosterone fuelled so that we could have challenged him – but of course, you can’t do that to a misogynist with a mic who’s standing in front of a room filled with his hyped-up allies, because you’ll get bullied en masse. Aka: silenced.

To make matters worse, Yusuf rounded up his set (before a quick quip about honour killings – another obvious topic for comedy) saying: “If you were offended by anything I said tonight, don’t be offended. It’s just a joke. We’re all the same underneath.” Woah! Let’s just take a moment to think about that. Saying “we’re all the same underneath” implies that Yusuf only thought people might have been offended by his racist jokes (not covered in this post). And didn’t give any indication that he thought his misogynistic jokes were offensive.

Worse, saying “It’s just a joke” is as much of a cop out as ending a crap story saying “It was just a dream”. And the only response to such a weak and pathetic defence is to direct him to Stewart Lee’s Top Gear sketch: “It’s just a joke, like on Top Gear. So when I said I wished Richard Hammond had been killed and decapitated, like when they do their jokes on Top Gear, it’s just a joke.”

I accept that Yusuf is not the only comedian to think rape and misogyny are hilarious, and the reason I’m using him to illustrate my points is that I had the bad luck of seeing his show. I love live comedy (and I run my own comedy nights), but last night was the fist time I’d had first-hand experience of such a hateful set.

Why is there is no moderation in what comedians are permitted to make jokes about? I support free speech and I’m not advocating censorship, but jokes that rile several hundred people to laugh at a violent and degrading sexual assault are deplorable. Rape is often used as a tool to silence the perpetrator’s victim – and if a comedian makes jokes about rape, they’re further silencing that victim by denying them the respect they deserve for surviving the assault. What’s worse is the underhand way the comedians can do it. Yusuf, for instance, isn’t so crass as to use the word “rape” (except in reference to his wife in South Africa), but his intention is clear on numerous occasions.

It’s time the casual misogynists spewing rape jokes were called to account.

Note: I tweeted Yusuf to tell him I was writing this and asked if he’d like to comment. As yet, I’ve had no reply. I’ve also emailed the Tobacco Factory and promoter, but as yet I’ve also had no reply. Should any of the three answer, I’ll add their comment at the end of this piece.