by Nicole Magas, Opinions Editor
I don’t often leave my house to do entertainment things anymore. These days, the effort it takes to put on pants outweighs whatever it is that’s available for me to do. But my mother-in-law was kind enough to buy tickets for my wife and I to see Hannah Gadsby’s comedy show Douglas at the Orpheum and I figured, why not? It’s free entertainment. I can put pants on just this once.
I need to make the disclaimer here that I had no idea who Hannah Gadsby was before going to this show. Aside from knowing that my wife was familiar with her work, I knew nothing and had no expectations going into this. Apparently, Gadsby has a Netflix show called Nanette that I also failed to be aware of because I have my pop culture switch permanently dialed off. I didn’t even know that she is Australian until her opening lines.
I mention all this so you know that even though I had no idea who this was, and had never before been exposed to her brand of comedy, I found myself caught in rib-bruising peels of laughter throughout most of the show. Gadsby hit multiple notes that were funny on personal, situational, and cultural levels, all at once. She undid and remade the structure of stand-up comedy right from the beginning to deliver an unapologeticly feminist take-down of society. Her hilarious and biting critique takes aim squarely at ableist culture, including the privileging of white male, cisgender, heterosexual bodies.
While it was clear from the beginning that her comedy was intended for a particular politically-minded audience, Gadsby didn’t shy away from potential detractors, with bits directed squarely toward haters and anti-vaxxers. However, the overall relatability of her content to a predominantly female audience was clear throughout the show. A story about an aggressive mansplainer at the dog park produced aghast hisses while the rapidfire feminist smackdown of the patriarchal nature of historical art brought the audience to tears with laughter. Well, most of the audience. I have to say, the guy sitting next to me was laughing really uncomfortably for most of the show. Sorry dude, not everything in the world is meant for you.
I found myself personally relating to her description of being an angry little pufferfish at the most inconsequential things. While I have never given as much thought to the Ninja Turtles as Gadsby has, I have also found myself disproportionately angry at things that really don’t matter in the grand scheme of things, and her analogy of a chubby, angry fish just works. I think I’m going to start referring to myself as a pufferfish when I’m feeling unaccountably moody from now on. If people feel the need to get in my space after that warning, that’s their own damn fault, not mine.
Far and away the most intimate part of the performance was Gadbsy’s descriptions of being autistic in a society that still doesn’t celebrate diversity as much as it thinks it does. While recognizing that being autistic has been difficult, she also emphasized that she likes the way that she thinks and doesn’t want that to change. This sentiment folded into a comedy show that highlighted women and gender diversity really nailed home an affirmative message about the individual experiences of the self. Gadsby systematically picked apart the idea of “normal” in a way that left me considering how differently we might conceive of the world if we could share lived experiences with those around us.
Equal parts cerebral and silly, thought-provoking and playful, political and personal, Hannah Gadbsy’s performance ended up being one that I was glad I put pants on for.
