COMEDY CONUNDRUM
WINNIPEG, TORONTO CLUBS TAKE OPPOSITE STANCES ON NO-HOLDS-BARRED HUMOUR
Visitors to Winnipeg’s Wee Johnny ’ s comedy venue will soon be greeted by a sign that makes clear no form of “discrimination, hatefulness or harassment” will be tolerated.
Toronto’s Corner Comedy Club, on the other hand, takes pride in its “totally uncensored” comedy shows.
“Definitely everything you hear in our club would be an HR nightmare,” owner Joe Tuccitto says.
Across the country, comedy rooms — t raditionally considered one of the last bastions of unfettered, un- politically correct speech — are divided over the extent to which they should police show content and behaviour in the wake of the # MeToo movement and high- profile harassment scandals.
At issue: how do they create a welcoming, inclusive environment for guests without stifling button- pushing comedy routines?
The debate is happening at a time when some big names in the comedy world have come under fire. Dave Chappelle was recently criticized for using transgender people as punch lines in his latest Netflix comedy specials, and for making fun of the women who had accused another celebrity comic, Louis CK, of harassment, by calling them weak.
L ast f all , Gilber t Rozon, founder of the Just For Laughs comedy festival, stepped down amid accusations from several women of sexual misconduct, which he denies.
Winnipeg comedian Tim Gray, who produces s hows at Wee Johnny’s, said he felt compelled to take action to let visitors know that any offensive behaviour would not be tolerated under his watch.
A sign will soon be put up near the bar that says sexism, racism, homophobia, t ransphobia, xenophobia, ableism, body shaming, unwanted touching and physical intimidation will not be tolerated.
“We want to foster a respectful community of crowds and comics,” the sign reads.
Gray said the policy is not meant to be “pro- censorship.” He said he has no problem with comics touching on “taboo” subjects or “uncomfortable truths,” as long as they do so in a meani ngful way that doesn’ t put down marginalized members of society.
“If you’re going to talk about disadvantaged members of our society, don’t use them as a punch line,” he said.
“( Critics) think I’m trying to create a room here where challenging conversations can’t take place, which is the opposite of what I’m trying to do.”
Toronto comedian Chantel Marostica, who produces Queer and Present Danger, a touring LGBTQ comedy show, applauds Gray’s decision to put the policy in writing.
“For him to just set the bar that we want everyone welcome here and that you can make things funny without making other people uncomfortable … I think that’s great,” Marostica said.
“You can push boundaries … without being ableist, homophobic or transphobic.”
Marostica, who identifies as non- binary and prefers to be identified by the pronouns they or them, said there are many people in the LGBTQ community who don’t go to comedy clubs because too often shows make them uncomfortable.
Marostica said t hey once took a girlfriend to an openmic night in Winnipeg and each comic seemed to want to outdo the next in terms of being racist or misogynistic. Their girlfriend at the time was offended and didn’t want to be in the room anymore.
“It’s good to err on the side of everybody being happy and comfortable,” Marostica said.
Aisha Alfa, who has performed at Wee Johnny’s and now lives in Los Angeles, said she doesn’t see anything wrong with a club setting expectations for performers and audience members.
“Tim isn’t telling comedians to stop telling a joke because it offended him, he’s just telling them to be funny and not purposely hurt others,” she said.
Alfa said she understands the fear that such policies could create a “slippery slope” that leads to censorship. But most comedy clubs already “do the same thing without signs,” she said.
“I have had club bookers tell me to change jokes because they found them offensive, unfunny or too much of a ‘chick joke’ that no one can relate to.”
As publicity around the sign began to spread this week, reaction on social media was not all supportive. On the club’s Facebook page, one commenter suggested Gray was committing “industry suicide” by caving to the “PC mob instead of making a firm stand for freedom of speech and the freedom to offend people.”
Tuccitto agrees. Besides construction sites, where else can people freely speak their minds, he said. As clubs “buckle to the public courts,” it could lead to a “watering down” of the industry.
“So they want to turn into a Chuck E. Cheese’s,” he quipped upon learning of the Winnipeg club’s anti-harassment policy.
Today, people are “walking on egg shells” in their work places, he said. In the evening, they’re searching for places to let loose.
“When they come to the club and get to have a laugh and hear these things that, ‘oh, you can’t say’ or ‘ we’re not supposed to talk about,’ we offer them that release.”
Tuccitto said his Toronto club operates on the premise that comedy should not be governed, as it is so subjective. On Sunday nights, they even create a “safe space” for comedians to try out their most “dangerous” and edgy materials. Audience members are invited to boo and heckle, if they wish.
The only time Tuccitto said he’s had to intervene is when an open mic performer launched a hateful attack on an audience member. The comic was asked to leave the stage. Tuccitto also said he will not book performers whose acts are solely meant to shock people or make them cringe.
Otherwise, “we don’t put any restrictions on our comedians.”
Toronto comedian Sunee Dhaliwal admits he’s torn on the issue. He’s for free speech, but also thinks everyone should be able to attend a comedy club “without fear of hearing something that would trigger them.”
After a decade of doing standup, Dhaliwal says he’s developed his own internal test to determine whether to go ahead with a joke that targets a certain demographic group: “For me to be comfortable enough to perform it, I would have to be willing to perform it in front of a room full of the demographic I’m making fun of.”
Despite t his cautious approach, Dhaliwal knows he can’t appease everyone. During a performance at a suicide awareness fundraiser, Dhaliwal joked about how ridiculous it was that restaurants serve “suicide” chicken wings. He invoked a series of puns to suggest different types of “suicide sauces” they could offer.
“It worked. Everyone saw my point,” he said. “However, after doing it at a comedy club in Victoria there was an audience member that thought I was making light of the situation — she had lost her father to suicide.”
Dhaliwal t old her t hat it wasn’t his intention. He went on to explain how suicide had touched his own life. She came around to see his point of view.
Still, whenever he does the j oke now, he makes sure to couch the joke with his own personal experience with suicide.
Dhaliwal’s story illustrates a question that Vancouver’s Paul Bae, who spent 15 years as a standup comic, has for any club that decides to introduce an anti- harassment policy: Will it accommodate comedians who deliver nuanced jokes — comedy that straddles the line of what might be considered offensive?
“All the best comics walk that line where it’s incredibly nuanced. You have to have a lot of exposure to comedy to appreciate it,” he said. Sometimes, “you have to reach dangerous parts in order to become a good comic.”
DEFINITELY EVERYTHING YOU HEAR IN OUR CLUB WOULD BE AN HR NIGHTMARE.