I set out to write some comments on Dave Chappelle's "The Closer" focusing on his two jokes about "Space Jews". Originally I thought I would send it as an Op-Ed to the Times; as usual with such thoughts, the piece got too long, so I cut a lot of the material below. Then I changed my mind and decided to post it to The Parrot's Lamppost, so this post is partly the material I cut from the previous one, and partly some additional thoughts.
Meanwhile Chappelle has responded
to his transgender critics, or rather, to the perceived judgment that he is
being held to account for what he said about them in "The Closer". He
is not backing down on anything and clearly still trying to drum up support -
in this case, with a story about a special he did in a cornfield which is now
meeting resistance in the distribution channel. "So am I cancelled or
not?" he asks before casually tossing the microphone over his
shoulder.
"Cancelling", that effluence of unregulated social media, stands in an awkward gap between free speech and bullying. I have nothing to do with it, and like Chappelle my main reaction is that Twitter is not a real place. But that doesn't mean we all have to sit down, shut up and laugh at whatever Chappelle takes to be amusing. Anyway, after The New Yorker, the Atlantic, Slate, Vox and so many others have weighed in, what are the chances that a squawking parrot can "cancel" Dave? We'll probably have less impact than intellectually feeble adulatory rants like this. Be that as it may, your bird will sing, be the impact what it may.
It is a notable fact, of Chappelle's own making, that of the
thousands of possible subjects for comedy, he has chosen things like the claims
of the transgender, gay rights and women's movements, as well as Jews, Asians
and other vulnerable populations. Nobody forced this on him, so it is a bit disingenuous
when he gets the criticism that might be expected, and pushes back as if he is
the one who has been injured. "I'm the only one who can't go to the
office", he says. Well - is the point that there are trans comedians
making jokes about black folks, and they can "go to the
office"? If so, that's wrong, of course; but since he chose his subjects
and got paid $20 million per special to talk about them it's not like he was in
a corner or something. I have to say that I admire both Netflix for not
caving in to criticism and removing the shows, and the communities for not
backing down in light of Chappelle's defensive gestures.
By chance I happened on a NY Times Magazine article from a year ago - the title in print was "The Last Laugh", by Dan Brooks, but online it is called "How President Trump Ruined Political Comedy". It contains some telling analysis on conservative comedy, including this:
...any statement that gets too much blowback can become someone else's failure to take a joke.
This
approach lets irony serve as a stalking horse for ideas that decency prevents
the ironist from advancing seriously.
Referring to conservative comedians Steven Crowder, Jesse
Watters and Milo Yiannopoulos, Brooks says,
All three men construct jokes that operate in a gray area between tweaking political correctness and simply repeating the prejudices it forbids.
In his estimation, "ambiguous irony has allowed both political comedians and pundits to say what cannot be said."
Much of that could be applied with equal accuracy to the recent comedy of Dave Chappelle. No one will accuse him of being a conservative, but the thrust of "The Closer" and some of his other recent work has an eerie similarity to the methods of conservative "blowback" that Brooks put his finger on. Chappelle wants us to sit back and relax as he throws "forbidden" barbs at various communities, and then demands the space to say "but it's comedy, give me a break!" when people object. If that doesn't do it, he insists that we listen more closely to see that his jokes are not really aimed at these various marginalized groups. And if we are still not willing to follow him down that path he insists we don't have a grip on reality ("gender is a fact" he states informatively) or reminds us that white activists are always willing to jump across the racial barricades when push comes to shove. It's a lot of moves to defend jokes that, prima facie, seem offensive.
Apart from the "Space Jews" routines, "The
Closer" includes obvious, raunchy bathroom and bedroom humor, a critique
of racial myopia in the women's movement and a true story about his supportive relationship
with a trans woman who was an aspiring stand-up comedian. The most common word
in the show is either "bitches" or "niggas" (which I shall reproduce in this form only insofar as I am quoting Chappelle). Both words lose their shock
value by repetition.
Actually I'm not sure if any shock value still remained in the "n-word" after Richard Pryor famously introduced, and later abandoned, the use of it in his routines. Lenny Bruce once repeatedly ran through a long list of ethnic insult words with the goal of something like what psychologists call "semantic satiation" - where words temporarily lose meaning due to repetition. Here the words seem in line with a delivery style derived from ghetto talk and hip hop culture. In his Ohio show on 6/6/20 he also says "I use the word 'bitch' all the time because it's black." That seems to be another version of "it's all in the delivery", and Chappelle lacks nothing in terms of delivery. He gets plenty of women laughing at what he says about "bitches", and I'm not going to get on a pulpit and say they shouldn't, it's demeaning, etc. So I'll focus on other aspects of his humor.
Chappelle minces no words about racism; he delivered a
lengthy monologue on the George Floyd murder at that 6/6/20 show, and he was
clearly not looking for laughs or even applause, he was saying how it affected
him and how he appreciated the protests. But he is not always heavy, and
delivers some self-deprecating humor as well. He actually opens "The
Closer" with a routine on COVID-19 in which he describes getting the
Johnson & Johnson vaccine as "the most nigga-ish thing I've done in a
long time". But anyone who follows him knows that such self-deprecation comes
wrapped in a lot of context. So for contrast we have one of the funniest lines
in "Sticks and Stones", where Chappelle relates an interaction with a
television producer who told him he cannot say "fag---" on tv. He
asked why not, when he says "nigga" all the time? "Because
you're not one of them," she tells him. "That's true," he
replies, "but I'm not a nigga either!" Zap!
But notice something: here we forgive the way he skirts the logic that is really behind the producer's remark, because the sentiment seems genuine. What the producer meant is that we reserve to each ethnic or national group the right to use common insults about themselves, but rarely give such license to others. Jews can call one another "Yids" or joke about our schnozzolas, but it's a rare situation where someone else can do it with impunity. So Chappelle doesn't really have a license to talk about "fag---s", but he can go ahead and mock Martin Luther King's speech patterns and use the n-word as he pleases. His response to the producer is brilliant but slightly off-target; and we let it go because we want it to be right.
But when he discusses other communities things get dicier. The
Johnson & Johnson vaccine may deserve some ribbing, but, "I'll have
what the homeless people are having"? There's a sense of "the
homeless get screwed" there, but it comes with a very rough edge, a
distancing that suggests he is really better than them. Another joke reifies
Trump's reference to COVID-19 as the "Chinese virus": referring to
news media coverage of attacks on Asians by black people he says that he failed
to get sick from COVID because the same thing was happening inside his body. Is
Trump the target here? If so that's pretty subtle for stand-up, where the
impact has to be immediate if you want a laugh. Maybe Chappelle was just satirizing
the trope about black-Asian antipathy. He's not above using just about anyone
as the butt of a joke (the Amish take it on the chin pretty squarely in one of
his routines) but it is usually possible to read it as a humorously hyperbolic
reaction to some existing prejudice rather than an exercise in prejudice
itself.
As I said above, though, that ambiguity can be a dangerous tool, should it fall into the wrong hands. You might say that the entire support for the limb Chappelle is out on is our willingness to treat him as everyone's friend, underneath it all, whether that assumption is earned or not. It takes a lot of courage to walk that line, putting your audience in that position and hoping they give you the benefit of the doubt. With the "Space Jews" jokes he definitely crossed the line for me: clever, not particularly funny, and no underlying truth to them either. I wonder how Asians took the COVID joke. If that moral ambiguity fails too often it's not a good sign.
Another one of his routines has a laugh at the expense of
both trans women and veterans, a bit of crude bathroom humor that involves a
reference to the kind of wound that male veterans might find least amusing. So
you might say to yourself: "No one could be that heartless about a
wounded veteran, so it must be rooted in empathy." Well, someone
very prominent in American politics made some of the most repulsive comments
ever aired in public about veterans and still got elected, so we can't just
assume that everyone on a stage cares much about veterans, or everyone
listening to them either.
Yet another routine involves Chappelle's alleged sexual abuse by a preacher: "Don't feel bad for me - I liked it", he says, and then attempts to make the preacher sound like the loser in the transaction. I don't know if Chappelle was really a victim of such abuse, but even if he was, and this way of dealing with it works for him, I wonder if other victims wouldn't feel more like it was a fresh assault. A longer discussion of pedophilia in "Sticks and Stones" was better prepared and somewhat less graphic, but this quickie gets crammed into the act as if he needed to make up time. Child sexual abuse is one of the few subjects where the demand for trigger warnings is arguably justified. Since trigger warnings in stand-up comedy are all but guaranteed to ruin the jokes, maybe the standard should be that if you can't ease into it, don't do it at all?
Chappelle insists he is not a misogynist; in fact, he is a
"feminist", if that means believing women should have equal rights. Good;
welcome to the mid-20th century, at least. "Equal rights" is
extremely vague, though; depending on where and who you are it can mean anything
from equal pay and employment opportunity to the right to work at all. He has
stated clearly enough (in "Sticks and Stones") that he is pro-choice;
the routine involves a sort of giveback to men, but it is a funny quip and he's
probably not holding us to it. He directs some barbs at the women's movement,
mainly for what he takes to be its whiteness. But as for women, once again
there is that ambiguity in some of his jokes that lets him say things with a note
attached: "Of course I don't mean to offend anyone personally by calling
them a 'cunt'; it's comedy, after all." Actually in his 6/6/20 show it
seems that he does want to offend someone that way. I don't know what
attraction this holds for him. You get more bang for your buck calling someone
an "ignorant cretin" or "pathetic jerk" or hundreds of
other nice putdowns than with the commonplace, non-specific "cunt",
which seems to say little more than that "I hate women like that".
He also has nothing against gay people, he just envies the progress they have made, by comparison with people of color. He is upset that DaBaby was taken to task when he "made a very egregious mistake" with repeated, vile remarks about gays and people with AIDS. Chappelle's delivery often starts with a factual back story that shades into pure setup, so it is not really clear whether characterizing DaBaby's remarks as a "mistake" is something he sincerely believes or just part of the setup for the next gag. "Can't do that... can't do that," he says - is this "can't" as in shouldn't, or as in there will be consequences for your career? (See what I mean about ambiguity?) Regardless, it was certainly not a "mistake", it was intentional homophobic bigotry. Does Chappelle believe it was wrong, or not? He doesn't really say.
The gag that follows is way off base too. This involves (spoiler
alert) an ironic reference to the fact that DaBaby's career didn't suffer after
he shot and killed a man, but it did when he made homophobic remarks: "In
our country you can shoot and kill a nigga, but you better not hurt a gay
person's feelings!" Chappelle's effort to focus on the contrast between
racism and homophobia, or black liberation and gay liberation, shows once again
how a funny quip can mask very faulty reasoning. DaBaby was not charged with a
crime (other than carrying a concealed weapon), because he convinced the police
that he fired in self-defense; he also posted on Instagram to the effect that
he was protecting his family. So the incident hardly shows that nobody cares as
much about killing a black person as they do about insulting gay people. What it
shows is that his constitutional right to be held innocent unless proven guilty
was respected; while his crude and explicit hate speech was rejected. (Just to
be clear, I am not taking sides over the morality of the shooting; but the evidence
available to the public was not sufficient to say "he got away with murder,
so let's not let him play on this Dua Lipa single" or whatever.)
Chappelle clearly has nothing against transgender people, for some of his best friends are trans - or at least Daphne Dorman was, until she was driven to suicide after trans advocates dragged her for defending him. That may be on the trans community, but he seems to think that because she indulged his humor transgender activists ought to take a lesson from her. That's really up to them, and I can see how some of his jokes might set them off. One that could trigger the transphobia alarm is the statement that so-called TERFs (Trans-Exclusionary Radical Feminists) see trans women the way black folks see white people in blackface. The joke seems to imply not only that trans women are not women in the true sense, but that their "impersonation" of women is offensive, because blackface is offensive. (Cf. the recent case of composer Bright Sheng and the Othello video.) By itself, the line pins the comparison on others. But then he claims to be "team TERF" and repeatedly admonishes his audience that "gender is a fact". That is a lot to swallow, even if there is room for discussion of how trans women are and are not like cis women. Moreover, to define yourself in terms of the exclusion of certain types of people is just bigotry; in this sense, TERFs stand with Trump and his coterie of Christian fundamentalists.
Stepping outside the theater for a minute, I'm not sure J.K.
Rowling, whose conflicts with trans activists are the kickoff for Chappelle's
routine, counts as a TERF at all,
because "radical feminist" does not seem to describe her. Anyone can
be a feminist in some lightweight sense, including Dave Chappelle, as he
pointedly reminds us. A "radical feminist" is usually understood as
one who takes one or more positions that is more antagonistic to traditional
sex roles than merely arguing for women's equality - e.g., one who advocates
female or lesbian separatism, wants to criminalize pornography, or finds women's
oppression to be inherent in the nature of capitalism. I don't think Rowling or
several other women who have been labelled "TERFs" are radical feminists.
In fact, their belief that biology is in some sense destiny is a position that
used to be taken by anti-feminists, with different implications. The
ideas that trans women don't stand in the same relationship to the women's
movement as cis women does not make someone a "radical feminist", or transphobic,
for that matter; but to self-define as "trans-exclusionary" makes
someone a bigot no matter what comes after it.
Chappelle's repeated comment that "gender is a fact" seems directed against the claim that gender is socially constructed. This is a rabbit hole he probably should not go down, because arguments grounded on the claim that "race is a fact" are almost always attempts to justify racism in one form or another. Of course, just as "biology is destiny" has suddenly been stood on its head by some feminists, so has this: whereas it was once considered scientifically false and racist to assert that there are basic biological differences between races (because "there's only one race - the human race"), both the scientific facts and their social implications have been reconsidered, with some in the scientific and intellectual community (including critical race theorists) embracing the reality of race in the context of a struggle against racism. Which aspects of race or gender are socially constructed and which are genetically given? There are some obvious facts and falsehoods, and a lot of gray areas. The appeal to common sense in the statement "gender is a fact" is dangerous in that it may be a way of pushing through some of the falsehoods under the guise of obvious truths. But what is surely not a fact of biology is that trans and cis women cannot be equal participants in the women's movement, or shouldn't use the same bathrooms. That is a socially constructed platform of feminists who only deserve the name "radical" for their narrowmindedness.
Chappelle's contrast between the effectiveness of black
liberation initiatives and those of movements he needles for being
"white" when they need to be seems to me exaggerated. The civil
rights movement and Black Lives Matter, among others, have certainly not lacked
for achievements, while the biggest victory for women in the last 50 years may
be about to evaporate, and gains for transgender people have been mostly at the
local level here and there. What is true, though, is that what you might call
the "arc of liberation" for a people whose history in this country began with chattel slavery is much longer and steeper than it is for any other social
group; so even very significant gains may still leave them much further from
true equality than others were before they even began to fight. But, as has
been said before, liberation is not - certainly not always - a zero sum game. Women's
and LGBTQ liberation in particular do not come at the expense of black
liberation.
In any case, there are few if any strictly "white" liberation movements, even though there are inner tensions over the proper thrust of some movements and the role of people of color within them. Not to excuse the racial myopia they sometimes exhibit, but depicting them as expressions of white privilege is not constructive. Even a women's or LGBTQ movement that plays primarily by a white playbook will have benefits for women and gay/trans people of color; the point is to nudge them in the direction of more conscious appreciation of the specific issues of black and brown people. Would Chappelle welcome a really powerful women's or LGBTQ movement within the black community, one that could not be called on the carpet for white privilege? I'm really not sure, for I suspect such a movement might have little truck with his current brand of humor.
Chappelle is not just a comedian but an orator, and for all his dependence on old Anglo-Saxon words, quite a brilliant one. His 6/20/20 show had virtually no jokes, and it is hard to imagine a more intense speech on police violence. But I am not always persuaded that he uses this talent fairly. There is a theme to some of his remarks in which he assumes the role of the injured party, implying that we are obligated to grant him a license to say whatever he wants just because he is a comedian plying his trade. I will say one thing in favor of this, and it has to do with the comedic voice. There is a "voice" to every utterance, be it straight, sarcastic, pedantic, tongue-in-cheek or whatever. The comedic voice can often be taken to be prefaced by something like this: "Here is the natural reaction to this sort of thing, though I'm not saying it is right: ..." As I said in the previous post, you play to your audience's underlying assumptions in order to get a laugh, and it doesn't always mean justifying those assumptions. But Chappelle sometimes undermines his ability to use position as a defense. Sometimes, as with "Space Jews", his convoluted setup for the joke betrays his own interest in making a point, not the receptivity of the audience; while in other cases he turns to straight lecturing to tell us what he thinks ("gender is a fact").
In any case, comedy has a long history - Aristophanes, Chaucer, Twain, Chaplin, the Marx Brothers, Mel Brooks, Richard Pryor, Jon Stewart - and raising painful issues for people facing various forms of injustice is hardly the only way to make a living at it. Certainly he doesn't always do this; but "The Closer" had a few too many instances of it.
I don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of the history of stand-up, and I would not be shocked if someone pointed to an example of a white comedian who made remarks no less offensive than Chappelle's and was never called on the carpet for it. But Andrew Dice Clay was excoriated for homophobia and more in Dice Rules, and Louis CK (along with numerous other white male celebrities) was not spared a #MeToo shaming, though it was not for making offensive jokes. (If only he had done it underneath the bed instead of on top he could have passed it off as serious performance art.) Chappelle seems bent on not merely questioning today's high expectations of sensitivity but at least occasionally flying in the face of them. It's as if he painted himself into a corner and is now mad at people for pointing out he's in it.
In a moment one has to acknowledge as touching, he refers to
LGBTQ activists asking him not to "punch down" on them, and he
similarly asks people not to "punch down" on him for pursuing his
art. But you can't compare someone offended by a stand-up comedian who may have
crossed a line and caused pain with a stand-up comedian offended by someone who
doesn't appreciate the joke. The former is punching up, not down; the latter
has a bully pulpit and a $20 million contract. It's just not a fair comparison.
Chappelle has a problem now, and as one of the top comedians in the world I assume he will find a way to get through it. He took a break earlier as he questioned whether he was happy with what he was doing on The Chappelle Show with regard to depictions of black characters, and for some reason decided his new direction would be taking the anti-discrimination struggles of others as a subject for comedy. But he did this at a time when their issues are being taken very seriously in the entertainment world, as is the movement to confront structural racism. You could say there was a problem of judgment there.
Well, you do have to take risks, right? Lenny Bruce took risks; Dick Gregory took risks; Andy Kaufman, Richard Pryor, Cheech and Chong and many others refused to be limited by convention. But they didn't take these risks at the expense of other vulnerable people. It would feel much better to have him in the ring punching up, down or sideways at the many actors on the world stage who truly deserve to be on the receiving end of his wit.
Chappelle says he will not do another special for a while, though in his Instagram post he complains that he has been trying unsuccessfully to distribute a special he recently did in a cornfield. Maybe he could use another timeout; he took a rather long one before, an opportunity for introspection. "The Closer" doesn't have to be anything more than a slightly fraught step on the way to finding his new voice.
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