Hannah Gatsby – Nannette
I’ve been struggling with how to
approach a review of this piece currently streaming on Netflix. It’s
sold as a “stand-up” special, but harkens more to a one-woman piece in
the vein of Julia Sweeney’s “God Said HAH!”. It’s certainly different
from a lot of things currently out there and as a straight cis-gendered
male, I’m actually kind of running a risk of being taken out of context
for sharing my thoughts. It’s a problem I’ve been facing the past year
on a number of films, plays, and other materials that I’ve experienced.
The sense of nervousness and even a little fear in being attacked for
one reason or another. Someone might misinterpret something I’ve said
and use it against me. So keep that in mind when you read these
thoughts, because I’m actively trying to not be offensive in any way.
But I’ll probably trigger someone or another.
“Nannette” is a mis-titled piece
of stand-up performance by Tasmanian comedian Hannah Gatsby. She is an
out and proud lesbian who performs mostly in Australia, she identifies
as a woman despite many presuming that she’s is a trans male (Her look
is rather “butch” by the LGBTQ definition), and she has a lot of
opinions and thoughts on her profession, on society, and on the very
topic of humor itself.
She’s built a career on telling
her stories in life- growing up in a highly religious and intolerant
small Tasmanian town, coming out to her mother, coming out in general,
discovering herself and who she is in life, coping with the stereotypes
and lifestyles of a gender-queer community, and so on so forth. Her
humor is outstanding with a set up and a knock down delivery, some
thoughts on people sharing their “criticism” and “opinions” of her work.
“Men Criticize… Women share their Opinions.” Her work stands
out and she tackles mental health, medication, and utilizes her art
history degree to deliver some truly scathing social commentary on the
world as it is.
But Hannah Gatsby digs deep into
her profession and the laughter stops. Because she’s tired of making
people laugh, she’s tired of the way jokes are constructed, of the
maliciousness and self-deprecation involved in making people laugh.
She’s tired of the stories not going far enough, not giving enough
detail on what transpires after the punchline is delivered. Because more
does happen. She’s raped, assaulted, and she experiences terror,
suicidal thoughts, depression, and she is not safe in the world. People
are laughing at her stories and she just doesn’t want to be that person
anymore. The material becomes deeply personal- it always has been but it
was always played for laughs, but Gatsby just can’t find the energy to
laugh anymore.
She is tired.
It’s an emotional piece and it
takes you places and it entertains and informs. My heart goes out to
Miss Gatsby, my heart goes out to all of those who have suffered and
experienced the kind of pain and heartache she has experienced. She’s a
natural introvert performing in an extroverts career, a constant
contradiction to herself. She’s happier with a quiet cup of tea than
going out to watch parades and dance in clubs. She turns to the male
members of her audience and commends them for taking some of the abuse
she’s dished out, and she acknowledges that she isn’t being kind to
them. She also acknowledges that she doesn’t necessarily have to be, but
she knows they’re there and they’re supporting her.
Well, as a man or a viewer or a
fan or a customer, the truth is that I don’t have a criticism. I don’t
have advice or suggestions or any of that. I do have an opinion, but it
has nothing to do with changing the piece or wanting some sort of
alteration to what she’s done on that stage. The piece is what she wants
it to be and it’s what the material needs to be- for her. It’s an
artistic achievement.
I do have a bit of a rebuttal,
though. Because as tired as Miss Gatsby is, as frustrated as she’s
become, and has worn thin as the frayed lines might be, the humor with
which she has faced all the terrible times in her life has given her a
strength and a courage that should be admired, respected, and applauded.
Her recognition of what a joke is does not diminish the importance of
the joke or the need we have of coping with life. I have experienced my
own terrors and fears and it’s the ability to laugh that allows me to
face my life and avoid eating a bullet. Her words and experiences are
powerful, but there is a deep fear in me that some of it would be used
to justify restrictions on free speech. I certainly understand why
people would- it’s not as though I were deaf to their experiences. I
don’t lack for compassion. And I wish that Miss Gatsby did not need to
have the strength she once got from comedy.
I am not Miss Gatsby’s target
audience. I am afraid she would not like me very much. I am crude,
obnoxious, sarcastic, and I am a free speech absolutist. She would
likely roll her eyes at my review and never bother reading it should it
come across her eyes on a google search one random evening as she is
sipping tea. She would read my rebuttal and probably think me a wanker
or whatever term the Aussies might use to describe a jerk with an
opinion.
That’s fair.
10 out of 10 and a high recommend.