20th
Lady Troubles
I just read the new article in Vanity Fair, “Who Says Women Aren’t Funny?” I’m a little behind in responding to it, but it took me a couple weeks to sift through the ads and perfume tabs before I could actually find the article.
So apparently girls can be funny and pretty and the men in control are pretty much cool with that.
Phew!
But what do other women think? Are we “comediennes”—the most subtly patronizing, unnecessary feminization of a word I have ever heard— are we cool with our female equals in the entertainment industry?
Not really.
Women have spent so long defining what’s funny and what’s not by male standards that our senses of humor have been, whether or not we want to admit it, specifically designed to conform to their wants and expectations. Every PMS joke and every filthy sex diatribe is not a brazen celebration of feminine humor; it’s an obsequious deference to the superior comedic power of men.
We’re not in control when we segregate male and female material by only talking about girly crap. But we’re also not in control when we pretend to be men and force ourselves to shelf our solid Victoria’s Secret Semi-Annual Sale bits. So what the hell are we supposed to do?
Well, what we do best: own up to some of our faults and then say, “but at least I’m not as bad as her.” We’re supposed to take every woman’s failures as a personal offence. We like to believe that it’s because we don’t want some other woman undoing the great strides our more successful female idols have made by cheapening herself. But that’s not why we’re rolling our eyes during her set. No, we’re letting out that sarcastic scoff because there are still places where a trite tampon joke will bring down the house.
This is why, when desperately trying to claw their way out of open mics and into a career, most female comedians, truly, in their heart of hearts, hate other female comedians.
Ok, lady, settle down. I know you’re a hoot and that you’re not remotely jealous of your hilarious chick-friend. You’re the exception. I totally believe you. Except, of course, that you’re full of shit.
Yeah, you’re supportive of your friend and you think she’s great, but any time she gets a laugh, it makes a little part of you furious because you know that she’s your competition in this male-directed contest we call the entertainment industry. You’re not being compared to men—I mean, Jesus! That would be absurd—you’re being compared to other women. You’re being compared to your so-called friend. So, sure, the two of you can giggle the day away, but if she tries to get the last laugh, well then that bitch is going down.
So what happens when women start being put in control? What happens when there are more female staff writers and producers? It sounds great, but here’s why I’m still scared: women haven’t learned to stop screwing each other over yet. In order to ascend the ranks of the entertainment industry, these women haven’t just needed to win over men, they have had to sabotage other women in the most vindictive and conniving ways imaginable. That kind of ruthlessness doesn’t just disappear when you get your Emmy and your corner office.
So I guess this is what I’m trying to say: Tina Fey, I think you’re the funniest, most talented woman in the business, but I need to know if you’re going to try and trip me on my way in the door. Because if you are, I guess I won’t wear heels.