Comedy and the Politics of Representation: Mocking the Weak seeks to explore the diverse ways in which comedy is a vehicle for social and cultural identities to be consolidated, constructed, or even challenged. Comedy is an ambivalent mode of expression when it comes to the representation of identity; it can range from the reactionary and conservative to the radical and subversive. Questions related to comedy and the representation of gender, sexuality, ethnicity, religion, class, and disability are becoming increasingly prominent in contemporary political debate and news journalism. For example: what are the limits of free speech in relation to humour aimed at marginalised social groups? What are the limits of free speech with regards to comedy that pokes fun at those who hold social power? Can taboo joking be used towards politically progressive ends? Can stereotypes be mocked by being re-invoked? And what are the hierarchies of power that shape the multiple, often contradictory answers to such questions? This collection examines the dynamic role that humour plays in making and remaking identity, and in negotiating power in culture and society.
This collection breaks new theoretical ground by focusing on questions of representation, and the important role that they play in mediating the triadic relationship negotiated between the teller, butt, and audience in a joking exchange. Where previous studies have often overlooked or not brought to bear the politics of representation in considerations of comedy, it is our contention that representationâwhether via a visual/textual depiction, or verbal utteranceâis integral to the mediation of this relationship by encouraging audiences to identify with or against the joker and/or butt. To paraphrase Richard Dyer (2002), representation matters, and this is nowhere more clearly the case than in comedy, wherein power relations are confirmed, negotiated, or undermined. Whether stereotypes are reiterated or subverted through comedy comes down to questions of representation. How characters are represented structures audiencesâ responses to laugh with or laugh at them. When characters are constructed as failures, it is down to their representation to illustrate whether the satirical attack is directed at a flawed character or a flawed system.
Our subtitle is a play on words based on the popular British panel show,
Mock the Week (BBC 2, 2005â) but, as we shall demonstrate, it also has resonance with various contemporary controversies about the politics of identity and representation beyond the UK.
Mock the Week takes a satirical look at the weekâs news, and features a selection of rising and established stars of the
stand-up comedy circuit. However, it has developed a controversial reputation for various reasons. In 2007, regular panellist
Frankie Boyle made reference to the Queenâs âpussyâ in a joke
, garnering complaints from both viewers and politicians. David Davies, the Tory MP for Monmouth in South Wales, was quoted as saying: âIt was a disgracefully foul comment to make about any ladyâ (Quinn
2008). In an episode broadcast in August 2008, Boyle
made several derogatory
jokes about the appearance of Olympic swimmer Rebecca Adlington. Considerable public outrage followed, with the BBC
Trust upholding complaints and deeming the comments âhumiliatingâ for Adlington (Singh
2009), but Boyle
remained unrepentant and, in an interview for
Time Out discussing why he left the show in 2008, remarked:
It was all bollocks. Especially when you consider weâre fighting two wars, thereâs fucking swine flu and the global economy is going down the toilet. Thereâs all this stuff people expect you to talk about, and what do the production team send us? A picture of Rebecca Adlington. (Arthur 2009)
An incident which took place on Boyleâs
âI Would Happily Punch Every One of You in the Faceâ
stand-up tour of the UK in 2010 provoked further debate about the
ethics of his comedy. In a
performance at Readingâs Hexagon theatre, he joked about the voices, clothes, and haircuts of people with
Down syndrome. When he asked a couple (Sharon and Kieron Smith) in the front row of the
venue what they were speaking about, they told him that their own daughter had the condition. His response was again unapologetic, and afterwards Sharon Smith expressed her thoughts on the incident in a blog. Her comments were picked up on Twitter, and received widespread media attention (Walker
2010).
More recently, and in the context of the US, the power relations of âmockingâ in comedy have been under scrutiny in relation to a photo shoot by Tyler Griffin with the American comedian Kathy Griffin. Released in May 2017, the pictures depict Griffin holding up a prop of a severed head that bears a distinct resemblance to the current US president, Donald Trump. In response to the frenzy of criticism that followed, Griffin apologised, tweeting âOBVIOUSLY, I do not condone ANY violence by my fans or others to anyone, ever! Iâm merely mocking the Mocker in Chiefâ (cited in Mindock 2017). Donald Trump Junior, the presidentâs son, responded as follows: âDisgusting but not surprising. This is the left today. They consider this acceptable. Imagine a conservative did this to Obama as POTUS?â (@DonaldJTrumpJnr, May 30, 2017). Griffin has since retracted her apology, stating that âTrump went for me because I was an easy targetâ and citing her age and gender as the reason for the backlash against her (Bernstein 2017).
As indicated by Griffinâs naming of Trump as the âMocker in Chiefâ, the current US president is now infamous for his derisive tweets aimed at a variety of targets. At the time of writing, Trump is locked into a war of words with North Korean leader Kim Jong-un. While Trumpâs insults to the North Korean dictatorâoften delivered via his presidential Twitter accountâoften take a mocking tone, the potential political consequences of these dispatches are hardly a laughing matter.1 The North Korean state-controlled television station, Korean Central Television, features a comedy programme entitled The Stage of Optimism that Sangun Presented and in September 2016 it took the opportunity to satirise then-President Barack Obama in a sketch that represented âObama â with a bandaged head, having fallen over in shock at the news of North Koreaâs latest military test.2 Nevertheless, the nation does not appreciate being on the receiving end of jokes. In the satirical film The Interview (2014, dir. Seth Rogan and Ethan Goldberg), two US journalists arrange to interview Kim Jong-un and are then recruited by North American authorities to assassinate him. The release of the film was delayed by some months due to the North Korean government threatening action against the US. Sony was then hacked by a group named âGuardians of Peaceâ, who leaked private data (including, notably, racist jokes made about President Obama by Sony employees) and also warned that terrorist attacks would occur at screenings of the film. In response, many major cinema chains cancelled their scheduled screenings, and the film received only a limited theatrical release in the US. In the ensuing media furore about free speech and censorship of humour, Ranier Maningding noted that The Interview was more troubling for its reiteration of âtacky Asian stereotype jokesâ and also condemned the filmâs insensitivity to the everyday suffering of North Korean people (2017). Perhaps most disturbingly of all, Radio Free Asia (RFA) reported in September 2017 that North Korean authorities had been organising mass meetings to issue warnings against the use of sarcasm, which they said might be construed as criticism of the countryâs regime:
The official conducting the meeting pointed specifically to commonly used expressions such as âThis is all Americaâs fault,â which when spoken ironically could be taken to imply criticism of the regime. âThe habit of the central authorities of blaming the wrong country when a problemâs cause obviously lies elsewhere has led citizens to mock the party,â RFAâs source has said. (Finney 2016)
Seemingly, âmockingâ
from the âweakâ is perceived as dangerous to a dictatorship, and efforts are made to suppress it.
These examples give us an entry point into the process of thinking through complex relationships of power, agency, and oppression when it comes to identity politics and comedy. They also introduce contentious debates around âfree speechâ, the role of comedy in relation to social critique, and the significance of context and reception. David Daviesâs defence of the Queen suggests that her public persona does not detract from her rights as a woman not to be a subject of sexist abuse. However, his choice of the term âladyâ demonstrates how easy it is for condemnation of misogynistic joking to slip into quasi-chivalric, outdated terminology that rearticulates gendered power inequalities .3 Boyleâs justification of his comments suggests that a better subject of his comedy would be serious social issues, and that when provided with prompts about celebrity, misogyny is implicitly positioned as an easy default. Griffin defends her stance as an ethical, moral person, a...