Six Queer Lady Comedians I Now Know and Love

From top left: Funny people Caitlin Gill, Sam Jay, Scout Durwood, Maggie Farris, Jessica Sele, & Ever Mainard.

On the first night of Portland’s Bridgetown Comedy Festival this weekend, six brilliant queer ladies took over the Bunk Bar stage for a showcase called Les is More. “It’s the first night and I get to meet all the babes,” MC Caitlin Weierhauser told me before the show. “It’s like one giant Tinder date.”

The six comedians in the showcase will all make you want to swipe right: Jessica Sele, Ever Mainard, Samaria "Sam Jay" Johnson, Scout Durwood, Caitlin Gill, and Maggie Faris. Together on one stage, they epitomized the wide range of work represented within current queer comedy. There were commonalities to be sure—including a wealth of material about issues near and dear to this queer feminist's heart: sex toys, porn, and gender presentation. This impressive variety in their comedic styles and subject matter complicates the notion that there is a monolithic queer experience that can be represented by a determined “queer content” or a “queer aesthetic.” 

Weierhauser opened the show with helpful instructions on how to deter would-be street harassers: by dressing like “the gayest Outsider” and using intimidation tactics such as shouting nonsense words and adopting temper tantrum-reminiscent physicality. Samaria "Sam Jay" Johnson explained how she has come to understand the white male sense of loss—watching Mad Men revealed to her the golden age of white male privilege for which contemporary dudes yearn. The somewhat tired lesbian haircut joke was revived by Ever Mainard in a joke about discovering her aesthetic doppleganger: a bedraggled man twenty years her senior in her hometown in rural Texas.

In terms of style, the comedy ranged from anecdotal to quirky to slapstick. Scout Durwood walked onto the stage with ukulele in hand and more energy than the average Portland comedy stage is prepared to contain. She proceeded to bounce from one end of the stage to the other in service of an extended choreography gag about the much-maligned “Left Shark” from Katy Perry’s Superbowl halftime show. Caitlin Gill’s slapstick physicality brought her down to the fetal position for a joke about attempting to explain gender presentation to prying children. This was a striking counterpoint to Jessica Sele’s quiet anecdotal comedy and to Maggie Faris’ dry, gruff rambling about a variety of glamorous fictitious jobs. 

Though there's no one clear defining aspect of "queer comedy," I have sat through enough comedy shows exclusively featuring the comedy stylings of straight white men working through anger issues ("No one wants to date me!") to feel distinctly refreshed to be presented with a stage full of six hilarious and talented queer women. If any of these funny ladies are performing near you in coming months, get a ticket immediately.