Who Doesn’t Love Michelle Wolf?
This College of William and Mary alum shook up the stand-up comedy world and earned a certain reputation along the way for her no-holds-barred approach.
COURTESY IMAGE // JEFF NEIRA FOR NETFLIX
You may know her from controversial TikToks (or Instagram Reels, for the more pretentious crowd) on Netflix’s social media, or you might have seen her as the small video overlaid a simultaneous game of Subway Surfers during late-night scrolling. Michelle Wolf, Class of 2007, made a name for herself as a stand-up comic challenging the status quo for female comedians, opting to zero in on the raunchiest material she can muster. From male genitalia at nude beaches to criticizing the Me Too movement, she is known to elicit one of two reactions from her audience: a cackle or a groan. One such joke, centered around whether she was in the wrong for publicly acknowledging her friend’s breast augmentation as “fake boobs,” finished with the punchline, “Okay, good, so we’re all a little transphobic.” Reactions from the audience were understandably mixed.
After pouring over her most recent release on Netflix, It’s Great to Be Here, and revisiting her older work, Wolf clearly does not attempt to be someone that she isn’t, nor does she make any claims of enlightenment or political correctness. Her cheeky honesty, replete with perfectly timed pauses and mischievous grins, exposes viewers to her inner monologue, which, judging by her high numbers on Rotten Tomatoes, viewers often find abundantly relatable. For as many laughs as she may garner, Wolf’s sets also spark dialogue on whether the various movements of our time have gone too far. In an article from Rolling Stone entitled “Why Michelle Wolf Escaped America,” she discussed frustration at Americans’ inability to contextualize comedy from people like Dave Chappelle, whose joke involving Caitlyn Jenner provoked criticism from more liberal viewers. “I think people really miss a lot of what he’s saying,” Wolf admitted.
Comedians in recent years have been forced to address attempts at “canceling” them, and Wolf is no stranger to these attempts. Specifically, poor public reception to her performance at the 2018 White House Correspondents Dinner put her career in a precarious position. In their coverage of the dinner, Vogue described it as a “take-no-prisoners routine” in their article “Was Michelle Wolf Out of Line?” According to The Guardian, Sean Spicer labeled Wolf’s set as “disgusting.” Despite the backlash, six years later, she continues to find success in spades.
Comedy is arguably more a practice than an art. Unlike dance or opera, there is no mastery in comedy; rather, like yoga, practitioners must regularly reevaluate their limits while they push boundaries. Michelle Wolf’s unabashed willingness — eagerness, even — to push those boundaries leads her to perform material that many comedians consider far beyond their limits. Yet, she seems to get away with it, narrowly escaping cancel culture with her signature sly grin.
How does she do it? Maybe the trick is in her delivery, which has an unmistakable yet indiscernible childlike quality to it. Like a teenager sitting at the adult table for the first time, Wolf throws out a comment that seems far too inappropriate, far too mature for her elementary school peers at the kiddie table. Then, she waits. A single snicker from a great-uncle gives her the signal she needed to barrel full speed ahead, earning glares from her parents for her use of profanity and R-rated material. This common coming-of-age experience easily describes the relationship which Wolf cultivates with her audience: they are the aunts and uncles, encouraging her to keep them laughing and ignore the stares from her parents. That feeling of being “in” on something special keeps her fans coming back and the political correctness police at bay. How can you punish a young mind testing the waters? You have to let her get some sea legs first.
COURTESY IMAGE // NETFLIX
For those who don’t quite buy that reasoning, another explanation is her perplexing stance on feminism. The audience finds themselves caught in a constant “will she, won’t she” with every reference to the female struggle. One moment, she discusses the perils of a society that revolves around external beauty, announcing her wish for “true equality.” The next, she seems to blame women for a lack of clarity and direction in the Me Too movement. On its face, she seems to be attacking strong women who spoke their truth, despite all the forces against them. Yet, when examining the movement and its repercussions holistically, Wolf may not be too far off. “This was a lot more complicated of a situation than we let it be,” she said. “We needed to have conversations around it, and we couldn’t even have conversations.” The remainder of the set discusses women setting boundaries with male peers but failing to communicate them, the gray area of uncomfortable sexual encounters, and the unfortunate female attraction to “bad boys”.
You can’t tell whose side she’s on, but her ambiguity seems to be working. She captures audience members who think that “woke” feminism has gone too far while simultaneously appeasing the crowd that desires the “true equality” Wolf describes. The enemy of your enemy is your friend, and since no one can tell which category Wolf fits into, she escapes without a scratch.
From her work on stage to intimate interviews, Michelle Wolf exemplifies that notorious William and Mary wit, and she uses it skillfully. She tiptoes her way through sets and conversations, never definitively declaring a stance but leaving her audience mulling over the movements of the postmodern age. Wolf tends to voice what many might deem “inside thoughts.” Some viewers might prefer she keep those thoughts inside, but others may relish the feeling of taking part in such a seemingly intimate exchange. If you consider yourself the latter, Wolf’s work might just be for you.
