First and Last, Grab the Chance to See Nanette

First the facts: Hannah Gadsby’s show Nanette has won the top prizes at the most prestigious comedy festivals around the world. She has won five-star reviews, one after another, from some of the most comedy-literate publications, and reviewers have called her powerful, raw, and electrifying. Some famous fans have called the experience life-changing, and in most cases that wouldn’t be believable. In this it is. This is something more. 

Imagine holding in your hand a lovely old mirror, then feeling it slip from your fingers. There’s a moment of breath caught in the throat, when fear and dismay combine into a heart-stopping amazement, followed by a pang of realization that something of beauty is about to be lost from the world. But then, when you see the shards scattered about the floor you notice that the sharpest pieces reflect the brightest light—even a hint of rainbow as white is fractured into its component parts. That’s Gadsby: A light illuminating those sharp edges of our society and the ways we interact that cut deepest and cause the most pain. She is, by her own admission, broken and unable to see her own worth, but what she delivers in a gut-wrenching 90 minutes is so much greater than just ourselves reflected. She is incredible. 

This is Gadsby’s first time performing in New York, holding a month-long run at the Soho Playhouse. It will also be her last. Why would a person who has just reached the highest peak of their career suddenly decide that it has to end? That’s the point of this show, and to reveal any more would do a disservice to both performer and reader. It must be witnessed. It is all the things that those critics said. But it is also a a searing indictment of a beloved profession, its favorite targets and techniques, and some of its most famous sons. 

Hannah Gadsby has short hair. Onstage she wears trousers and a blazer, and not the uber-tailored, form-fitting kind, either. She looks ready to work. She admits early in the performance that she greeted by servers and baristas as “sir” more often than most people would find comfortable. She has extensive knowledge of art history, but she is nothing like the waifs and wilting flower women that have been the subjects of artists’ gazes since before time immemorial. 

It may be a badge of honor at this point, but it wasn’t an easy thing to accept. When is it ever easy to accept and love ourselves when we are “different”? Gadsby’s previous shows have plumbed that material, some of which is easy to find on YouTube or podcasts, but you don’t really need to hear that before seeing her. (If you’re human, and I suspect you are, it’s likely you’ve experienced much of the same things for yourself, turning as she has to jokes to keep them from bothering you more.) 

The point of this show is to go back to those jokes and reveal them in their full truth. It is a shocking and necessary feat, and one that we need to witness more and more often. Hers is the kind of voice that will change the world if he dare to listen.

She may have been broken, but Gadsby has picked up the pieces in her life and reassembled them into something stronger and longer lasting. And while her words are angry and have the power to cut, she says them as someone who very deeply loves this world and the people in it. She wants us to be kind to each other, to nurture and protect each other, even when—or perhaps despite—the world that wouldn’t nurture or protect her. She has a massive heart, and she leaves it all on the stage for our benefit and betterment. 

Hannah Gadsby
Nanette
Now playing at the Soho Playhouse through April 15, 2018