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The 2016 presidential election gave Sarah Silverman an even bigger platform than she’d had in the previous two campaigns. The comedian best known previously for taking on taboos with sly snark or for portraying herself on TV in The Sarah Silverman Program had twice taken to YouTube and Funny or Die to implore her fans to get out the vote for Barack Obama. Silverman stepped it up last year, though, not only stumping on the campaign trail for Bernie Sanders, but also speaking at the Democratic National Convention – alongside fellow former Saturday Night Live colleague and current U.S. Senator Al Franken.
Her activism prompted death threats against her over Twitter, which she references at the beginning of her first Netflix special, Sarah Silverman: A Speck of Dust. “When you’re a comedian now, you really have to think things through before you post them, you know, on Twitter,” she says, before asking the audience, “Who do we think we are? Presidents?”
Zing!
Put a pin in that for now.
She could very well have named this hour-plus performance that, for she says “put a pin in that” enough times to make it her new catchphrase, pausing after premises to turn them into non-sequiturs or tangents unto themselves, in favor of shifting gears to another topic. Instead, though, Silverman chooses to focus on her lack of proper perspective. As she tells us: “You don’t get it. We’re breathing egos, acting like we aren’t a speck of dust on a speck of dust on a speck of dust hurling through outer space. We’re nothing.”
The very next moment, of course, her ego returns to comic effect. Perhaps her skewed perspective can explain why she has preferred dirty jokes or pushing the envelope of acceptable language onstage for years. More likely, rather, she could trace it back to her father handing her a naughty joke book as a child.
Sex. Politics. Religion. Silverman’s language might be acceptable at her own family’s dinner table, but she rarely hesitates to reach out to people who might find her jokes or her lifestyle unacceptable. She recalls performing at one show for Lizz Winstead’s Lady Parts Justice cause, and wanting to talk with protestors outside to find any common ground – only to see a 9-year-old girl holding a sign reading: “Abortion is Bloody Murder.” Can Silverman find something to say to that girl? Perhaps not in that moment. But onstage here and now, she has two clever wordplay quips at the ready.
Which she then puts a pin in so she can relay to us “the coolness of a throwaway joke,” comparing it to the ability to not smile after swishing a three-pointer in a pickup basketball game.
That’s not the only time Silverman wants to let us all into the secrets of comedy. After making fun of one of her sisters, she tells us: “I would call that a relief laugh.” And after a bit in which she both attacks and defends a stereotype about Jewish people, she reflects: “Are you selling out your culture? Sorry. Did it get a laugh? Yes. OK!”
Silverman does stand up for women against a popular culture that still teaches unattainable lessons in body image and love, and in much lighter moments, teaches us about the importance of scheduling Tweets and laser hair removal payments each in their proper order.
Other fun facts to retain?
Silverman provides evidence she would make for a great ventriloquist.
She also provides recorded proof of how she handled a death-defying medical emergency last year, with video footage taken of her just before surgery by her longtime friend/manager Amy Zvi, with Silverman’s boyfriend, actor Michael Sheen, by her side.
Whereas her 2005 concert film, Jesus Is Magic, and her 2013 HBO special, We Are Miracles, both featured musical numbers, there are no songs to be sung here. She’d won an Emmy for the latter, for outstanding writing in a variety special (Another fun fact? Her other Emmy so far came for writing music and lyrics for former boyfriend Jimmy Kimmel in the song, “I’m F**king Matt Damon”). Silverman’s mixture of cheeky bits and feminist activism might not earn her a trophy this time around, nor represent a nothing-but-net three from beyond the arc. Consider this more of a hard drive down the lane for a layup and the foul for a plus one.
Or just put a pin in it and enjoy the laughs.
Sean L. McCarthy works the comedy beat for his own digital newspaper, The Comic’s Comic; before that, for actual newspapers. Based in NYC but will travel anywhere for the scoop: Ice cream or news. He also tweets @thecomicscomic and podcasts half-hour episodes with comedians revealing origin stories: The Comic’s Comic Presents Last Things First.
