NEW YORK -- The conundrum of Jewish comedy today is this: How does a sensibility that has long benefited from its outsider status adjust to a world where it has not only assimilated into popular culture but also helped define it.
One answer can be found at the Theater Center in Times Square, where a slickly funny stand-up show, Strictly Unorthodox, presents a more culturally marginal Jewish perspective. An ultra-Orthodox Jew from England, Ashley Blaker, has built an act about the rituals of an insular, deeply traditional community that treats much of modern culture and society with suspicion.
While contemporary Jewish comedians like Moshe Kasher have talked about religious Jews in their family, and Woody Allen used traditional garb for a famous sight gag in Annie Hall, Orthodox Jews are usually portrayed as alien or weird -- and it's rare to see a stand-up in New York from this devout perspective.
"Most of you probably see Orthodox Jews with our beards and sidelocks and funny hats and probably think we're slightly crazy," he said on a radio show called Ashley Blaker's Goyish Guide to Judaism. "But if you got what was involved, you'd realize we're totally crazy."
This is pitched to a mainstream audience, but his live set also caters to an observant Jewish audience, and appealing to both is the challenge of his show. Blaker, a producer at the BBC whose credits include Little Britain, jokes that he might be the only person who works in television who doesn't own one. And after he polled his crowd, it was clear he wasn't the only one without a set. He does not perform during the Sabbath, and in an effort to accommodate religious audiences who do not want to sit next to a member of the opposite sex, some of his performances feature seating segregated by gender.
His jokes attempt the balancing act of translating religious customs for a secular audience while poking fun at the devout in a way that doesn't offend. A major theme is the difficulty of following the word of the Torah in a secular world. "Believe it or not, I never coveted my neighbor's ox," he said, before adding a sneaky aside: "And he did have a nice ox."
Using a verbally dexterous and slightly exasperated delivery evoking that of comedian John Oliver, he specializes in problems of etiquette that arise in an effort to remain devout. Since observant Jews can't use electricity during the Sabbath, what happens when you accidentally leave the bedroom light on and want to go to sleep? He says you have to find a gentile to help, and asking one to come inside your house to turn off a light is difficult to do without seeming like a sociopath.
Some of his funniest bits are about the competitiveness of the forum, explaining how they try to one-up each other about who has the most backward technology. "My mobile is so kosher it doesn't even take phone calls," he says.
Blaker calls himself "the only strictly Orthodox comedian in the U.K.," but Orthodox Jewish comedy is growing worldwide, particularly in Israel. An article on Israel news site Haaretz on the trend of ultra-Orthodox comedians explains one reason: As the population has grown, it's become more integrated into Israeli society and a leisure culture has developed. Some argue that it's precisely the restrictive nature of Orthodox life that makes it ripe for comedians. "When you have 613 laws, this is fertile ground for jokes," satirist Kobi Arieli told Haaretz.
Indeed, Blaker has said in interviews that he didn't find success until he became strictly Orthodox. The experience of becoming religious, he has said, gave him a subject he wanted to explore onstage. And he exploits the unusual tension of a man from a modest, conservative culture telling jokes. Strictly Unorthodox begins with an empty stage and audio from what sounds like a rabbi warning the audience that the following show may not be kosher. This sense of the forbidden can be a helpful foil in comedy, which Blaker clearly understands, poking fun at his tribe but carefully, never going too far. His amiable act doesn't question religious dogma with any persistence or engage with doubters. The only time he truly engages is in his promotion.
Before the show's run, his publicist sent out a news release saying that ads for his show have been rejected by the religious media, one of which he said refused to even use the word "theater." His producer Mike Leigh called it "religious correctness gone mad."
Whether secular audiences used to more overtly button-pushing Jewish satire like that of Larry David (Curb Your Enthusiasm, HBO) will enjoy Blaker's gentle observational comedy is unclear. Since we rarely hear the perspective of the ultra-Orthodox in comedy clubs, there's a pleasing freshness about an act that offers a look into a world often hidden from public view. His religious fans, some of whom rarely see stand-up or mainstream comedy, may also find him a change of pace. His deft crowd work provides a window into his challenges. When he asks a man in the front row, what's the first thing he associates with the BBC, Blaker's employer, the response was "anti-Semitism."
Blaker did not appear surprised by this answer. He nodded, said he avoids the subject of Israel and added that he had never seen any examples of bigotry against Jews as long as he worked at the BBC. This was a difficult crowd for a comic, an audience that started quiet, was even cautious about laughing, but he gradually won them over. He is proof that even the most reverent enjoy a little irreverence.
Religion on 06/16/2018