<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="65001"%> Helen Hong

OCT/NOV 09

THE COMEDIANS
Pat Dixon
Helen Hong
Steve Mazan

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Helen Hong

written by Ken Carlson



“A lot of people are surprised that comics off stage,” says comedian Helen Hong, “tend to be shy, awkward and introverted. I think the best comedians are. Comedy’s all about observation. If you’re the class clown that everybody’s looking at, you’re not observing the weird, bizarre, funny things that make good comedy. You’re the show.”

When you’re on the outside looking in; perhaps like a new performer finding your way in the comedy world, or an immigrant starting a new life in a different country, you undoubtedly are better equipped to describe an essential component of everybody’s social makeup; the need to belong. While this may run headlong against the desire to do stand-up, to set yourself apart from the crowd and be heard as an individual, if you’re able to translate that feeling into laughs as Helen Hong has, the effect can be refreshing.

“Her charm is disarming,” says comedian Yamaneika Saunders. “She has the ability to instantly make a crowd feel welcomed and relaxed. Her view on everyday life, and the trials of being a 20-something single in NYC is dead on, which is why people love her. She says what we are all thinking.”


Many comics are spurred to give stand-up a shot to escape their dreary day job. The thought of trudging into that office, factory, or courtroom one more day... But few would place television production in that category, as Helen did five years ago.
“I had just finished an awful job with the Jane Pauley Show,” says Hong. “It was syndicated, but produced by NBC. It was one of the worst jobs I ever had. I thought, God, is this all there is, all my life will be? I’d always wanted to take a stand-up class. I’d taken improv classes before and didn’t really connect with it. But I’d always had a penchant for comedy, didn’t have anything else going on, so I tried it. I took a class at Caroline’s and fell in love with stand-up; hook, line, and sinker. The graduation class is doing an actual show at Caroline’s. We had a full house, maybe 200 people for an afternoon bringer show. I was so nervous, sweating, my heart pounding in my chest. It was such a high for me and I never turned back. It was never even a question in my mind. This was what I had to do with the rest of my life. I loved it! Love, love, loved it!”

Hong has stuck with her broadcasting work on a freelance basis, directing episodes of TLC’s What Not To Wear to supplement her modest comedy income. “I can’t complain,” she says of her work for TLC. “The money’s great. It’s kind of glamorous, and it’s not a really boring job. It allows me to feel less of the money pressure. Starting out in stand-up, there’s not a lot of cash in it, even if you’re really hustling. It’s good and bad in that, without a gun to my head, I don’t hustle more about getting more gigs, more of a fan base, more road work. On the other hand, it’s good I don’t have that gun to my head. I’m a pretty anxious person. If I had money as an anxiety, I’d be worried about it all the time and not having as much fun. I still see stand-up as my way to make a living, as the craft I love.”

Hong started out doing bringer shows and open mikes around the city. Now she’s booking slots outside of the city in places like Long Island, Pennsylvania, and Connecticut that she can reach by public transportation. The more she performs, and the more she appears in less diverse areas than New York City, the more she has seen the need to talk to audiences about an important issue.

“It is unusual to see, not only an Asian comedian, but an Asian female comedian,” says Hong. “If you’re thinking about seeing a night of comedy, you usually expect to see a bunch of white guys or a bunch of black guys. Maybe one woman. That’s the average comedy show. To see an Asian woman is unusual. I have to address it early on; almost the first thing I say has to be about being Asian. If I don’t address it right off the bit, the crowd gets a little jittery. I was given some advice by Wali Collins [veteran comic]. He told me when I first started, ‘You have to address the fact you’re an Asian woman within the first twenty seconds of hitting the stage.’ At the time I wasn’t doing that. I was doing my first joke. I thought they should accept me for what I am. Since I’ve started doing what he said, it definitely puts the audience more at ease. It’s the same concept if you’re a comic with something unusual about you. If you have a club foot or are bald, you should address it or it will be a distraction. They’re thinking about it. They want to know that you know they’re thinking about it. Addressing it neutralizes it. It’s a little bit limiting for me. There’s only a handful of openers I can do because I have to address that I’m Asian. But, it’s definitely tried and true. After five years, if I don’t address it at the top, it becomes a distraction.”


The issue of race is a key component to her act. Not just by who she is, but also with what she thinks is funny and absurd about our society. “There’s also discomfort about race,” says Hong. “We, as Americans, have such a hard time grappling with race. People say to me the most inappropriate things all the time and don’t even realize it. Last night at this benefit, some woman I was just chatting with before the show, said, ‘Well, if you weren’t here, you’d be giving manicures! Ha! Ha! Ha!’ She thought she was being funny in front of comedians. Being a comedian, I don’t take offense to most things, but it was absolutely inappropriate. I don’t get really confrontational, unless it’s glaringly offensive. This was mildly annoying. People say that kind of stuff all the time. I was trying to hire a lawyer once. This was a business transaction with someone I had never met in my life. I was speaking to him on the phone to see if he’d be the right person to handle a legal process for me. Out of nowhere, he says, ‘I’m sorry if the line is really loud. I’m at the grocery store. My trophy Asian wife made me go to the store for her. I dumped my matronly Jewish wife and got myself a hot trophy Asian wife! You’d appreciate that.’ What? Here was this white guy, who I guess was married to this Asian trophy wife, and he felt the need to say something sexually about her. Are you insane? Goodbye!”

Often, Hong will relay these episodes and take them to their absurd conclusions, using one of the canons of improv – that if this is true, then what else is true – if someone said this to her, then what else might they say that’s even more inappropriate. “I try to make that satirical for the audience,” says Hong. “Some audiences don’t pick up that it’s satire. They think I’m giving them license to be racist. ‘Oh, she’s like the Asian person who likes it when we make fun of Asian people.’”

“Helen is fearless especially for a newer comic,” says comedian Joe DeVito. “Whenever I work with her, she says something that makes me laugh, roll my eyes and say, ‘Oh my God!’ all at the same time.”

“Helen is a sweetheart!” says comedian Liz Miele “She amazes me because she has only been doing comedy for maybe five years and already she is a regular at some of the best clubs in the city, opening for people on the road and seems to know everyone!!! She has a very honest perspective on life. Very open. She has nothing to hide! She is an amazing ad-libber and wordsmith on the cuff. She’s great to work with and very generous with her time. We do tons of shows together in the city and try to bring each other on the road when we can. It’s always a great experience. I don’t know what else to say. She’s funny and only gonna get funnier without a doubt.” 

“Listen, I understand, my job as a comedian, first and foremost, is to make you laugh,” says Hong. “It’s not to make you think, not to teach you a lesson, show you a new way to think about the world. My job is to help you have a good time and make you laugh. If, while you’re doing that, I can help you with a new way to see the world, help enlighten you about something. Great! I’d love to do that. If not, at least I made you laugh. I did my job.”

As Hong puts in more time, she’s moving up through the ranks, from MC to middling at many shows, and appreciates the different challenges involved. “When I first started MC-ing on the road,” says Hong, “I learned so much. Every time I MC’d, I learned such crucial skills; of being personable, thinking on the fly, trusting my instincts, riffing in the moment; just connecting with the crowd. Middling has a different cadence to it. You shouldn’t do so much crowd work. You should just rely on the strength of your material in order to do longer sets.”

But for someone who has been successful in another business, as Hong has been in broadcasting, stand-up can be frustrating in that there is no specific way to move forward. “I’m a pretty linear person in my way of thinking,” says Hong. “This is what I should do first, then I should do that. Comedy is nothing like that. There’s no one path to success, to the next level. It’s not like being a lawyer: first I go to college, then take the GMAT, then of to law school and take the Bar. You know your path and where you’re going.”

One method’s that’s tried and true, especially in New York, is host your own show and get the press to take notice. For Hong, it’s been K-DATE, downtown at COMIX, a comedy show that includes “Laughter & Matchmaking, Korean Style.”

“COMIX approached me last year,” says Hong, “saying they had an Asian promoter who said he could produce a strong Asian crowd, and asked if I was interested in putting on a show for them. I’ve done every Asian show in New York City, and they’re not great. Asians don’t really support comedy in that way. The notion of an Asian show doesn’t work in the way that a Latin show works. At a Latin show, you could have a Mexican comic, a Dominican comic, and a Puerto Rican comic; all of them share a language, parts of shared culture and commonalities. Everybody gets that and will enjoy the show. Asian culture is nothing like that. There’s no shared language. There’s no shared culture beyond chopsticks and rice. Beyond that, the Japanese language is nothing like Korean or Indian. It’s all different. It’s too broad. If you focus on niche nationalities, the crowd is too small; like just a Korean show, how many Koreans are there in New York City who come to a comedy show? Not that many. So, I needed a hook for Asians that wasn’t just about comedy. So I thought about this thing they do in Korean nightclubs, ‘booking’ or forced matchmaking. Basically, waiters are literally dragging people around the room to get them to meet each other. It’s a great ice breaker, especially for east Asians where their culture is so closed off. They don’t really go up to somebody in a bar and say, ‘Hey baby, what’s up?’ It was a shot in the dark. I had never heard of it being done [in a comedy club]. I made a big push and invited all these Asian groups. It’s been a big hit. We’ve been doing it about six months and it’s been a great success. The crowds have been loyal. The shows have been so much fun. It’s a different lineup with five comics every week. The comics have a had a good time. It’s a really good idea if I must say so myself.”

“Helen Hong has the insight and sharp wit to tell the truth,” says comedian Reese Waters, “with the familiarity of an old friend. Her performances are full of action, whether she’s talking or not, she’s always captivating. Helen makes me laugh at things I never knew were funny!”

While Hong has been quick to understand the Manhattan crowds, her work elsewhere has required more effort. “When I first started playing outside New York,” says Hong, “I was so surprised when I found how many of my jokes didn’t work there. Even when I went to LA, a place and go at least a couple of times a year and try to get some spots; there are some jokes that are very New York-centric that only work in New York, which is my fault for writing them. Even outside of LA, there are jokes that are too socially edgy that they don’t get it. They don’t get apartment living. If you have too many jokes about going out with your black friend, gay friend, and drag-queen friend, they’re going to be, like, what? So it’s great to have that mix. The perfect crowd has that mix, like Caroline’s or Gotham.”

For Hong, New York is a place of extra importance for her. She spent much of her childhood here, although she was born outside of town. “I was actually born in Korea,” says Hong. “We came here when I was two. Apparently I was a very chatty toddler. I’ve imagined what it was like, that 20-hour plane ride from Korea to New York. It was a business opportunity for my dad. He was assigned here by his company, an exporting company. It was for a couple of years. They called him back and he said, ‘I don’t want to go. We’re not going.’”

Hong’s parents have been supportive of her decision to get into stand-up. “Much more supportive than you’d expect Korean immigrant parents to be,” adds Hong. “Partially because, they see how happy I am. They saw how unhappy and unfulfilled I was. I was searching for something. What was I supposed to be doing with my life? Now I know. Also, my dad’s a bit of a showman. He loves being the center of attention, loves telling stories. They have cool immigrant stories. My dad’s first meal in America was Kentucky Fried Chicken. He said it was the most delicious thing he’d every tasted. I could imagine that. If I’d never had KFC and was in my 30’s, I’d probably say, ‘Oh my god! This is the bomb!’ Of course, now he won’t touch the stuff. So the fact that I’m doing this makes him proud because he sees that I got it from him a little bit.”

Hong grew up in the city, moving between Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island until high school. Then her family moved to North Andover, Massachusetts, on the New Hampshire border. The move was a harsh adjustment for Helen.

“It was terrible, awful. I had gone to school in New York City,” says Hong. “Huge public schools. Lots of diversity. Lots of Asian kids. Lots of Korean kids. Kids that look me. Then we moved to a tiny, little, shitty town in Massachusetts. My high school was only a fifth of the size from the one in New York. No ethnic diversity. I was one of only two Asian kids. There were only two black kids. That was it for ethnic diversity. It was shitty and I hated it. As much as I hated the experience, it probably fueled a lot of the angst that made me a comic, that feeling of alienation, that feeling of not fitting it, being a quiet observer. It’s probably what drove a lot of my sensibility.”

For more on Helen, visit HelenHong.com.