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J.A.P. HAPPY

Kahaney nails the Jewish kahuna

By Leonard Jacob

Undersexed, oversexed or shopping, Jewish American Princesses—J.A.P.s—have long been the subject of jokes and satire. But The J.A.P. Show: Jewish American Princesses of Comedy is more than four female Jewish comics joking about being undersexed, oversexed or shopping. Created by Cory Kahaney, a grand finalist on NBC’s “Last Comic Standing,” whose career has also flourished in standup on HBO and Comedy Channel specials, the show is about Jewish women giving nachus to the Queens of Comedy that paved the way. The names of these mirth-making monarchs—Belle Barth, Jean Carroll, Totie Fields, Betty Walker and Pearl Williams—may be less familiar than the J.A.P.s Kahaney shares the stage with—Cathy Ladman, Jessica Kirson, Jackie Hoffman, Sherry Davey and Julie Goldman—but through amazing clips from the 1950s and ’60s, you get a sense of their acts and of where J.A.P. comedy began.

NYPress: The title of your show could also describe Saturday in Bloomingdale’s. Where did the idea come from?
Cory Kahaney: I was the opening act for a year for a show called Puppetry of the Penis—they needed 20 minutes. Penis positions, penis tricks … It’s hard doing 90 minutes of cock talk. Because the audience was predominantly gay, women were the opening act—they called us “Fluffer Girls.” Anyway, that’s how I met [producer] David Foster.
[Before that], the message was, if I wanted to make it in Hollywood, I had to Jew it down. I even had one manager say “more New York, less Jew,” and then one night he said, “That was a Jew-free set—you’re there!” And he was right: the more I was New York and the less I was Jewish, the more Hollywood doors would open. But I can’t hide it that well. I look Jewish, I sound Jewish, my humor, my timing—and it was heartbreaking because the people that supported me, who kept hiring me and treated me well and gave me, you know, shrimp cocktail and sent a car, were Jews. I wanted to create something for the community that supported me.

But you could have just showcased yourself. Instead, you’re paying tribute to these early legends.
I figured they’ve done the kings, they’ve done the queens—how about the princesses? I had a meeting with somebody who said [it] was a great idea, but Jewish audiences want more than Jewish women doing standup. They are going to want a story. They’re interested in the schmaltz—the heart and soul of being a Jewish female comedian.

How did you find those old clips?
I started going to the Lincoln Center library and listening to every Jewish female standup I’d never heard of. And I talked to oldtimers at the Friars Club and asked who they liked most in the ’50s. I’d never heard about Jean Carroll, never heard of Pearl Williams, and I knew very little of Totie Fields other than her [leg] amputation. I think I’d heard of Belle Barth because my parents had one of her albums. Each of their stories is so inspiring, I thought it would be great to honor them with their best clips and have a woman that works in their style introducing them. I tend to work autobiographically, so I did Jean Carroll. Jessica Kirson, who is what you’d call a “big act” and hilarious and does incredible crowd work, does Totie Fields.

All the jokes are funny, but somehow they’re funnier if you’re Jewish.
That’s because it’s, “Oh my god, that’s Aunt Mildred!” and “Oh my God, that’s my mother!” You know, at the Friars Club we say we roast the ones we love. I think sometimes, being Jewish women there’s just a lot of pain. Jewish girls see this show, they say “Oh my God, they let me be funny, they invite me to be funny, they welcome funny”—whereas in other cultures, I think it’s a little pushed down, like when Christopher Hitchens wrote in Vanity Fair that women aren’t funny except for ugly, Jewish, fat or gay women. Bette Midler took tons of Belle Barth’s jokes for her act, then drag queens took them, then cross-dressers. The common theme is oppression—having your sexuality pushed down. Jewish women are very sexual.

The 10-year-old boy in front of me loved the show, by the way.
Think about how great it is that this 10-year-old boy saw four women talking about how much they love sex. I mean, now he gets it: I’ve gotta work hard for this; I have to figure out what makes them happy. I think it’s a good thing.

Actors Temple Theatre, 399 W. 47th St. (betw. 8th & 9th Aves.), 212-239-6200; Tues., Thurs. & Sat 8; Wed. 3 & 8; Sun 5. $29.50-$65.
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