If Dave Chappelle is a genius, why does his comedy punch down on trans people?
A friend recently invited me to a Dave Chappelle performance in Yellow Springs, about an hour north of Cincinnati. I passed. I didn't know what his routine would be, but I knew what I didn't want to hear.
Chappelle is a masterful storyteller and one of the most talented comedians of our time. But his comedy increasingly leaves me uneasy − not because it's edgy, but because it too often reinforces the very prejudices it claims to poke fun at.
I first felt this discomfort when Chappelle made a name for himself joking about Black people in ways that gave license to racists. I watched White audience members laugh a little too hard at sketches that, while brilliantly crafted, seemed to permit them to enjoy stereotypes they weren't supposed to say out loud.
Chappelle himself later acknowledged this dynamic, and even walked away from a $50 million deal and his hit show on Comedy Central, "Chappelle's Show," when he saw people laughing with the characters instead of at the racism.
But in his recent stand-up, Chappelle has shifted his focus toward the LGBTQ+ community, especially transgender people, and I feel that same uneasiness again. Once more, I see people who likely hold deep biases laughing with a sense of vindication. "If Dave Chappelle can say it," they think, "so can I."
Opinion: Don't take Dave Chappelle down. Lift transgender voices up.
When the joke punches down, the harm hits hard
This isn't about being offended. It's about what comedy does. The best comedy punches up − it challenges power, exposes hypocrisy and speaks truth. But when it punches down, it can legitimize cruelty and reinforce systems of exclusion.
Opinion: Pride reminded me capitalism can't save us from Trump. Only we can do that.
Chappelle insists he's just telling the truth. But truth without compassion can sound a lot like contempt. When that contempt is aimed at groups already struggling to be seen and heard, it becomes more than a joke. It becomes part of the problem.
So no, I won't attend the show. I admire Chappelle's genius. But I can't pretend not to see the cost of his notoriety, especially when it's borne by the people who are already fighting to be treated with dignity.
We should all ask ourselves: When we laugh, who's hurting?
Dennis Doyle lives in Anderson Township and is a member of the Board of Contributors at the Cincinnati Enquirer, where this column originally appeared.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
16 minutes ago
- Yahoo
Last Surviving Cast Member of Popular TV Show Dies at 89
One of the most popular sitcoms of all time has brought laughs to several generations of fans, but those fans are now mourning the loss of the show's final surviving cast member. Kenneth Washington, who played Sergeant Richard Baker on the final season of "Hogan's Heroes," died on July 18 at the age of 89. Washington joined the show in its sixth and final season, replacing Ivan Dixon in the role of Sgt. Baker in 1970. The show would end the following year, but his role in the popular series was a gateway for Washington to appear in other popular shows. In addition to his role on "Hogan's Heroes," Washington also appeared in the original "Star Trek" series with George Takei and William Shatner. He was seen in multiple episodes of "Adam-12" in the 1960s with actors like Martin Milner. "Hogan's Heroes" aired on CBS for six seasons in the 1960s and 70s. The show was set in a Nazi Germany POW camp and followed a group of Allied soldiers who used the camp as a base to plan operations. Bob Crane starred as the titular Col. Robert E. Hogan, the main protagonist of the show. The show aired over 160 episodes during its original run, and has entertained fans for years through both local and national syndication. The show was nominated for several awards during its run, including 12 nominations in the Emmys. It won twice, with Werner Klemperer taking the outstanding supporting actor honor in both 1968 and 1969. "Hogan's Heroes" was also included in the first-ever NAACP Image Awards as an example of positive representation from Black actors on screen in 1967. Washington also appeared in the original film adaptation of "Westworld," alongside western legend Yul Brynner. His film career spanned several decades, beginning in the mid-1950's. In one of the final roles of his career, he was a guest star on an episode of "A Different World," the Cosby spin-off set at a fictional historically Black college. Rest in peace to Kenneth Washington, and we send condolences to his fans, friends, family and loved ones during this difficult time. Last Surviving Cast Member of Popular TV Show Dies at 89 first appeared on Men's Journal on Jul 23, 2025 Solve the daily Crossword
Boston Globe
an hour ago
- Boston Globe
Our Brother Theo: An Appreciation of Malcolm-Jamal Warner
As a latchkey kid and the only child in my home, I felt raised by television and was lucky to have a big brother in Theo Huxtable. He showed me what I had yet to see or dream. And he had siblings like me by the thousands. Jonathan L. Allen counts himself among them. Advertisement 'He was smart, funny, witty, and for me, even now reflecting on his legacy, I am still seeing the degree to which my own imagination was expanded about who I could be and what was possible just by seeing him on that screen.' As cofounder of 'Theo was living a life within the show where his parents had graduate degrees. This is what we want at Leadership Brainery, what we desire to see and be able to achieve. On that show, Theo had dyslexia and they called that episode 'Theo's Gift.' To see those challenges as gifts and see those challenges with grace, and to lead how to have tough conversations around education and still overcome them? Malcolm himself was a gift.' Advertisement It's been a hard week for the Xennial pop culture collective. Ozzy Osbourne died at 76. Hulk Hogan died at 71. And our dear brother Malcolm-Jamal Warner died at 54, almost a month before his 55th birthday. They were all legends in their own ways. Few entertainers can live up to the myths we make about them as we create giants of our greats. Warner did. Beyond his role on 'The Cosby Show,' outside of any role he played, Warner exhibited genuine character. On Def Poetry Jam, he celebrated Black love and Black women. In interviews and on stages through music, poetry, and dialogue, he spoke out on the importance of fighting negative stereotypes and living in loving truths. He brought people together. Nick Bates, director of 'A lot of us didn't just watch 'The Cosby Show,' we were able to experience certain fundamental experiences through him, through a nuclear family. We see him go from boyhood to manhood.' Some years ago, Bates joined a virtual brotherhood of fathers and men dedicated to cultivating community for a better future. 'Malcolm-Jamal Warner came in and dropped really pointed and meaningful words about fatherhood and being a husband. It's always been fascinating for us to cultivate a variety of ways that maleness can look beyond toxic masculinity. Malcolm-Jamal Warner showed us the possibilities through his characters, and he did that in real life.' Advertisement The Huxtables had an impact well beyond 1992, when the last episode of 'The Cosby Show' aired. James 'Avenue' Fitzpatrick, a Boston rapper and cofounder of 'Theo was like a big brother,' he said. 'He was cool, he was intelligent, and self-aware at a young age. As a child, I noticed that. I remember the first time I saw Malcolm-Jamal Warner host 'Showtime at the Apollo,' and I saw him in music videos like New Edition's 'N.E. Heart Break.' Are you sure that show ended in 1992?' It was so present in his home, he didn't notice it was reruns he was watching throughout most of the '90s until this week. Warner, the man, and Warner in his portrayal of Theo are so filled with palpable love, joy, and authenticity that love lives in us now. Still present. We remember in ways that make it hard to believe that show ended 33 years ago. On-air and off, we just kept growing with him. Malcolm-Jamal Warner: our distant brother from another. We give thanks. The Read | Story of the moment Clipse's 'The Birds Don't Sing' and vulnerability HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA - JULY 16: (L-R) Pusha T and Malice of Clipse perform onstage during the 2025 ESPY Awards at Dolby Theatre on July 16, 2025 in Hollywood, California. (Photo by) Kevin Winter/Getty We're still in our feels with the latest Clipse album, and Andscape's Justin Tinsley unpacks some of why A palpable vulnerability reverberates in every lyric, drum kick, and John Legend's haunting vocals. But most importantly for me, 'The Birds Don't Sing' allowed me to do something I have yet to do for one reason or another this year: sit with my grandmother's death. Advertisement The Watch Malcolm-Jamal Warner was and is beloved beyond Theo Huxtable, and this talk on vulnerability he gave for TEDx Talks in 2023, reminds us of who he is and what he stood for. His beautiful resistance was standing in his truth with tenderness and love and joy as he subverted stereotypes. Black parade | The vibes we're on right now Roxbury—08/24/2024 Elvin Gonzalez talks on the phone as his Puerto Rico flag blows in the wind. John Tlumacki/Globe Staff (metro) John Tlumacki/Globe Staff Joy pushas | Holding space for happiness David Chae of by Chae Handout We're celebrating David Chae as our joy pusha this week. He's been dreaming of going into the business of food and beverages since he was 13. A month ago, the 20-year-old debuted He grew up drinking matcha in Korea. He once sold Korean fried chicken out of his kitchen in high school. For him, it's always going to be about sharing a drink or a meal. He posts his locations throughout Greater Boston in his Instagram stories and spends a lot of time studying recipes of all kinds. Chae is starting his third year at Babson College, where he studies business and entrepreneurship. What centers you? Beyond joy, my center is always love. I am a huge believer in doing something I love for the rest of my life, loving and eating food, and sharing that, whether I am cooking it or sharing a restaurant recommendation, that is where I feel joy. Now I am making something people enjoy and it becomes a daily routine, and that is one of the best feelings ever. What makes your life a beautiful resistance? There are a lot of people who are worried about how hard this will be for me with school and give me reasons about why it wouldn't work, but I have realized that optimistic thinking and believing in myself and understanding small fails and winning big is the most successful part of my journey. Advertisement Another issue comes up every day, but I think about the next possible optimizing action, and it helps me be better at what I am doing to overcome. It's mentally exhausting being a business owner, but I believe that whether you are 20, 40, or 60, the only thing that is going to limit you is your mindset. Block the noise. Be resistant. Focus on what you do. Fresh finds | Supporting businesses owned by folks of color Mattapan has flowers. Beautiful blooms reside in Boston Flower Co., a floral and workshop studio by Yanique Shaw. Custom floral design has long been her forte. Now there is a brick-and-mortar space for everyday access to stems that blossom with joy. Learn more at What makes your life a beautiful resistance? Jeneé Osterheldt can be reached at
Los Angeles Times
3 hours ago
- Los Angeles Times
New Jonathan Demme biography spotlights director's clashes with powerful stars — and his humanity
Before he set his sights on Hollywood, Jonathan Demme studied to become a vet. Movies may have mesmerized him since childhood, but animals were his 'parallel obsession,' writes film journalist David M. Stewart in 'There's No Going Back,' an uneven biography of the Oscar-winning director of 'The Silence of the Lambs.' In the end, chemistry classes proved too hard, and only one animal sustained Demme's interest long enough: the Alligator, the University of Florida newspaper that let him contribute film reviews. A career as a veterinarian was abandoned in favor of the movies. Demme, who died in 2017, forged a career defined by films that centered voices from society's ever-shifting margins. He spotlighted women ('Swing Shift'), Black people ('Beloved') and HIV-positive gay men ('Philadelphia') in narratives that celebrated their trials through an empathetic camera lens. Interspersed among Hollywood projects were documentaries such as 'The Agronomist,' on Haiti's only independent radio station; 'Right to Return,' about Hurricane Katrina victims fighting to access their homes again; and 'Stop Making Sense.' Demme himself witnessed the difficulty those at society's fringes faced entering spaces men (often white) had claimed and refused to relinquish. His grandmother retold rose-tinted stories of building aircraft equipment during World War II before being forcibly relegated back to her domestic life. Growing up Miami's Overtown neighborhood, Demme saw how Black people created their own unique 'music and communal energy' during segregation, a culture he would repeatedly honor in his own films. After college, Demme landed a publicity job at United Artists. During a chance encounter chauffeuring François Truffaut around, the master auteur told the desperate factotum that he had an eye for directing. Demme insisted he wasn't interested in being a director, even after the French filmmaker inscribed his copy of 'Hitchcock.' 'Yes, you are,' was Truffaut's reply. Despite these early protests, Demme moved west to Hollywood, working for B-movie producer Roger Corman on films such as the 1971 bike picture 'Angels Hard as They Come' and the salacious 1973 prison escape story 'Black Mama White Mama' before he directed 'Caged Heat' with a feminist take on the women-in-prison film that embraced satire and progressive politics. Demme directed socially conscious projects during the 1970s, tackling the disenfranchised and forgotten through action and comedy tales. 'Crazy Mama,' about a housewife intent on exacting vengeance on the men who murdered her husband, highlighted Demme's desire to recognize women's ongoing struggles against a patriarchal world. 'Fighting Mad' and 'Citizens Band' (subsequently titled 'Handle with Care') touched on corporate greed, ecological destruction and finding human connection in small-town America. 'Melvin and Howard' won two Oscars and was nominated for a third. But in an experience that would unfortunately repeat itself, the Goldie Hawn-produced 'Swing Shift' was a deeply demoralizing project for Demme. He had wanted to make a 'feminist perspective of women during wartime,' writes Stewart, while Hawn had imagined the film as a sugary rom-com. The veto power Hawn had meant the entire ending was reshot, mostly sapping Demme's dream of its political message. A decade later, Demme would suffer similar strife on the set of 'Beloved,' quarreling with Oprah Winfrey over aspects of characterization in the supernatural slavery epic. ( Winfrey told Stewart that she was banned from viewing the dailies for a brief period.) But creative comfort was found, as Demme repeated over the years, in music. There was his Talking Heads concert film 'Stop Making Sense' and several Neil Young concert films; 'Something Wild,' a Melanie Griffith movie he made after 'Swing Shift,' prominently featured Jamaican singer Sister Carol and her cover of 'Wild Thing.' Still, it was his passion for female protagonists who were 'reliable in a world of lying men' that also fueled his output, if only partly dealt with in Stewart's shorthand approach. 'The Silence of the Lambs,' 'Rachel Getting Married' and 'Ricki and the Flash' each etched, in equal parts, the strength and vulnerability of a different women — battling the criminal justice system, besieged by addiction and estranged from family — who reject victimhood as an option. 'There's No Going Back' stresses it's not a definitive biography but an effort to 'understand Demme as a filmmaker.' If Stewart can be forgiven for the light detail on Demme's upbringing for this reason (only a few pages), he is less absolved for his inconsistent, often abridged, treatments of Demme's films and what messages to glean from a long view of the director. Patchy approaches — 'Rachel Getting Married' gets some dissection with minimal production detail, while 'The Silence of the Lambs' gets extensive production detail with no film analysis — doesn't help extract Demme's thematic throughlines as a filmmaker. To end the book with his passing and without any final remarks only compounds this problem. What does somewhat redeem 'There's No Going Back' is the detail given on Demme's lifelong activism. Starting first with the freedom of expression movement, Demme moved to documenting Haiti's transformation from a dictatorship to a democracy in several energized documentaries. If political connections aren't always made back to his dramatized films, appreciating how Demme championed voices from the likes of Haiti and in the aftermath of Katrina does at least highlight his lifelong advocacy of society's most forgotten — on- and off-screen. When Demme was a young boy, his mother told him to write about the movies he so ardently watched 'to uncover the secrets behind the magic.' It may be an unfortunate irony then that this same advice Stewart recounts proves largely absent in 'There's No Going Back.' While well-intended and admiring, the biography often proves facile, showing difficulty reckoning with Demme's oeuvre and its deeper political and cinematic lessons. The book has still set some of the groundwork for a future project that may more adeptly synthesize life with art. Smith is a books and culture writer.
