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Fox News
07-08-2025
- Entertainment
- Fox News
‘Grandmama from Tennessee' refuses to let Hollywood change her after becoming sitcom star
Leanne Morgan is reflecting on her journey from small-town southern grandmother to sitcom star. The 59-year-old, who was raised in rural Tennessee, always dreamed of becoming a comedian. However, she put her career aspirations on the backburner to prioritize her family life with her husband Chuck Morgan and their three children while occasionally performing at local corporate functions and charity events. In 2019, Morgan was about to accept that she had no real future in comedy when she unexpectedly became a viral sensation and found mainstream Hollywood success in her 50s. Morgan's first Netflix comedy special, "I'm Every Woman," was released in 2023, and her mix of relatable humor and southern charm made her a hit with viewers. Since then, she made her acting debut in the 2025 romantic comedy "You're Cordially Invited," starring Reese Witherspoon and Will Farrell, embarked on a sold-out comedy tour and published a book, "What in the World?! A Southern Woman's Guide to Laughing at Life's Unexpected Curveballs and Beautiful Blessings." The actress, who lives in Knoxville, Tennessee, is now starring in her new self-titled Netflix sitcom "Leanne," which she co-created with Chuck Lorre and Susan McMartin. During an interview with the Hollywood Reporter, Morgan, who describes herself as a "Grandmama from Tennessee," opened up about how she is still learning to stand her ground while staying true to her southern roots and refusing to let Hollywood change her. Morgan recalled how she had previously been approached about creating sitcoms, but the deals ultimately fell through as those involved didn't have a strong understanding of her brand. "With all those deals, I worked with precious people but I'd know in my heart, like, this is not how we are in the south," Morgan told the outlet. "This is not how church people are. This is not how my family is. But when you want something so bad… And they'll tell you, 'We love you,' but then they want to change you. Hollywood people can't help it." "And I don't blame 'em, they don't know my world," she continued. "With this sitcom, at first, they were trying to find their footing, and I was freaked out, but then I thought, 'I've got to give them grace. They're trying to learn me just like I am them.'" "And I was finally able to get to a place where at the beginning of every week, I could [read through a script and] go, 'We wouldn't say that,' or 'This isn't what would happen.' So, I'm finally getting the guts, honey." While speaking with the Hollywood Reporter, Morgan explained that she previously hadn't received much feedback on how to hone her material since she was focused on her family and couldn't spend much time on the comedy circuit. "I was raising these children first," she said. "I wasn't out here grinding. I was doing corporate [gigs] for men that make carpet fiber. They probably spent more on the shrimp than they did on me." Though she was grateful to have an outlet for her comedy, Morgan said that her corporate gigs were "horrible." "They suck the life out of you," she recalled. "These men have been playing golf all day, they're tired, they've probably had alcohol, and I'm up there talking about going on Weight Watchers and how I don't like low-cut panties." Morgan recalled that she was repeatedly rejected by the mainstream comedy world because the industry was seeking "edgy" comedians, and she was perceived as "mom centric." "When I was trying to audition for Aspen or Montreal [comedy festivals] or when Comedy Central would come through, they wanted edgy, and I was in a kitten heel and a pant with a bird on it, talking about how somebody doodied on a T-ball field. They'd say, 'Oh, she's not edgy. She's a mom comic.'" Morgan remembered. "But people in clubs always booked me," she added. "They'd go, 'Keep going. You're unique.'" "Now, Hollywood? Hollywood loves that mom in the kitten heel. They'd see my new 45 minutes and say, 'You've written a sitcom!' Then I'd get there and they'd go, 'Let's make your husband a Hispanic man.' And don't get me wrong, I love Hispanic men. God forbid something happens to [husband] Chuck Morgan, I'm dating a Latino man," Morgan said. "But they'd switch everything up — 'Let's make your daughter on dope, or she wants to make it in a country music and she's on ecstasy' — and I'd be like, 'Have y'all watched my act?!'" Though circumstances prevented Morgan from pursuing her dreams until later in life, she told the Hollywood Reporter that she had no regrets about her choices. "I was meant to raise my children and I think it's the best thing that ever happened," she said. "So many more people can relate to me because I did raise these children and I have gone to Weight Watchers and I don't like my stomach and my husband gets on my nerves." Morgan recalled that her chance at success in the industry finally arrived during the pandemic when people who were craving authenticity resonated with her material. "COVID-19 happened and people wanted to connect with people who were real, and there I was on the back porch talking about fixing my mama something that she could eat after her stroke," Morgan recalled. "And that's me. I talk about taking care of elderly parents, launching children, menopause, and it was a niche that nobody was filling." During her interview with the Hollywood Reporter, Morgan explained that while she candidly tackles many aspects of everyday life in her comedy, she prefers to steer clear of politics. "Honey, if you want to talk about fingernail polish or a spray tan, I'm good at that," she said. "I wouldn't know how to talk about politics." In addition, Morgan noted that her approach was inspired by another southern icon. "I've also had my Dolly Parton to look up to, and, like her, I just don't want anybody to feel uncomfortable," Morgan said. Morgan told the Hollywood Reporter that it took some time for Netflix to recognize her potential, but the streaming platform eventually went all in. Along with "Leanne," Morgan confirmed that she also has two additional comedy specials in the works at Netflix following the success of "I'm Every Woman." "It took 'em a while, but then I got some big guns in my camp who could say, 'Y'all don't have anybody like her,'" she recalled. " I ended up leasing my first [hour] to them, and they've been so precious to me. "I just shot my second one for them, and I've got a deal for a third in 2027," she continued. "And then they gave me this show — me and Chuck Lorre walked in there and I said something about having a weak pelvic floor. I was nervous, and they were basically like, 'What do you want to do? We'll do it.'" The 16-episode Netflix series stars Morgan as Leanne, whose "life takes an unexpected turn when her husband of 33 years leaves her for another woman," according to a logline for the show. "Starting over when you're a grandmother and in menopause isn't exactly what she had in mind, but with the help of her family she will navigate this new chapter with grace, dignity and jello salad." Morgan told the Hollywood Reporter that she and Lorre, the creator behind the mega-hit sitcoms "Two and a Half Men" and "The Big Bang Theory," initially envisioned "Leanne" as a single-camera comedy. "But Netflix said, 'Would y'all please consider doing a multicam and bringing that [format] back?' I thought, 'Don't put that burden on me.' Then they said, 'We'll greenlight it right now if you do.'" Morgan recalled. In an interview with the Netflix outlet Tudum, Morgan weighed in on the challenges of adapting her stand-up routine to a sitcom format with a live studio audience. "This is something I've dreamed of since I was a little girl, and it was just as exciting as I imagined," she said. "Learning a new medium was definitely a challenge — memorizing new scripts every week was totally new for me — but I loved it. As a stand-up, the comedic timing felt natural, and filming in front of a live audience was especially comfortable. By the end of the season, it really felt like home." While "Leanne" is loosely based on Morgan's life, the show is not autobiographical. Unlike her character, who is a recent divorcee, Morgan is happily married to her husband Chuck, whom she wed in 1993. The couple share three children: Charlie, Maggie and Tess. Morgan told the Hollywood Reporter that it was Lorre's idea to make the show a fictionalized version of her life. "He didn't want to base it on my real family, and he liked the idea of starting over because it's a theme that people can relate to," Morgan said. "I balked at first, but I think it's the smartest thing we did because I really would've felt protective over my children, my grandchildren and Chuck Morgan." "And years ago, I met a showrunner on 'Reba,' and that was based on [Reba McEntire's] real life, and she got very protective," she added. "It wasn't a good thing." Morgan recalled that her husband has only taken issue with one of her jokes in all of her years performing stand-up. "There was only one time that he said to me, 'Do not say that,'" she shared. "When I first got started, I'd breast fed a bunch of kids and I wanted to get my breast done, and I said [on stage], 'I want my breasts done, but it's been a bad year in the mobile home industry.'" She continued, "Chuck Morgan was in the mobile home industry, and he said to me, 'I will always take care of you. I could write a check for your breasts right now. I don't want anybody to think I cannot provide for you.'" "That is his purpose, and I never said anything like that again." During a July 2025 interview on "Today," Morgan shared that Jerry Seinfeld boosted her confidence when she was having doubts about her ability to headline a sitcom. "He said, 'Leanne, you go in front of thousands of people every night, you can make them laugh for over an hour. You know what you're doing, you know what's funny, you can do this,'" Morgan recalled Seinfeld telling her. "I know that sounds simple, but it gave me the confidence to think, 'Okay, I can do a sitcom,'" she added. While speaking with the Hollywood Reporter, Morgan shared another piece of advice that she received from Seinfeld. "I've texted everybody I know that's had a TV show, like, 'What if people don't like it?' But Jerry Seinfeld said to me, "Honey, get ready to worry the rest of your life. That's just part of it,'" she said.
Time Magazine
24-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Magazine
She Was a Stay-at-Home Mom in Tennessee. Now She's the Star of a Netflix Comedy
When Carmen McDonald wet her pants, Leanne Morgan took it as a hopeful sign. Morgan was supposed to be hawking Premier jewelry, a now defunct sell-at-parties brand started by a Christian couple in Texas, but instead she was joking about life as a stay-at-home mom in rural Tennessee. 'I had on a short dress. I was pregnant with my second baby, and I bent over and someone could see the seat of my underwear and I just went with it,' says Morgan. Nobody blamed McDonald for losing it. 'Everybody went and got a towel and blotted. And I thought, 'OK, I can make it in Hollywood; Carmen just peed on this couch.'' That was the mid-'90s. Thirty years later, she has finally been proved right. Leanne, a scripted comedy starring Morgan, co-created by Chuck Lorre, the producer of such imperishables as The Big Bang Theory and Two and Half Men, arrives on Netflix on July 31. Her 2024 book, What in the World?, was a bestseller. She was in a movie in January with Reese Witherspoon and Will Ferrell, and has been a guest on all the late-night couches, daytime chat fests, and comedy podcasts. After the success of her 2023 Netflix special I'm Every Woman, two more are coming. And dates on her Just Getting Started tour are selling out. There's an old saying that women can have it all, but not all at once. Comedy came second in Morgan's life because it was and remains her second love. She doesn't remember a time when she didn't want to be a professional comedian, but she also really wanted children. Stand-ups' and parents' busiest hours tend to overlap, so her comedy career has always been the bridesmaid. She considers it divinely ordained that after decades of struggling, the viral video that set the current career fireworks off—a bit about going to a Def Leppard concert with other old people and noticing the lead singer's hernia—landed just as she was dropping her last kid off at college in 2020. The result is that she's a hot new talent at 59. In the last 12 months, Morgan has had a lot of pinch-me moments. John Mulaney came up to her at a party to tell her specifically which of her bits he loved. And when she went on Mulaney's show, David Letterman told her how impressed he was. 'He said, 'Leanne, for anybody to get to this level is just extraordinary, but to do it and raise three children out in the middle of the United States?''' she says. 'He said, 'I commend you.' Morgan, who lives in Knoxville, Tenn., was astonished. 'He was darling,' she adds. 'He was so nervous and would say to me, 'Do you think I'm talking too much, Leanne?'' There's another old saying, about how in comedy, timing is everything. Leanne, a show about a woman whose husband leaves her after 33 years of marriage and the way her family, community, and church help her through—or make it worse—is Morgan's fourth go-round with a TV series based on her comedy. She's had development deals before, including with the guy who made Roseanne and Home Improvement. But nothing made it to pilot. She thinks her humor might have been out of step with the times. 'Modern Family was such a big hit and Fresh Off the Boat and all these other wonderful shows,' she says. 'And ours just seemed flat—you know, she's married and got kids.' The comedian and grandmother of two has some theories on why the culture moved in her direction. Some time during the pandemic, she believes, people got tired of all the filters. 'People want authenticity, and they want to learn who somebody really is,' she says. 'I think that's my advantage.' Her thick-as-a-porterhouse accent is a prime example. She's had complaints from the internet that it's not real. Most people can't pinpoint where it's from. And her first husband suggested diction lessons. (The marriage was very brief.) But she says everyone she grew up with in Adams, Tenn., talks like she does. 'I know it's thick,' she says, pronouncing the last word with two syllables, 'but I think it's made me stand out.' (Another two syllables.) Her routine—stories about her kids, her husband, and her hemorrhoids—also feels real. 'Her accent is her accent, and that adds the flavor,' says Nate Bargatze, another stand-up from the Volunteer State, whose star has risen around the same time as Morgan's, 'but then just being a mom and being married and raising kids, she just has a perspective that is not really being talked about a ton.' Her comic bits are clean but unfiltered. She tried to do the Christian comedy circuit for a while but found it too restrictive. 'You have to walk a line that is just not as truthful,' she says. Plus, it's hard to be funny without making fun of someone or something. She still tries not to be unkind, except to her husband, Chuck Morgan, the 'hateful' book What to Expect When You're Expecting, and the myth of undying libido. 'I gotta be real. I gotta be true, you know, about prostituting myself to my husband so these children have good shoes.' A lot of female stand-ups turn to outré or obscene material to get audiences past the fact that they're women. This is not Morgan's style. Her comedy is gentle. So much so that people thank her for getting them through a hard time, which surprised her. 'They were going through chemo, or their husband left them, or something happened with a child, and they would sit up and watch me,' she says. As America has become more divided politically and economically, and the rate of technological change has accelerated, there is something comforting and unchallenging about Morgan's tales of minor indignities, something that reminds people of how much everyone has in common. 'If you go to a Leanne Morgan show, you're not like, 'I hope this goes good,'' says Bargatze. 'You just go in happy and knowing it's going to be an awesome time.' All of this is not to say that Morgan's life has been like everyone else's. Her parents, who both grew up on tobacco farms, ran a farm and general store in Adams, population 500, before they founded a profitable meat-processing business. The family never celebrated on Thanksgiving Day, because it was peak deer-hunting season and everyone—granddaddies, aunts, neighbors—was needed to cut the carcasses hunters brought in. 'We weren't good help,' Morgan says of her sister and her. 'It smelled bad. We had big hair, and we didn't want to do it.' Morgan's mother, who could skin a deer in two minutes with nothing more than a golf ball and a piece of string, held the business together. After Morgan's first marriage fell apart, she went back to the University of Tennessee to finish her degree in child development and took odd jobs, including one as a waitress, where she met Chuck Morgan. They married and moved to the Appalachian foothills so he could set up his trailer-park business, which he eventually sold. In 2001, he became an executive with the U.S.'s biggest manufactured-home company and the family relocated to San Antonio for three years, where Morgan finally had access to a few comedy clubs. She steeled her nerves for her first open-mic night, and one local club quickly promoted her. Within a year or two, she was an occasional headliner at Cap City Comedy Club in Austin. But it was a slog—a lot of her early career was spent doing charity auctions, so-called Chick Schtick nights, or corporate gigs. 'I would just get on stage anytime anybody would let me,' she says. In the late-'90s and aughts, she tried to get a gig, paid or not, at least once a week. But as recently as 2018, even after her first filmed special, club owners were turning her away. 'They said, 'We love her—she doesn't get drunk and fight in the parking lot—but we're not having her back,'' says Morgan. ''She can't sell a ticket.'' While family life kept Morgan off the circuit, it also provided all her material. In one of her most popular videos, she speculates as to why God made teenage daughters so mean. These days her family doesn't mind, but 'I should have asked before that mean one,' Morgan says. The chief butt of her jokes, Mr. Morgan, has complained only once, when she was starting out. 'I'd had all these children to breastfeed, and I said, 'I would like to get a boob job, but it's been a bad mobile-home year,'' she says. 'He's in sales, and he goes, 'Don't you ever say that I can't provide for you. You know that I could write a check for your breasts right now!'' Mrs. Morgan has forged a career on her own terms, elevated issues of concern to women and been unabashedly and uncompromisingly feminine in a male-dominated industry. Her comic style, forged in the crucible of multilevel-marketing jewelry parties, has been refined by all-female audiences. She talks about sexual acts, which she calls 'nasty things,' in a way that's not aimed to please men. 'When I say that kind of stuff, women throw their purse in the air,' she notes. 'They're having to do it too.' But asked if she's feminist, she has to pause. 'I guess I'm a little bit of a feminist. But I love men,' she says. 'And I need men. I don't want to lift something heavy, and I need health insurance, and I don't want to go work a job every day. I want Chuck Morgan to do that.' Because of her husband, she says, she had time to hone her stand-up without worrying about paying bills or sleeping in her car after far-flung gigs. Her ability to stay close to home has helped her stay original. 'She's kind of untouched,' says Bargatze, who also developed his style in the heartland of America. 'And now that she's built a career, she won't have to change, because clearly, it's working doing it the way that she wants to do it.' There are things that might have been easier if Morgan had gotten famous when she was younger. It took her a while, she says, to nail the finer points of sitcom acting. She'd like to do more movies and thinks voice coaching might help, 'but I don't know if I've got it in me,' she says. And while she no longer has kids at home, this is still an inconvenient moment for a breakthrough; she worried about her aging parents while she was living and shooting in Los Angeles and would like to be 'a real country grandma—cooking and washing and helping with these babies.' Still, Morgan is mostly relieved that success hit when it did. 'I'm glad that it was in my 50s,' she says, 'when I'm too tired to do something awful.'
