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HONOLULU WEEKLY | ![]() |
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| BACK
TO MARGARET CHO |
In
Cho We Trust Margaret Cho / In the early ’90s Margaret Cho burst onto the scene with All-American Girl–the first US sitcom to center on a woman of Asian descent. It was a short-lived series, but it challenged the 90210 ideal of what it looks like to be an American (and without anyone shamefully demanding a copy of her birth certificate for that matter). In her standup she continued to take stabs at stereotypes about gender, race, sexuality–one joke at a time. Fast-forward to a new decade with her latest film Cho Dependent, where the comic continues to use her voice–this time with songs!–as a woman, as an Asian, as a queer. The Weekly went all out with Cho on addictions, head lice and the beauty in “everything.”
Aw, thank you. That’s so nice. [Laughs] Kathy Griffin was just in Hawaii. I recently read she’s going to be on Drop Dead Diva this season. Yeah, she’ll be here soon. She hasn’t filmed it yet, but I’m really looking forward to her coming. She’s a wonderful person. Today, we just had Wanda Sykes on set. I love that we get to have all these great female comics on. Cho Dependent is world premiering at the Honolulu Rainbow Film Festival this year. Margaret Cho and rainbows seem to get along. Yes, I’m excited to have it premiere in Hawaii. I love the place so much. I hope everybody loves it. The film incorporates original music. You’re known largely for stand-up, so this is a different direction for you. You know, I wanted to do an album of really beautiful music, but at the same time was still [true to] what I do as a comic, so it’s just adding onto what I do anyway. The film itself is really the tour of the album. I really loved making the record. It shows in the production value. I was surprised it wasn’t song parodies, which is what I expected. I mean, the album sounds like real music–not that it wouldn’t have sounded like real music otherwise. I don’t know what I’m trying to say, but it’s starting to sound rude. [Laughs] No, no, I know what you mean. It’s very lavishly produced. It’s really all the people I love musically that I listen to all the time whom I’m fortunate enough to be friends with. It was just a lot of different people, different sounds, coming together and doing something funny, but also had a lasting value to it. It was a really ambitious project.
[Laughs] Well, Ani I’ve known for a long time. I toured with her and always had such a great love for her music for many, many years. Some other people I was very good friends with–Jon Brion, Grant-Lee Phillips, Garrison Starr–who I’ve talked about writing with for a long time. I also got to meet some new people as well and work with them and it was just kind of like that. Calling people up and saying, “Hey, let’s do a song.” Some of your singer/songwriter collaborators–Rachel Yamagata, Fiona Apple, Andrew Bird–are known for crafting these really personal, honest songs. But listening to your album, there’s a song you wrote called “Lice” and it struck me. I’ve never been in a poignant long-term relationship, but I have had head lice three times in my life, so that shit is real. Too real. [Laughs] Yes, it’s too real. Also too real is your singing voice. You have a really good voice! I’m from a singing family. My mother is a singer. I grew up within a very church-bound family, so there was a lot of church happening, a lot of music. If anything, that’s probably more of my background than comedy, you know? So I knew I had the physical ability to sing, but didn’t work on it very hard. But people are always very surprised by my voice. They don’t expect it to come out of my, uh, face. I’m real Susan Boyle in that way. Since I’m the One that I Want, the undertone of your comedy has always seemed to be about self-empowerment. Is that the same message with Cho Dependent? I think that the message is really a lot of different things. For instance, it’s talking about addiction, the different forms that you can have–the addiction to drugs, addiction to people, to relationships or an addiction to an idea. The statement behind a lot of the songs are about that. And you know, for me, it’s also a kind of addiction to working, to growing, and to progressing, wanting to change creatively and to challenge myself. That’s cool you’re still able to experiment in your career. Sounds like you’re in a great place creatively. That openness has been present in your work from the start, which makes you hard to define. It’s sort of pointless for me to sit here and ask you, “What is Cho Dependent? Is it songs or is it stand-up? Are you straight or are you gay or are you whatever James Franco is?” Yeah, it’s everything! It’s about everything. We can be gay, we can be straight, and as a comic, we can be ambitious, we can do it all. I think it’s really all about what’s inside your heart and the sincerity you put into it, which is a big deal for me. I love that sentiment about “everything.” Do you think we’re still a labels-driven society or are we moving past that? People are definitely drawn towards labels or want to label themselves and that’s limiting. I don’t think we necessarily need them as readily, but some people find a lot of comfort in labeling themselves. They need that definition and I think that’s fine. I think it’s a matter of staying true to what you want to say and what you want to be. Is that the case for somewhere like Peachtree City, Georgia, where you shoot Drop Dead Diva? It’s very different. I definitely learned a lot living in the South and I really changed. I’ve come to a kind of understanding of why social conservatism exists, what it means and how weird it is in trying to change it from the inside out. What’s great is that I don’t really live in Peachtree anymore. I live in Atlanta, which is such a progressive, queer and liberal city. I’m really proud to be an Atlantan part-time. Not to make a sweeping generalization, but how prevalent is homophobia there? I think it’s totally prevalent outside Atlanta. There’s so much confusion and fear about it. There just isn’t a real community present, so gays feel very isolated in these small southern towns. Southerners all have like, a real solid core of geniality, which is something I really appreciate. There is a great kindness to people. There just needs to be more sensitivity and visibility for gays and lesbians out in these small towns. It’s tough. By talking about your experience as a woman, an Asian and being open-minded sexually, that’s sort of what you do with your comedy. Creating this visibility for those who are “different.” Do you consider yourself to be a political comedian? I think I am political. I mean, I’m a political person, so definitely my comedy is a political statement in and of itself because of who I am and what I’m saying. You know, I think it’s my responsibility to be political as a woman, as an Asian American, as a queer activist, as a comedian–there are a lot of different things I identify as and a lot of those happen to be a part of the “other” category. I definitely need to represent myself and just need to talk because voices are really limited out there. It’s weird to me people could be so shocked a Korean woman is speaking her mind. You know, my grandma is one hundred percent Korean and she’s probably chaining herself to a nuclear power plant as we speak. It’s 10:30 in the morning here, by the way. I love that your grandma is political! That’s really great. I think we definitely need to have more of a voice and for women it’s vital, Asian American women especially. |
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