Women are having a moment in China’s stand-up comedy scene.

Stand-up shows on Chinese TV channels and streaming apps have long been a man’s world. In 2017, just one out of every 10 contestants was a woman. But this year, about two-fifths of the comedians on “Stand-Up Comedy and Friends” and “Kings of Stand-Up Comedy” — broadcast on Tencent Video and iQiyi, respectively — are women.

And they are a hit. Bu Jingyun, for example, had just modest performances in previous seasons, but achieved instant stardom this year with her sharp eight-minute deconstruction of the concept of chastity, and her indignant critique of slut-shaming women with made-up stories.

Or take Director Fang, a middle-aged rural woman who rose from the audience to take the stage and talk about the gendered violence of rural society, vividly recreating the daily plight of underprivileged women. Another contestant, Xiha, debuted and immediately succeeded in shattering societal stereotypes about flight attendants. With just one performance, she persuaded several airlines to change their regulations requiring flight attendants to wear high heels and short skirts.

Each of the female comedians featured in the two stand-up comedy competitions refined their life experiences into a powerful textual blade, piercing social prejudices, stereotypes, and patriarchy. After approximately a decade of offline performances, followed by a decade of online variety shows, stand-up comedy has taken root in China, and flourished. But this year marks the first time that female actors have collectively exploded, constantly sparking heated discussion way beyond the walls of the venues where they perform.

Scholars and state-owned media have also viewed the rise of female talk show performers with initial acclaim. Xinhua, CCTV, Phoenix Television, the Global Times, CGTN, China Daily, and other media outlets all hailed the emergence of what they dubbed the “first generation of female stand-up comics.” Tsinghua University scholar Xue Jing pointed out in a 2022 paper that the now-canceled “Rock & Roast” had evolved from “speaking about women” to “women speaking.” This process, she concluded, “continuously pushes gender equality forward in China.”

Whenever an opening act becomes a headliner, such as female stand-up comedy performers, rappers, and breakdancers coming to the forefront of China’s cultural consciousness, a wave of rejoicing follows. After all, increased female participation in all the varied forms of cultural expression must indicate a certain level of tolerance and openness in the society that houses it. Yet, it bears remembering that female performers taking the stage in variety shows does not mean that the cultural logic underpinning these shows has undergone some dramatic shift, that women are now respected more, or that everyone now champions gender equality.

For those who bankroll comedy reality shows, gender equality may not be as important as drawing viewers. Over the past five years, female-themed films, television shows, books, songs, and dramas have all gained popularity, sparking a “she culture” craze. A prime example is Japanese feminist author Chizuko Ueno, who became a best-selling sensation in China and even came to represent a kind of social and cultural common sense.

Therefore, I believe the increasing number of female comedians appearing on stand-up shows stems less from the production team’s awakening gender awareness and more from their grasp of she culture economics. Today, China’s stand-up comedy scene is less a platform for expressing opinions than a strictly defined business. Two recent industry reports show that the audience of variety shows is now majority women. If the audience is dominated by women, it follows that women are more likely to dominate the stage.

Besides, putting women on the stand-up stage could be seen as a “politically correct” choice, but it does not necessarily mean they are getting the leading roles in everyday life — just as Hollywood movies or TV ads featuring more actors of color do not reflect the direction of American politics. Such displays are an attempt to showcase the diversity and vibrancy of a harmonious society. But web variety shows are not designed to present a complete set of values; they are a hodgepodge of cultures and varying worldviews.

What we must pay attention to is the meticulous process that accompanies every breakout performance of a female stand-up comedian. Capital desires the traffic and engagement from women’s stories but fears the genuine power they hold, and the risks they might unleash.

In addition, there is the chilling effect exerted by the audience. When female performers incorporate real-life experiences in their work, social media users often accuse them of “inflaming gender conflict.” Data shows that 30% of female stand-up comedy performers have experienced cyberbullying after discussing gender topics. Yet when they tone down their rhetoric, other social media users accuse them of “compromising” or “selling out.” This has led to many female comics producing “milder,” or more well-trodden, material, compared to the unfiltered words that first won them acclaim. This dulling of claws may not be because of a rapid decline in creativity or an inability to sustain it. Instead, it may be the result of powerlessness and lassitude in the face of constant blowback.

Female stand-up comedy performers walk a difficult tightrope. On one hand, outspokenness leads to attention, and attention paves the way to the big stage. On the other hand, what awaits them on the big stage is intense scrutiny from capital and consumers alike. Pushing against content boundaries somehow, somewhere, results in their hard work going to waste, their “disappearance” from TV and streaming shows, or even threatens the survival of the industry itself. After all, the arena in which stand-up comics compete is built via contest and compromise between policy, capital, and the market. Entering this arena means playing by the rules of its builders. Venturing out of bounds risks disqualification.

Capital packages lucrative products with slogans proclaiming the “she era.” Streaming platforms use labels like “diversity” to cover up strict regulations. And all the while, female performers make what jokes they can while staying within the lines. Controversies surrounding female stand-up comics this season have laid bare internal conflicts between these stakeholders, and they bear the scars of struggle, resistance, and compromise.

There may be a day when female comics no longer stir controversy, but not necessarily because the performers have won. It could mean that they have learned how to play the game, that they have drifted towards the market’s center, and that their products have become harmless, safe for daily consumption.

There are still, however, many female comics dedicated to seeking out spaces offline. These performers look for diverse opportunities, refuse to modulate their critical and realistic voices, and stand up for their compatriots. This leads me to believe that this type of new “alt-culture” will not be easily subsumed. I have long been an advocate for deplatforming talk shows. These shows can thrive underground, drawing upon the quotidian and highlighting the linguistic and cultural diversity of our country. That is where the real opportunity lies.

Translator: Gabriel Kwan. 

(Header image: Visuals from @脱口秀和Ta的朋友们 and @爱奇艺喜剧之王单口季 on Weibo and VCG, reedited by Sixth Tone)