THE SKINNY
Neurodiversity in Comedy Comedy
Neurodiversity is having a moment on the comedy scene. We speak to several neurodiverse comics from across the UK to ask if the changes we’re currently seeing may herald genuine change in the wider cultural sphere Words: Emma Sullivan
Photo: Roweena Russell
Photo: Steve Best
July 2021 — Feature
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ith several high-profile comedians recently revealing their neurodiversities (Josie Long discussing ADHD and Fern Brady and Hannah Gadsby both sharing their autism diagnoses among others) there’s an increasing sense that neurodiversity is becoming both more visible, and more freely acknowledged within the comedy scene. Tired tropes about neurodiversity still dominate the culture at large – with autism in particular a target for cheap laughs – yet comedy is a place in which marginalised groups can freely address mainstream preconceptions. For Scottish comedian Ross Leslie, who was diagnosed with autism in 2014 and has long been open about his experiences, “a lot has changed in the last ten years.” Kate Fox, whose work straddles both stand-up and performance poetry, says that even in 2019, her autism diagnosis was met with disinterest during discussions with producers. Starting in 2020, however, the same people recognised that “it was something with wider appeal and interest." Stand-up Joe Wells agrees: “You can date what you read almost to the year by the way the conversation has changed. Not just comedy – there were so many books last year written by neurodivergent writers.” But he’s quick to point out that “there’s always a risk of transience with social movements. Last summer everyone was passionately anti-racist. Anyone who’s not directly invested in it moves on.” Don Biswas, who has dyspraxia, echoes this, and argues that the gains won’t be permanent until the issue is embedded in the curriculum. Ashley Storrie, meanwhile, is arguably at the forefront of this new wave of visibility. Starring as a young autistic woman in her new BBC Three pilot, Dinosaur, she’s very aware of the historical lack of representation around neurodiversity. She describes hungrily scouring pop culture growing up, looking for characters she could relate to. As a teenager she loved the Fox series Bones, whose eponymous lead Storrie was sure was autistic. Although it’s never explicitly mentioned, “she struggles with emotions, she’s very interested in one subject and nothing else.” Another touchstone was Abed Nadir Don Biswas
Kate Fox
in Community, who has similar traits. The hope is that Nina, Storrie’s character in Dinosaur, will, like Abed, get the chance to develop over the space of a series. Storrie describes the experience of playing the character as hugely liberating. Nina is undiagnosed, and lives her life without attempting to mask her autism. Inhabiting the character’s total lack of apology was a revelation – “it switched a switch in my brain” – and made her realise that “maybe I wouldn’t be so anxious and tired all the time if I weren’t constantly living to please other people.” Storrie recognises the circularity of the process (“a snake eating its own tail”) where effective masking results in disbelief when you do acknowledge your diagnosis. The familiar notion that “you don’t act like an autistic person – why are you lying?” can trap someone further into the exhausting business of “pretending to be normal.” For Joe Wells, the aim is to get beyond the valorisation of ‘normal’, and instead move towards a genuine celebration of difference. He mentions a post-show discussion with a parent of an autistic child, who felt it was important the child was reassured ‘he was normal’, but Wells disagreed: “He’s not normal – it’s not important to be normal. Being normal is not inherently better.” The problem remains that the dominant social attitude to neurodiversity is that “it’s a bad, debilitating illness; a tragedy even”, and when parents say that they’ve got an autistic child, the standard response is still commiseration. Parents are expected to mourn the loss of something – it’s seen as a form of ‘bereavement’, a mindset that is obviously very damaging for neurodivergent children. Wells’ recent viral video models the overturning of this value system beautifully, deftly reversing the usual tropes of patronising pity so that they are
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