The Authentic Nori Reed


⤏ IN CONVERSATION WITH AMY SOLOMON
⤏ PHOTOGRAPHY BY
MARGARET LEYVA | ASSISTED BY MARIA ALVAREZ
⤏ STYLING BY
KORI HULSE
⤏ MAKEUP BY
KATIE MANN



When your favorite “up-and-coming” comedian is about to blow up, it’s a double-edged sword. You wish them all the success in the world, of course, but… it’s hard to share. Before, I got to see her perform all the time, and be the cool insider to introduce people to her standup. She was MINE and it’s hard to let them go be everyone’s. This is how I feel about Nori Reed right now. LA locals (and Bay Area locals before that) have long known that she’s the best, but now everyone’s about to know. Nori just finished her first writer’s room (Raven’s Home Season 5) and on September 2 you can catch her in ALAN CUMMING PRESENTS A QUEER COMEDY EXTRAVAGANZA on Showtime. Seems like just the beginning. We can’t wait for the whole world to fall in love with Nori, but please remember that I loved her first.


AMY SOLOMON: I’m so excited for this Alan Cumming comedy special that you shot in New York. Did you just do your set once? 

NORI REED: Yeah. It’s so cool! I’ve gotten to see the cut and it’s essentially unedited. It’s literally just, my set as it was, and that feels so cool. Because I’ve done sets before where I’ve seen the final product and it’s like, they’re cutting punchlines and stuff. Jokes are your babies! You spend years crafting a punchline, to witness an editing team do just a hack job is so annoying.

AS: Have you ever lived in New York? 

NR: Yes, but I’ve never done comedy in New York. I lived in New York for five years but I started comedy in the Bay Area.

AS: Another lifetime.

NR: Yeah. I was just like, a normal person, which is so weird. I didn’t even go to comedy shows. I went to ASSSCAT but that was it.

AS: Does pre-comedy Nori feel like a different person?

NR: Oh 100%. In college, I never took creative classes. I was a psychology and visual arts major. I never took any performing classes or writing classes or anything like that. But I really did feel like that was all brewing inside me, and I always made my friends laugh so much. I was always kind of a clown, but it wasn’t until I moved to the Bay Area and took a class that I was like oh, I’m good at this, I love it, and I just got hooked. Immediately just hooked.

AS: In college, was it just not a thing you felt you could pursue? Why weren’t you doing it?

NR: It’s so stereotypical but my mom is Korean and it was clear that I had this pressure to study — I knew I had to study a science, so psychology was the softest science I could chose. She still was like, “You’re gonna be a doctor right?” And I was like, “Yes, yes, yes.” I just never felt that freedom to do it. I was so jealous of friends who were doing it — Kenyon College, where I studied, does have a strong drama department, and they’re also really known for creative writing. It was so ironic that I was going to this college that’s known for its creative departments, and I didn’t feel the freedom to take those classes.


“I was always kind of a clown, but it wasn’t until I moved to the Bay Area and took a class that I was like oh, I’m good at this, I love it, and I just got hooked. Immediately just hooked.”


AS: What made you feel like you could when you finally took the comedy class in the Bay Area?

NR: I do think transitioning is a part of this story — it’s not the story, but it’s definitely a part of it. I feel like the headspace that I was in was one where I felt a lack of empowerment being perceived in public, there were always these stares, all these nonconsensual interactions where I wasn’t able to respond to. Standup was this stage where I had the mic, and it’s a one way conversation, and I talk and you listen. Obviously the audiences are gonna be mostly cis and straight, but I still got to have those conversations. I feel like my comedy right now is described as like a dom, or like, shaming. That really is the foundation of it, me being like, well if I walk around the world having to take the brunt of this energy feeling unsafe, what would it feel like if I was onstage and I got to be a mirror and show what that experience is like to the audience? And obviously I want the audience to have a good time, I do feel like it’s always done in a way where I do have care for the audience. I’m trying to engage, I really am connecting, I want that connection. That is a question for me — how much do I want to connect? How do I want to connect? How authentic do I want to be in those connections? 

AS: But you get to drive it. For so long, you didn’t get to drive those interactions.

NR: Exactly. When I first started comedy, I did care if the audience liked me, I almost played to the audience in a way where it didn’t always feel the most authentic. But over the years my standup has gotten more authentic, to the point where it’s almost like a goal for me of how authentic can I be onstage? Like if I’m in a bad mood, what would it be like to share that? It’s been really interesting. I did a fundraiser recently for abortion access after Roe v. Wade was struck down. I arrived to the fundraiser in a shitty mood, I’d had a really bad day. One of the first things I said onstage was “Look, I don’t care that this is a fundraiser. I know that this is for a good cause or whatever, but I’m breaking in clogs and I’m in a terrible mood.” It was an amazing connection.

AS: So you just spent ten months in the Raven’s Home writers’ room. That’s gotta be the longest comedy job you’ve ever had — honestly one of the longest comedy job anyone ever has. Did you like the day job vibe?

NR: It was my first writing job so I went into it really excited to learn. I think the experience I had was a pretty classic sitcom experience. It was so cool learning how to break up an episode and punch up a story. The collaborative nature of being in a writers’ room is so special. I enjoyed it so much. I loved ‘yes, and-ing’ the other writers, and maybe I couldn’t figure something out, but then someone next to me cracks the joke. Everyone has their strengths. Each person is good at something. You work off each other’s strengths.

AS: Did working on a sitcom make you wanna do more sitcoms?

NR: I’ll say this, it’s such an art form. I didn’t realize how much work goes into it, I left with such a respect for it. On the day of shooting, if a joke isn’t working, you gotta come up with something that’s better right there, and that kind of environment is so exciting. I would also love to work on single cam, I haven’t had that experience. But I think the sitcom format is seen as so like, straight. I would not associate queerness with the sitcom, but that would be so interesting — what would a super queer sitcom look like?

AS: So your episode of Raven’s Home has the first ever trans character on the Disney Channel. Was it emotional getting to see the episode shot?

NR: Yes. I was so in disbelief. Like, how is this being done? And like I said before, it’s a team effort, this isn’t just about me as a sole writer, it involved so many people. The show runners were all in. They were so supportive of any queer character. They wanted more queer characters, more BIPOC characters. Juliana Joel [— who plays Nikki, Disney Channel's first trans character —] is so amazing. Seeing her on set and hearing her read the dialogue I wrote…There’s a disclosure moment when she says that she’s trans. That was really important to GLAAD. They said that if the character never outright says that they’re trans, it’s really up to the viewer to decide. So it was important to us to name it once, and then to normalize it. So we named it in a way where it was funny, and a joke, and so light and joyful, and that was really important to me. I wanted a moment that wasn’t heavy. It’s a sitcom, so we were gonna stay in that space.


“I felt like there were always these stares, all these nonconsensual interactions where I wasn’t able to respond. Standup was this stage where I had the mic, and it’s a one way conversation, and I talk and you listen.”


AS: That’s kinda the beauty of what a sitcom can do.

NR: Yeah, exactly, the normalizing. Because by nature a sitcom is supposed to be relatable. Raven’s Home is set in San Francisco and the role is Raven’s fashion design assistant, so I thought it makes so much sense that this person would be queer. It’s so, like, duh.

AS: When you posted about your Raven’s Home script, you talked about never getting to see yourself on TV growing up. When do you feel like the first time you ever saw yourself?

NR: I think Margaret Cho was a moment for me growing up, seeing her specials on Comedy Central. I never saw her sitcom but watching her standup. One of her characters is like her mom, and I related so much to this idea of being a queer kid and my mom being this traditional Korean woman. So I felt so seen by that. I saw a lot of myself in Mitch Hedberg, even though he’s like not like a queer icon, he was so queer. And the environment I was growing up with was slim pickings, I really had to grab onto whatever I could get. Later on, Transparent was so ground-breaking. Seeing trans women on TV who are multifaceted and nuanced and actually trans. What a crazy concept that trans characters should be played by trans actors! Weird! Obviously the main character was that guy [Jeffrey Tambor,] but all the supporting characters were really beautifully written and that was a huge moment of being like oh my god, could I like, do this?

AS: Okay so explain the Bratz thing.

NR: Yeah so that was through standup. I did Grace Kuhlenschmidt’s show — she’s so funny, she makes me laugh in a way that no one else can. I did her show in LA and in the audience was the Bratz content team. They loved my set and women’s month was coming up and they asked me if I wanted to be a Bratz doll? Obviously, I was like, yes! What?! So I worked with their design team and they recreated one of my looks. I’m the first ever trans and also plus-size doll.

AS: Are you the first one to ever wear Crocs? 

NR: I believe also that too, but maybe not though, ‘cause Crocs are pretty cool. Some other Bratz might’ve worn Crocs. But it was really cool. One thing I joke about onstage is the comments. You’re always scared of comments online. But this time they were unhinged in a very unusual way. They were actually so supportive, but to a level that went all the way around and became almost rude. One person was like, “no ass, big tummy, YAAASS!” And I was like oh my god, that’s… really mean Their comment is actually not okay, but they’re just so excited that there’s a plus size doll.

AS: Do you have a physical doll of you?

NR: There’s no physical one yet, but the people are asking for it. 

AS: I definitely need one. So what is your dream balance of gigs, writers rooms, standup, acting, etc? 

NR: I’m kind of somewhat of a passive person. Everything that has happened for me has been so random. I never ever could have anticipated any of it.

AS: That Bratz would be in the audience? 

NR: Bratz, Raven’s Home, all of it is so random that I do somewhat feel like I’m letting things just kinda come by. But if I were to be really intentional about it… I love writing. My dream career would be getting to write on a super smart show like a Barry, or Succession, or like White Lotus. Getting to write on a show like that, and learn while developing my own stuff, and still performing. There’s probably a podcast in there somewhere too, the people are begging for it! One thing that I’m refusing to do, and ultimately maybe I’m being an elitist, is Reels [on Instagram]. What the comedy “Reel” has done to standup I think is awful. This pressure to put your standup online, with captions, I feel like it cheapens it, and it also disposes of it. I don’t understand how comedians are so flippantly using their material like that. You could get paid for that.


“Seeing trans women on TV who are multifaceted and nuanced and actually trans. What a crazy concept that trans characters should be played by trans actors!”


AS: Is there a pressure to do “Reels” and such? 

NR: Oh yeah. A lot of my friends tell me their managers are like, “Why aren’t you doing this? Everyone’s doing it.” I heard a story recently that a really famous comedian did a comedy special, and in the contract, they wanted the studio to make clips to post online because that was the only reason it would be worth it to them. Clips to be posted to social media. Because they were like, other than that, the money’s not worth it, because it’s streaming there’s no residuals, there’s nothing in it for me other than exposure. Again, I’ve used these words way too often, but it’s dark, dystopian, a little Black Mirror-y. It just makes me sad because stand-up is such an in-person, live, in the moment experience… I don’t wanna be that person who’s like the theatuhhhhh and everyone’s like oh my god you’re such an elitist piece of shit, but like, yeah. 

AS: Is live stand-up back post-pandemic? 

NR: Yeah! Like everything else in this country, COVID never happened in stand-up. I do shows now where people are shoulder to shoulder. It’s absolutely back, but I do think that it’s changed. It’s interesting to watch how the social power has moved in standup, how the scene has changed. Shows that used to be huge are not that way anymore, shows have cropped up that weren’t there before. I’m a huge fan of the Elysian, the majority of my shows are there. That’s a post pandemic place and it has such a community feel. Kate Banford has put together such an incredible thing.

AS: I do think we’re all ultimately chasing the feeling of those ASSSCAT shows below the Gristedes. And something I’ve only realized recently is that those spaces don’t go forever. Some die, and new ones crop up. Pre-pandemic you could never have predicted The Elysian would be your new favorite spot. But you have to let some go and let new ones come. When they closed that UCB, everyone was like — comedy’s dead. But it’s not! It’s gonna find new homes. 

NR: Not to get too woo-woo about it, but when I first moved to California I went to Big Sur and there had been a really bad forest fire and next to these charred redwood stumps were all these new saplings that were bright green. The green of these saplings was so beautiful, just like pure life. And there was a forest ranger and I asked “Oh, do you guys plant these little saplings after the fire to start the forest up again?” And he was like, “No actually, the nutrients in the trees are brought down to the ground from the fire which feed the seeds that are already there and that’s what brings the next generation.” And I was like AH! Oh my god, namaste, namaste. I was like Oprah in that moment, Deepak Chopra. I was everyone who has a wellness podcast. I was like, “That is beautiful.” And I feel like that applies to what happens. A new generation comes up.


Amy Solomon is a film and TV producer, most recently on HBO's Barry and Silicon Valley. She's the editor of LA Times bestseller Notes from the Bathroom Line: Humor, Art, and Low-grade Panic from 150 of the Funniest Women in Comedy. She loves baseball and pitbulls.


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