It wouldn’t be hyperbolic to say that Sarah Sherman’s debut stand-up special is the grossest thing you’ll see all year.
For the New York-born comedian, that is the point. “People take in so much shit on their phones these days,” she muses over Zoom from New York, “It’s hard to actually shock them. Merriam-Webster‘s word of the year is ‘slop,’ as in A.I. slop, which I’m so triggered by. Slop—in the gooey, sloshy sense—is one of my favorite words. That pisses me off.”
This disconnect between the virtual and the real is where the comedian focuses her efforts in her HBO special, Sarah Squirm: Live + In The Flesh. Keen to create a sense of “real fantasy”—that is, to trigger a spectrum of reactions through body humor (the poop joke count is unbelievably high) and grotesque visuals (glittery intestinal tracts, fluorescent vomit, an egregious hangnail) all rooted in the material world. A series of stop-motion animations that out her as an unabashed Pee-wee disciple (in the opener, John Waters stumbles upon her decaying body, a pile of glittering jelly insides, candy-red blood puddles, and two quivering eyeballs, telling her to “get it together” because she’s due on stage in five).
Throughout the special, her machine-gun delivery is interrupted by animations (Sherman’s floppy breasts, a Magic Schoolbus-esque journey into her intestines)—an onslaught of technicolor slop (in the gooey, sloshy sense) that will leave even the most grounded viewer stimming. Sherman commits herself entirely to eliciting her audience’s repulsion, because to do so takes them out of the brain-rot slop (in the A.I. sense). This performance demands the viewer’s full attention.
Sherman came up in the Chicago stand-up scene before pivoting to writing for titles including The Eric André Show and Three Busy Debras. In 2021, she landed a spot on the roster at Saturday Night Live, where she’s been ever since. To celebrate her first comedy special, she sat down with CULTURED for Starter Pack.
I watched your special over the weekend and loved it. You’re clearly a disciple of Pee-wee Herman.
I am inseparable from the things that made me—my mother, from my father, and my third parent, Pee-wee Herman. He fucking raised me. Pee-wee showed me that you can create a zone and make sure that everyone who lives inside of it is crazy and amazing. The more hideous the world becomes, the more I’m compelled to live only in that zone. The special is gooey, it’s sticky. It’s real fantasy.
This is billed as stand-up comedy. But there’s so much about it that could easily situate it in theater or performance art. What makes me feel like you’re a stand-up and not another kind of performer entirely?
With stand-up, I can play with this repulsion and attraction thing. Maybe there are moments when people have look away from the screen, but I mix in these jokes that are so innocent and classic—like part of our cultural canon in a way that’s familiar—and that brings them back. The special is like a small amusement park of bells and whistles.
What’s your relationship to discomfort, whether you’re feeling or causing it?
It’s so fun to gross people out. I love being onstage in a loud room where people are laughing and screaming, “No, Sarah, stop!” But also, I feel uncomfortable all the time—I am a Jewish girl with tummy aches, and I experience psychic distress every day. It’s fun to express all of my neuroses to a room full of people.
What’s the first thing people say to you after watching the special?
“It’s gross.” Everyone’s pretty hung up on that. It’s become a point of pride, honestly. People take in so much shit on their phones these days, so it’s hard to actually shock people. I saw today that Merriam-Webster’s word of the year is “slop.” I’m so triggered by that, because slop is one of my favorite words. I mean it in the gooey, sloshy sense—but it refers, of course, to the A.I. onslaught. That pisses me off.
What’s the moment in the special that most people react to?
The grossest thing for people is an animation of me pulling a hangnail. I think that’s so funny because I made that special effect in my garage in LA for $30. I was broke, so I just used wax and hot glue. So it makes me proud, I’m like, “Damn, I did that.”
What’s the first thing you do when you step on stage?
Flip people off, immediately become aggressive.
What’s your favorite way to start your day?
Coffee.
What’s your signature way to begin a sentence?
Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii.
Where do you start an outfit?
Well, all my clothes are on the floor, so I begin with whatever is closest to me.
What’s a book that you started but never finished?
Jerusalem by Alan Moore.
Who would you start a cult for?
Pee-wee.
What’s your signature way to kick off a party?
Turning on Rap Zombie.
When’s the last time you started a fight?
Oh, all the time. Last night I saw my friend [and comedian] Adam Friedland. I yelled at him for not coming to my special premiere. He calmly reminded me that he’d made plans.
What’s the last series that you binged from start to finish?
I just rewatch X-Files all the time.
What’s the last project you had to start from scratch?
Literally every sketch I write at SNL.
The Sarah Sherman Starter Pack
Black licorice. I keep it in my bag along with Diet Coke and saltines. When I’m touring, my stomach always hurts, so those are the only things I can eat. Everyone thinks black licorice is gross, but it’s the best food ever.
My two hats—I have a Killer Klowns from Outer Space one and a Texas Chainsaw Massacre one. I dont think I’ve left the house without one of them on for months.
The Pleasure Principle by Gary Numan. It’s my favorite album ever. I’m addicted to watching his live performances from the 80s on YouTube. The synthesizers on that album are like ASMR to me.
Norm MacDonald Live. I’ve been really anxious lately, and it’s the only thing that calms me down. That and Real Housewives.
My giant scorpion keychain. I have this giant resin keychain with a dead scorpion embedded in it. It’s always fun to find a dead scorpion at the bottom of your bag.
Patchouli. People fucking hate it. I love walking into an elevator and seeing people go, “Oh my god, what is that?” I wear Santa Maria Novella’s patchouli scent 24/7. They changed the formula, and I freaked out about it. They sent me every remaining bottle they had.
in your life?
