Nataly Aukar hasn’t made things easy for herself – deciding to leave Beirut and make it as a stand-up comedian based in New York City. But the gamble seems to have paid off. She’s opened for Ramy Youssef, Mo Amer and Gad Elmaleh, she was part of the Netflix is a Joke Festival in LA and starred in a The New Yorker-selected short film. Esquire Middle East caught up with her after two sold out shows in Dubai.
ESQ&A
When you tell people what you do for a living, do they say “tell me a joke” and how annoying is that on a scale of 1 to even this question about it is annoying.
This question just gave me acid reflux.
You set up shop in New York pretty quickly after graduating from the American University of Beirut. Was there a grand plan?
My grand plan was to make sure I stayed in New York. I came with enough money to last me a few weeks and I just had to find a job to keep me there. I found one a week before my money ran out. And that was when I started planning my life.
It seems like a challenging place to try and make it in comedy. Perhaps the most challenging place. Do you think that’s helped you or hurt you so far?
I would say it’s done both. New York is considered the capital of comedy, and you’ll definitely find the best comedians in the world there. Which I didn’t know when I first started. I just knew I was fascinated by the craft and was too focused on myself to pay attention to what was around me. But the hunger and dedication I saw in the comics there definitely helped, because I was following the tidal wave. They’d get on stage 3-4 times a night, every night. So I did the same. I spent more time at open mics than I did in my own apartment. Not all comics were good, but those who were, were GREAT. I got competitive. I was also often the only woman in the room, or the only Arab in the room, or the only Arab woman in the room. So I felt like I had a responsibility to make us all look good. I didn’t always succeed. Being afraid to look dumb in front of the best in the world is a good motivator.
What did you grow up watching and listening to?
I didn’t grow up watching stand up. It wasn’t really part of Middle Eastern pop culture. I loved comedy movies and shows. I won two cassette tapes of American movies when I was 8 years old at a school fair. One was Anaconda and the other was Beverly Hills Ninja. Two classic comedies. I watched them on loop, especially BHN. Chris Farley was the first comedian I discovered because of it and I loved him. But that was about it. Besides that I would say my biggest influence was my high school teachers. I used to imitate them all the time. I started in my godmother’s living room mercilessly performing to her and my mom. Eventually I took it to the big stage (my classrooms) senior year of high school and would do it in front of all the students and the teachers. I would say that was my starting and practice point. And it was a blast. I think anyone who went to school in Lebanon can back me up, our teachers were verbally abusive, clinically insane, and absolutely hilarious. I loved them.
You’ve opened for comics like Mo Amer, Gad Elmaleh Ramy Youssef. They’ve all used the clout from their stage success to create TV shows. Is that something that’s on the radar?
Absolutely. That’s been the goal from the beginning. I wrote and shot a pilot when I was in college in Beirut. It was terrible. But it was what helped get my foot into the world of writing, join a production house as a screenwriter, and grow my passion for the craft. The end goal has always been and will always be a TV show. The hour I’m working on is definitely the stepping stone to it. Stand up will always be my baby though, and I can’t imagine a world where I would ever stop doing it. Unless I hopefully run out of things to say or get rich enough that I’m too out of touch to continue it.
Your experiences in your past and present play a big part in your sets, were you encouraged to follow this creative path by the people around you growing up?
Definitely. I spent a lot of my life angry, especially as a kid. Be it because of growing up in Lebanon or growing up in my household. The instability, the war, the strict parents, all of it. Everything just always felt so out of reach. I spent a lot of time locked up in my room dreaming of better versions of my life. Looking back now, it wasn’t that bad. But I think kids have a tendency to think their emotions are bigger than they are. But all this dreaming definitely fuelled my imagination. I started writing and playing pretend from a young age, projecting myself into a world where I believed things were nicer. And then when I found myself around people, I’d bring my imaginary world to them, trying to figure out how they fit in it. It helped shape me as a writer and performer today, but it also hurt me in the sense that I am terrible at being present.
Speaking of the people around you. Your mom is always a big part of your comedy. How does she feel about that?
We never talk about it. We pretend it’s not there, like climate change.
Along with touring across the US you’ve done global shows as well, including a few in Dubai. Do you feel the reaction is different here than in New York?
Definitely. I did a couple shows in Dubai and the difference felt poignant, especially on the first show since neither me nor the crowd knew what to expect of each other. New York is used to comedy, and the people there have seen and heard it all, nothing shocks them. The thing about New York is there are no limits to the things people talk about. Since my comedy is born and bred in New York, my sensitivities match the city’s, which means they are basically non-existent. I think I definitely startled the crowd in Dubai a little bit, but I still had a blast and I like to believe that most of them did too.
What’s been your biggest achievement so far? Is it something like Netflix is a Joke or just being in a small room in Beirut?
Both. Netflix is a Joke was a sick experience, but so is performing in my home country. Every little thing I do feels like a huge achievement when I look back at my path. Every room I find myself in I think woah. Sometimes I’ll be backstage at a show, nervous, gassy, shaky, and then I’ll stop and think ‘you were a little girl in Beirut who thought you’d never leave your parents’ home, whatever happens here, we’re GOOD.’
But honestly, nothing beats the feeling of performing at home to your people and getting their approval, because nothing haunts me more than the validation of Lebanon.
What’s next for you?
What a terrifying question to ask someone with crippling anxiety and intrusive thoughts. Besides my inevitable death, I’m working on my one-person show right now. We’re in the process of adding more dates in Europe and NYC this spring and then do a longer run for it in NYC this fall. Hopefully I don’t get in a fatal accident in the process.
Find out about Nataly’s upcoming shows on her website.
Featured image by Jordan Ashleigh (IG: @jordanashleighf)