IN CONVERSATION WITH ROSEBUD BAKER
interview by JANA LETONJA
Comedian, actress, and writer Rosebud Baker is known for her intensely personal, dry, remorselessly dark brand of humor. She is a writer on 'Saturday Night Live' and has a Netflix special 'The Mother Lode'. She's appeared on 'Pause with Sam Jay', 'Comedy Central Stand-up', Bill Burr's 'The Ringers', as well as multiple appearances on 'This Week At The Comedy Cellar'. She's also toured with some of the biggest names in comedy, including Michael Che and Amy Schumer, and performed at comedy festivals like Comedy Central's Clusterfest, JFL 42, Vodaphone Comedy Festival, and SxSW. Coming up, Rosebud is going on tour around the world this Summer.
Let’s start with your breakout moment, being named a New Face of Comedy at Just For Laughs in 2018. What did that recognition mean for your career?
It was the first moment I felt like people in the industry saw me, which was nice because it could make a difference. I’d been working in New York for years, mostly performing in bars and clubs I could only describe as "sticky," and then JFL and Inside Jokes, the doc-series I filmed for it, opened the door to writing gigs and got my name in rooms in a way that it just wasn't before. But it also made me realize that getting the thing you're working toward doesn't mean your work is over, and that you're going to have to work harder now.
Looking back, what do you think made your voice and style stand out in such a competitive field of comedians?
I don't know if there's a way to say this without sounding like I have my head up my ass, but I was just trying to be honest. Coming from that place, I found most of my humor was emotionally grotesque. My comedy has always come from a dark place. I guess I feel like there’s something cathartic about it, but it's also as simple as it being what makes me laugh the hardest.
You’ve written for the ‘Comedy Central Roast of Alec Baldwin’ and ‘That Damn Michael Che’. What’s the biggest challenge in writing jokes for others versus performing your own material?
When you’re writing for someone else, especially a well-known comic, you have to match their rhythm, their voice, their public image, not yours. Sometimes your best joke gets cut cause it doesn’t fit them, and sometimes your best joke gets cut because it's not funny enough, and you'll never know what the reason was. So, the challenge is not asking yourself that question, or if you have to ask yourself that question, just assume it wasn''t funny enough and move on.
You’re now a writer on ‘Saturday Night Live’. What’s it like working in such a high-pressure, high-prestige environment?
It’s like a pressure cooker filled with the funniest people I’ve ever met. You’re surrounded by brilliance, but you’re under a weekly deadline that doesn’t care how blocked you feel. The pace is brutal and exciting, which is something that I at least strive to appreciate while I’m there. But I'm always a little shocked by how much I miss it when I'm away from it. I think the best part of SNL are the people you see every week and the kind of family it is. You spend so much time with these people under all this pressure and you really can't avoid how close you become to them.
How has your writing evolved since joining SNL, and how do you balance your distinct comedic voice with collaborative writing?
I’ve gotten better at killing my darlings, fast. SNL taught me how to be a better editor of my own work and how to build jokes that play for a much broader audience without sanding down the edge. My voice is still dark and sharp, but now I can sneak it in through structure that works on a bigger stage.
Your humor has been described as “remorselessly dark” and “wickedly dirty.” What draws you to that tone, and how do audiences typically respond?
Dark comedy has always felt more honest to me and that's what draws me to it. Life is at its most hilarious in its messiest and most painful moments. Like the fact that someone can die on the way to your dumb poetry reading, and you're left there thinking "They could've just said they don't like poetry." I find that funny.
Do you ever feel a tension between pushing boundaries in comedy and staying within cultural or network expectations?
Well, on network TV, you’re walking a tightrope, always. But I think even in my standup, there’s a difference between being offensive and being lazy. If I'm going to push a boundary, it has to be in service of comedy.
You’ve toured with legends like Amy Schumer and Michael Che. What’s something you’ve learned from working so closely with comedians at the top of their game?
The biggest lesson is that confidence isn’t arrogance, it’s clarity. They know who they are on stage and off. And I would say, touring with them showed me how important it is to stay grounded, especially as the stakes get higher.
Tell us about your Harmless Lady tour. What can audiences expect, and how has it felt to bring your comedy to different cities?
It’s been incredible. The name is ironic, obviously, because I have always had the attitude of an old man in his 60s. I don't know why, but I was born a curmudgeon, and I'm not being sarcastic when I say I truly wish I wasn't this way. I wish I was like a neurotypical girl who sold crafts on Etsy. This is basically what the show is about. This is also the first time I've toured where audiences are familiar with me, people are really coming out to see me having already seen my comedy, and there's a relationship there that just makes the show so much better. I'm having the best time on the road now. It's no longer the slog that it once was because I'm meeting all these people that are already fans and it's like "Ohhh, this is what its supposed to feel like."
Do you adjust your material at all based on the city or country you’re performing in?
I do like to get out and experience a city just to begin the show by reacting to what I've seen there. Outside of that, sometimes I’ll tweak a reference or slow the pacing, but the core of the material doesn’t change. I could say that "I don’t believe in underestimating an audience, enough to pander to them, but the truth is, I don't improvise well.”
Your Netflix special ‘The Mother Lode’ is deeply personal and fearless. How did you approach creating that special?
I wanted it to feel like a funny exorcism. I had been through multiple miscarriages, IVF to freeze embryos, only to then get pregnant naturally, by surprise, then pregnancy, and postpartum. I was holding so much fear, anger, confusion and life experience, not just about motherhood, but about identity, legacy, and survival, which is why I shot it before and after having my daughter. I cut between the two tapings, which took place a year apart from one another because I was trying to fit in the postpartum period, the period that nobody pays any attention to. Everyone loves a pregnant lady, but postpartum women are so ignored during a time when they need to be assured, "Hey, we see you. You still exist. You might not feel like it, you might not know who this new version of you is, but we're here to hold your hand while you figure it out." I didn’t want to make a “mom special.” I wanted to make something that felt like this is what it costs to be a woman who creates life and still wants one of her own. I wanted something that women at the precipice of this decision, to have kids, or to be childfree either by choice, necessity or circumstance, would find funny. To lighten that decision or experience as best as I possibly could by sharing what it was like for me. I think it achieves that.
CREDITS:
photography MINDY TUCKER