She films her first hour special Nov. 14, 2021, at Littlefield in Brooklyn

You can listen to my podcast with Jenny Zigrino here:
Zigrino sat down with me over Zoom to promote her tapings this coming weekend, Nov. 14, 2021, at Littlefield in Brooklyn during the New York Comedy Festival. She’s filming her first solo hour of stand-up, and tickets for either show are free. By this writing, the early taping at 6:30 p.m. had sold out. You could still get seats as of now for the later taping at 9 p.m., though, so if you want one or more, hop to it!
This is how her special event is listed by the club:
Jenny Zigrino (Comedy Central, Conan, MTV, Bad Santa 2) is a comedian, actress, writer, and aging millennial. Her brand of knife sharp wit, unabashed silliness on serious topics, and ability to make you question everything can be seen at her new hour taping on November 14th at Littlefield in Brooklyn as part of the New York Comedy Festival. Her new hour entitled “Jen Z” looks at life from the perspective of a woman in her 30’s falling short of expectations as she watches Gen Z thrive and the boomers refuse to die. Single, unmarried, and now with a roommate, Jenny is coming to grips with being in a generation that never had a chance to live up to their potential. With her own sister a Gen Z’er and her parents boomers, Jenny takes a few cues from the coming generation on how to stand up for yourself, self care, and using witchcraft for everything. As she sprinkles in advice for the younger generation, she comes to the realization that, like her boomer parents, she might not be cool.
Jenny Zigrino has been featured on Comedy Central’s Stand up Half Hour, MTV Girl Code, TruTV Adam Ruins Everything, and many other networks. She has been featured in films including Bad Santa 2 and the 2021release Too Late, starring Ron Lynch and Fred Armisen. She was featured in Just For Laughs New Faces of 2016 and was a regular on the Conan O’Brien show. She performed in festivals all over the world including Telluride Blues Festival, Just for Laughs Montreal, Fly Over Comedy Festival, and this will be her 2nd time at the New York Comedy Festival.

Here is an edited and slightly condensed transcript of my conversation with Jenny Zigrino!
Sean L. McCarthy: How are you? You’re about to film your big one-hour special as part of the New York Comedy Festival.
Jenny Zigrino: Yeah, yeah, I’m excited. It is like pretty much done now. It’s just like, finessing some order issues. And like, you know, getting the through line to be more cohesive.
I mean, it’s in my wheelhouse, that you’re so punny. Because even though you’re a millennial, Jenny Zigrino, your special is very Gen Z. Because you are Jen Z. And your album was JZ. You’re very in touch…you’re multi-generational.
My first album, “JZ’s New Album,” I was like, OK, I get that shit all the time. Everyone calls me J-Z, so I was like, let’s see if we can scoop in on some of these Jay-Z dollars. Didn’t really work, but that’s fine. And then this one, someone was like “Gen Z” you’re like the generation, and I was kind of trying to figure out what was what I was gonna call this special because it had more serious tones to it, and then kind of as time went on, it got less serious and artsy. Because of, you know, money, it’s a lot of money to make a movie. So right now it’s like, pretty much I’ve been doing some like little videos myself, like self-taping stuff of my journey of trying to get this thing made. And it went from being like, it’s about perspective and before quarantine and after quarantine, to now it’s more like, ah man, I want to make something and I as a millennial who got fucked over real hard by COVID, don’t really have the means. And so how am I going to get this thing made? And so we started a GoFundMe.

I started an OnlyFans. I got some investors, just nose to the grindstone, like, well, how can I make this happen?
It’s all about the hustle.
Yeah, I hate it. Our parents never hustled for shit.
They didn’t have to.
No. No, they didn’t. They didn’t have credit scores back then.
Although they didn’t have to try to avoid wars.
We were just in a war for 20 years!
But I never had to worry about being drafted. My dad had to watch the Vietnam War draft via lottery of birthdays. So, that doesn’t sound like fun.
No, that doesn’t. It’s like your number to basically die. But you know what? Have you been on TikTok? Feels like the same thing.
Are you on TikTok?
(Yes, she is! @jennyzigrinocomedy)
I got banned from TikTok, so I had to restart my Tiktok. It was for making fun of anti-maskers and calling them stupid. So then I got reported as a hate crime.
Oh my goodness.
So it was either that or it was a joke I did about OnlyFans. Only talking about OnlyFans got me banned.
That’s crazy.
Yeah, but Nazis are like fine. Everyone’s cool with like, Nazis and people spreading vaccine misinformation. No, it’s fine. No one gives a shit. Or the fact that like, as a woman, I had a comment. I had this joke on there and the comment was like, this bitch thinks she can get a boyfriend? She ugly as fuck! I report that and they’re like, we don’t see anything wrong with that?!
This probably wasn’t even any part of your predicted future when you were growing up in Minnesota.
No. I didn’t think that strangers would hate me as much.
What did you think when you were a teenager? Were you in Minneapolis or the suburbs or where?
Yeah, I was in the western suburbs. Minnetonka, Hopkins, Eden Prairie. Very western suburb, very suburban. It’s so funny, and I’ve been talking about this because I just found this booklet that I made when I was 12 called “My Heritage,” and it was like, different chapters of my family life. What do I want to be when I grew up? And I was like, I want to be a stand-up comedian.
At 12! Who was inspiring you in that direction that young?
So that booklet said I wanted to be like Billy Crystal or Robin Williams. Not really fans of either of those. But I think at the time I was like, those are the guys.
Were you watching them hosting Comic Relief?
I don’t remember what it was. But I remember watching, I was probably like six at the time, back when Comedy Central or MTV was doing stand up. And I just remember a very starry background, and stand-ups coming on. I don’t know what show that was.
That was Rosie O’Donnell’s showcase that she hosted on VH1. (Stand-Up Spotlight aired on VH1 from 1988 into the early 1990s)
I remember that, so specifically, and thinking ‘That looks cool.’ And at the time, Comedy Central’s playing a lot of Monty Python and Kids in the Hall. So I was watching that a lot. I was also alone a lot.
Did you know then that Minneapolis had its own vibrant comedy scene?
I didn’t understand the concept that comedy existed within cities at the time. I didn’t know how you got to be a comedian. I didn’t know how you got on that stage. Just that you got onstage to tell jokes and people laughed.
So when you said when you decided to go to Boston, it wasn’t even because Boston had a comedy scene.
No, no. When I was 15, I took a class because I’d been watching stand-up. And then I was like, I want to do this. I don’t know what to do. So I took a class and that’s when I learned about open mics and like, joke writing, and how to form a joke and like all this stuff. Took the class, did stand-up a little bit, but as a 15-year-old girl, it’s like real rough. So I stopped. Picked it up again at 18. But then by then I knew I was moving to Boston to go to film school. So pretty much totally just, film is what’s up, and then I took a study abroad year, someone introduced me to Russell Brand, and I was like, I remember this! I got home. I was in a breakup. I was sad. And I was like, I’m gonna try stand-up again. I’m like 21 now. I can go to bars, and so I did it. And then I just like never stopped. Dick Doherty’s Beantown County Vault. That’s the first place I did it in Boston.
That is a place.
You’re so new and like you don’t understand, like all the politics involved in it. Like I remember the woman who owned it was like, you can’t, like if someone wants to book you they have to go through us, and I was like, that feels right. And now I’m like, oh! That was the biggest bullshit in the world.
Were you part of a webseries of Boston comics called “Quiet Desperation”?
Yeah, I’m in a couple of Quiet D episodes.
They started that after I left Boston for NYC and I never quite understood it?
Yeah, yeah, it was, I forget which episodes I was in. I played a journalist in a couple episodes. That’s also too when like, you know, when web series were like, it, and it was cool, and, you know, it’s like, I think the time I came up in Boston was like, one of the best times. I’m the generation behind Myq Kaplan, Josh Gondelman, Zach Sherwin.
So who was part of your generation then?
Like my graduating class would be Ahmed Bharoocha, Matt D, Sam Jay, Langston Kerman. There’s tons of like, like Gary Petersen and Rob Crean. Like these are Boston people who are like doing shit. They’re just not, you know, in LA or New York.
Was there any sort of debate in your head or among the comedians about whether it was better to go to New York or to LA?
That was a conversation that I think I hadn’t really even thought about until maybe a year or two years in, right? Where it’s just like, I’m just out here doing stand-up and then I was like, you’ve gotta go somewhere. Right?
Well, some people don’t.
Some people don’t! They stay and they just live off of Elks Lodges forever and that’s fine. Like I’ve done plenty of Elks Lodges. I did a lot of Lions Clubs. I did dinner hall shit. Massachusetts, and this is a great thing — in New England, you could do that. California? I rarely do like, road California gigs. Unless it’s like San Francisco. Maybe San Diego, but like I haven’t done like an Elks Lodge in 10 years. But I think the conversation in New York or LA was always like, OK, I’m gonna preface this. There was a very shitty thing that would always be said. I think this is still said a lot and it makes me very mad. Is that in comedy, you’re either classified as a writer or a performer. Do you ever feel that?
I’ve seen and heard industry types do that.
It’s a real way to undercut your actual talent, right? Oh, you’re a comedy writer, but like, you’re not good at performing or like you’re a good performer, but like, what you’re really saying is like you’re writing is shit, but you are able to mask it through your performance.
Or you look good on camera, or you don’t look good on camera, so you must be a writer.
Exactly. I would get a lot of, ‘you’re a great performer.’ I’d be like, fuck you. Thank you, but fuck you. I know what you mean by that. And then it was like, well, if you want to be a comedy writer, which of course was like, the thing you wanted to be because that was like king was to be the writer, is you would go to New York, because that’s where you got the most sets, and that’s where you would just be getting up constantly. But if you wanted to be a performer and an actor and all that shit, and it was like, well, then you got to go to LA. And I first went to New York because I wanted to be a great stand-up. And I wanted to get all that stage time in, and it was also super close to Boston. My mom was in Revere at the time so it was easy.
Go see mom, get a roast beef and come back.
Get some Kelly’s, have a seagull steal it from my hands, which has happened before — you’re about to bite into it, and they just swoop in and take your sandwich. They have no shame, those fucking seagulls.
But then a Wayans brother comes calling.
A Wayans brother shows up. I get a show. I moved to LA. And then now I’m stuck here. And I wish I would have stayed longer in New York. I should have stayed at least two more years out there in New York.
That Wayans Brother’s show was Funniest Wins on TBS. That was the first time I saw you. And probably most of America saw you. Well, actually, I don’t know how many people actually watched it.
Before that, I think I was Comedy Central up and coming, but I don’t think they aired those at the time.
But did you have any idea what Funniest Wins was? Or was going to be when you signed up for it?
I knew it was a competition. I mean, looking back I was actually thinking about this yesterday. I wish that I’d been more media trained and more like reality TV trained and understood it, because I think I said and did a lot of really embarrassing things, thinking about it, not knowing that like I was being listened to constantly. Or if I was on camera, or whatever it is, right?
At the same time if Tiffany Haddish could go from Funniest Wins to glamour and superstardom, that’s gotta give you inspiration to be like, well, this show that didn’t seem like it was much….
It’s gotten me a lot of good things. I’ve got some movies from it. I would say actually, for me, my best year was 2016. For the nation, it was not. But for me? I had like two films come out. I was a Montreal New Face. Like, I felt really good. And then 2017 I got my half hour special (on Comedy Central). So this is actually it’s my first special in four years.
You had mentioned about the differences between being categorized as a writer or performer. So when you go to LA, you do the show. And then you get these movie roles out of it. Are you starting to think, well, maybe they’re right or maybe this is my path is to be in movies and not stand-up?
I almost like, I don’t know, you know, I love performing. I love acting. I really like it. And I love stand-up performing, because what I am doing is still a performance. You know, it’s a heightened version of myself. I wish I was doing more acting in roles because I went to film school. So my background is film, and I love being on sets and I love the collaborative nature of it. I’m just really bad at auditioning. Because, this is the thing: You go into stand-up your whole life in stand-up is, this is my shit. No one tells me what to do. I make my own choices. Either book me or you don’t. I’ll go find someone else. Auditioning is like my entire career is based on this person’s choice. I remember I was sitting in a in a casting agent’s office and I overheard someone talking to another agent, and they were like, oh this guy came in and he was so perfect for the part but you know, he was just, he was just a little too handsome. And it’s like that person is not getting this amazing role because they have like a nice chin. Like it’s so stupid! How your future is based on that bullshit, while in stand-up your future is based on how funny you are. And also your likability. It’s a big thing and I don’t think people want to talk about image in stand-up because we’re so like, anti-image.
You’ve never had a problem talking about it, though.
I haven’t, but I feel like it’s not discussed enough with young comics. It’s not discussed enough in how your image and how also too, your persona is important. You can be funny, but if you’re unlikable on stage like even — I used to teach a stand-up class. And I would always show Anthony Jeselnik because I would be like, ‘This dude’s material is dark and harsh. And it’s not for everybody. But his likability onstage is so much that you’re willing to take the journey with him on this.’
He’s the guy who I also cite, as 99 out of 100 comedians who try to be like him, fall on their ass because the material is so harsh that you can only pull it off with a charisma and with a character that people understand that he doesn’t mean it. The other 99 percent? It just sounds like you’re a dick.
Yeah, yeah. I think that like that it is important to hone that. Like my personality on stage has been honed, like it is very much. At this point, it feels very natural to do it. But, OK. I hosted burlesque for five years as this character that was very body and out there and no holds barred, and like, you know, very cheeky and through doing that I was able to bring that into my persona that I think makes me a very likable fun comedian. I am the girl’s best friend. I’m not a threat to the girl, and to the gu,y they don’t know that they want to fuck me. Which I know sounds stuck up, but there is this thing where, I see it with like a lot of attractive female comics or attractive male comics. It’s just something you got to deal with. That if they’re too attractive people stop listening to them.
What was that?
I’m such an ugly piece of shit.
No, but that is a thing! I don’t know, maybe people think I sound like you know, full of myself or stuck up but it’s natural emotions. I talk about this onstage about with hot people, we’re just so much more drawn to them and so much more. They’re so much more part of our society I guess is a way to say it. But you know, I know the boundary that like if I dress up too much or if I put on too much makeup in a certain fashion, I will lose some of my audience. People won’t take me seriously.
I completely understand what you’re saying because I feel like it was even more discussed or talked about or thought about when I was younger. Because people just said, well, there’s no attractive…attractive people don’t do stand up. But it’s not talking about now because when I look at the 20somethings who are in comedy now it seems like they’re all attractive.
Yeah. It’s because we’ve switched to social media. Being a society based on looks more than before. So it’s like, you kind of gotta like play into that shit. Be part of the game. I feel like there is a fine line that you have to cross, and I have to come off especially as a woman and a woman who is going to talk about angry things or like political things. I have to in the first five minutes get them onboard in a fun playful way, where even if they disagree with me politically or ethically, morally, they like me enough that they will still ride the train with me.
Do you see yourself as a badass bitch of history?
I don’t. Hopefully one day, I’ll be able to look back on the things I’ve done and be like, oh, yeah, I did some cool stuff and made some changes and will on the right side of history? Who knows?
So what was the impetus for that webseries you did with Comedy Central?
I just love history. I personally don’t know if anyone will do a web series about me, but like, I love history. I love talking about like unsung heroes and underdogs. It’s always been a thing that is important to me. So I feel like with those, it’s what I tried to choose what I thought at the time was appropriate.
You didn’t ever think while you’re doing it: Well, hopefully one day I will be a Bad Ass Bitch of History?
No, I don’t think about that. Like, do I hope I have a legacy? No, fuck that. I mean, I would love that my work and the things I do go down in history and like inspire other people. That would be great. Am I looking to have a legacy and be a legend? No. I like there’s like a level of of notoriety where I feel like the people in my field respect what I do, and love what I do, and like to be occasionally recognized on the street would be fun, by like someone who’s just like oh, I really love your work. But no, you know, I say that but I also need validation at all times. So being famous would be great.
You’ve talked about the difficulty of auditioning and just kind of trying to thrive and survive in Hollywood. At the same time, like looking back, your credits and your career, pre-pandemic, it did seem like it was a really good time to be an LA comic, because you could be on @midnight multiple times or you did multiple Conans.
All those shows are gone now! Just before the pandemic, I did have some things in the works and then those got completely gone. They’re dead. You know what I mean?
So how did so how did the dissolution of those projects, and then the time off with a pandemic, how did that affect what you wanted to do?
I thought about quitting a lot. I thought about quitting stand-up, but I thought about quitting my career because it felt like, in 2018 I went through a really, really rough patch. I was not doing well mentally, and then 2019, it felt like it was kind of coming back in a way. I wasn’t doing as much TV and film as I’d wanted. And then a couple good things happened. And then it felt like, it all just got axed in 2020, and then with that, it also felt like, I’m sure a lot of comics felt this. That you were suddenly forgotten. And that was a huge thing in what I felt in 2020 is like, no one knows who I am, and I feel forgotten. And I feel like what am I even doing? Like I spent all of this time creating this job where I need to be seen and no one can see me and I feel like super invisible. It was really rough. I went into an eating disorder treatment facility at this time last year. I was struggling mentally really bad. I was in a bad relationship. I understand why people are really fucked up last year. I’m lucky in that like no one I loved died. No one close to me died. I had gotten unemployment so financially, I was OK. But like mentally, I was just like, I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore. And this is feeling that nobody cares was like really intense. You know, especially too, of, you spend your whole career getting immediate validation for your existence. Because when you do it, because when you write and you perform your jokes, it’s you! It’s not like you’re playing someone else’s music. You’re being you and when people like it, it feels good.
And the the outdoor shows or the Zoom shows?
The Zoom shows, no. I think the Zoom shows maybe hurt me a little bit. As far as like writing. The outdoor shows were fun, but there were so few and then it would get shut down and it would be scary. And then, you know, it got to a point where it’s just like, Man, I don’t know what I’m doing. And then I started a couple of their projects to like stay financially afloat, which took up a lot of my time and energy, and so like now I’m kind of at this thing where, I’m very good at when I want something, I do it and I get it. I will say that about me. That’s pretty dope. I would say in July, I was like, I’m gonna film a special. I’m doing it. I just need to do it because nothing’s happening. And I’d lost my agents. It felt like no one was going to help me get seen or get the things I needed to get done. So I just had to do it myself. And, you know, from July to now, I mean, I raised $20,000 for this special. I got it on the New York Comedy Festival. It worked out beyond my wildest dreams. My only fear is that no one shows up but, because I can’t see what the ticket count is. But you know, this is kind of like, been my big thing of like, I need to be seen again. I need to like feel like I’m a comedian again and not and I can’t wait for the network’s to do it for me, myself.
You really do have to do it for yourself. It’s one of the biggest lessons, even…I had to learn that before the pandemic but the pandemic just kind of emphasized that even more, like no one’s going to come and help any of us.
Yeah, no, no one’s coming for you. Maybe they are coming for you, but to destroy you. But like, no one’s coming to be like, we just think you’re so wonderful and want to give you this thing! That’s not how it works anymore. I built — it was a bummer — I built like 75,000 followers on TikTok, which isn’t like nothing. And I lost it all just before this special was released. That tickets became available. I’m like, fuck, I just lost 75,000 people! I had to restart. I have like 1200 followers now.
But you could go viral five minutes after this conversation.
It changed and that’s kind of what I talk about in the special. Before the pandemic, especially my generation, it kind of felt like things were turning around for us. Like, we had 9/11. We had the housing crisis. And things were OK. And the Trump election was pretty much a bummer for the last four years but it felt like things were kind of turning around. And then we all got shut in and while we were shut in, Gen Z rose to power.
Well, now it’s time for a new Jen Z. One last thing. We did a print interview in March of 2017. I asked, where do you see yourself five years from now? Do you remember? Your answer was “in the arms of Brad Pitt.”
Oh, that hasn’t happened.
But we still have a few months. There’s still time.
Can I change it? I’m sure there’s someone else’s arms, who’d probably be way better suited. You know who I want? That Harbour guy.
Oh, from Stranger Things and Black Widow? David Harbour.
He looks like a nice hug. But he’s married.
It just says in the arms. You don’t have to get banned for it. Just a nice comfortable bear hug to let you know that everything’s OK.
Yeah. Hell yeah.


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