In approximately the same time it would take a batch of Mario Batali sorry-for-sexually-assaulting-you cinnamon rolls to cool on the kitchen counter, several alleged and admitted serial sexual predators have begun their re-entry into public life, having decided that it’s been quite enough time since the public has heard from them, and they are ready for a comeback.
Louis C.K. has admitted to everything. Five women accused C.K. of sexual misconduct, as the New York Times reported last November. These women, all aspiring writers and comedians, described C.K. — among the most influential and powerful men in comedy — forcing them to watch him masturbate at work, at comedy festivals, during conversations that were supposed to be professional.
“These stories are true,” C.K. confessed, in a statement he closed by writing, “I have spent my long and lucky career talking and saying anything I want. I will now step back and take a long time to listen.”
How long is a long time? And what, exactly, has C.K. done in the interim to right these wrongs — to make any kind of restitution to these women specifically, or to women in comedy more broadly?
On Sunday night, C.K. made an unannounced appearance at the Comedy Cellar in New York City. Much about the whole thing is questionable (free idea: instead of making your first public appearance since your history of rampant sexual misconduct became public all about you and your jokes, make it about supporting the work of female comics) but perhaps the most darkly hilarious part is that it was a surprise set — meaning, no one in the audience had the chance to consent to C.K.’s presence. All 115 people at the Comedy Cellar that night saw C.K. whether they wanted to or not, which, for everybody playing along at home, was kind of the crux of C.K.’s crimes to begin with.
So, from the jump, this is not exactly an encouraging sign, re: C.K. having done all the soul-searching and reckoning and come-to-Jesus-ing he was supposedly doing during his nine months in comedy exile.
How did the audience feel about having C.K. sprung on them? No women are actually quoted in the Times story. One male audience member called on Monday “to object to the surprise set,” the Times reported. Comedy Cellar owner Noam Dworman said the audience member “wished he had known in advance, so he could’ve decided whether to have been there or not.”
Comic Mo Amer, who also performed Sunday, told the Times that C.K.’s appearance was “like a wow moment” and that C.K.’s set was “like classic Louis, really really good.”
It’s not clear who actually allowed C.K. onto the stage, as Dworman was “at home asleep” when C.K. performed. Club staff texted Dworman about C.K.’s visit and reported that C.K. got “an ovation before he even began”; Dworman later watched a tape of the show. He said that the material was “typical Louis C.K. stuff” which the Times describes as “racism, waitresses’ tips, parades,” and not “compulsive masturbation followed by self-loathing,” although that, too, would also qualify as “typical Louis C.K. stuff.”
“I understand some people will be upset with me,” Dworman said. But “there can’t be a permanent life sentence on someone who does something wrong… I think we’ll be better off as a society if we stop looking to the bottlenecks of distribution — Twitter, Netflix, Facebook or comedy clubs — to filter the world for us.”
Well, no: Those “bottlenecks” are exactly where society should look to have the world “filtered” for us. The idea of “let the people decide for themselves!” is so patently ridiculous it feels absurd to even address it but, fine: The audience cannot change the channel to or from a show that never airs. The audience cannot cheer or heckle a joke it never hears. The audience cannot spend money to see the female standup who never got a comedy special because men — and it is virtually always men — never booked her.
The audience decides what to watch in the same way that a fourth grader “chooses” what to eat in their school cafeteria. The audience can only choose among the options that are made available to them by gatekeepers — by, for example, people like Dworman.
In case it is not already clear, the audience cannot rely on someone like C.K. to voluntarily go away and stay away. This is someone who knew exactly what he did — although he did it so many times to so many women, he reportedly could not remember who he assaulted in what way and scrambled his attempted apologies because of it — and still joked about his criminal behavior, in his standup, where everyone, including his victims, could see him. This is someone who built an entire episode of his namesake TV show around his character sexually assaulting a woman. The man made a movie called I Love You, Daddy that was straight-up Woody Allen fan-fiction!
Does anyone seriously think that C.K. will keep himself off our stages and screens for some respectful period of time, just of his own accord? We are talking about a person who is literally incapable of keeping his penis in his pants in the workplace. What we are not dealing with is a paragon of self-restraint and good judgment.
Now, Dworman, with his “nobody should serve a life sentence” notion, is not the only person to casually invoke the language of the criminal justice system in C.K.’s case. Comedian Michael Ian Black also popped up on Twitter to comment on C.K.’s return to comedy, writing, “people have to be allowed to serve their time and move on with their lives.”
Will take heat for this, but people have to be allowed to serve their time and move on with their lives. I don't know if it's been long enough, or his career will recover, or if people will have him back, but I'm happy to see him try. https://t.co/QmqdGJnIjy
— Michael Ian Black (@michaelianblack) August 28, 2018
It is wildly misleading and deeply stupid to appropriate the language of incarceration as a colloquialism in a situation like this, considering C.K. — who, once more for the people in the cheap seats, confessed to his crimes — has evaded the criminal justice system entirely. He has never been arrested or charged for these crimes. He has not had to spend a single second in a courtroom or in prison because of them.
And he could have, because what C.K. did is criminal. In Colorado, where C.K. stripped off his clothes and forced Dana Min Goodman and Julia Wolov to watch him masturbate in 2012, indecent exposure is a Class 1 Misdemeanor punishable by up to 18 months imprisonment, along with the requirement that one registers as a sex offender.
So enough with referring to someone’s brief dismissal from their dream job as “serving time” when someone like C.K. should feel something close to ecstatic relief that he did not, in fact, serve time for the crimes he committed. Maybe he won’t get to see his name on the Madison Square Garden marquee ever again, but he also won’t have to see his name on the Sex Offender Registry. Sure seems like a bargain from here.
As for Dworman’s hyperbolic suggestion that some of the men whose predatory behavior has been publicized during the #MeToo movement shouldn’t have to “serve a life sentence”: It is ignorant fear-mongering that serves no function other than to fan those #MeToo-backlash flames. You know who is actually facing life in prison? Harvey Weinstein. And so far, among the dozens of men who’ve made headlines this past year for allegedly sexually harassing, abusing, and assaulting their way through life… that’s it. Even Bill Cosby didn’t get a life sentence.