Emma Walker – News Editor

Sarah‌ Sherman Is ⁢Grosser Than You Think

Sarah Sherman doesn’t just challenge comedic⁢ boundaries;⁣ she pulverizes them. Her performance style, a jarring collision of body horror and stand-up tropes, has quickly established her as a singular voice in comedy, ⁣particularly through her work on Saturday Night Live and her ‍recent Max special. But the deliberately shocking act of “Sarah Squirm” wasn’t a sudden invention. its ⁣a carefully constructed persona built on ‌a foundation of mainstream‌ influences, a rebellious streak, and a willingness to embrace the “freak” within.

The impact of Sherman’s act is visceral.A recent performance involved a grotesque reveal: opening her legs wide to reveal a mouth that, smiling spookily, spurted out chunky ⁤period blood from between⁢ its teeth. “Look​ at the screen!” Sherman yelled, as ⁣audience members reacted with ⁤a mixture​ of squeals and horrified glee. ‍She deliberately layers her unsettling ​material with the ​familiar cadence of a macho comedian – “D’you know what ⁢I mean?” and​ “You kidding me?” – creating a disorienting ​effect.The result, as one observer noted, is a “bizarro blend of Rodney⁣ Dangerfield and⁢ Hannah wilke.”

Following a ​taping of her special, a visit to‌ Sherman’s​ dressing room revealed‌ a stark contrast to ​the stage ​persona. She‌ sat huddled ‌with ‌her long-term boyfriend, Dan Sloan, ‌a sweet-faced academic. ‍Stripped ​of⁣ her​ clown makeup and polka-dot top,​ she appeared slight and pretty in​ a white undershirt, ​her glittery eyeshadow the only remaining trace of ⁣performance.she suddenly resembled, as one account ​described, “a nice upper-middle-class Jewish girl from Long Island,” which, in ⁤essence, she is. A hug offered in greeting was quickly withdrawn, accompanied ⁢by genuine concern:‍ “I’m so‍ sorry-am I really sweaty?”

Sherman’s ⁢upbringing in Great Neck, Long Island, hardly foreshadowed her ‍current career path. Her father owns a children’s clothing company and commutes daily⁤ to Manhattan​ via the Long Island Rail Road. Her mother is a ​retired teacher, ​and⁣ her younger brother works in market research in the city.She⁤ remains​ close to‌ her family, though she acknowledges a certain tension, stating her parents are “hot, and I’m sort of reactionary to⁢ them.”

As a teenager,‌ Sherman‍ was⁢ a well-adjusted student and ​athlete,​ running ‍track and working as a lifeguard and‍ swim ‌teacher.While not part of ⁢the popular crowd,she was well-liked. “I was funny, and when you’re funny you can be really socially mobile,” she explained. She even received an ⁣invitation from the high school quarterback, which‍ she declined. Her‌ true passion, from a young age, was comedy.

her early comedic influences were rooted in⁢ network television. ​She was captivated by sitcoms like Seinfeld ⁣ and The Nanny, appreciating their ‍”prickly…tri-state jewish⁤ humor.” (She continues​ to incorporate the slap-bass theme from Seinfeld into her sets.) Later, she discovered the​ sharp wit of Joan Rivers and Kathy Griffin ⁢through E!’s ⁤ Fashion Police and Bravo’s My‌ Life on the D-List, respectively.

Sherman began frequenting stand-up shows⁣ in the ⁤city with​ friends (“We’d be, like, ‘Louis C.K. is doing a drop-in at the Creek​ and the Cave!'”) and joined the improv​ club at great⁣ Neck South High⁢ School. They staged comedy shows in the basement of the local library, which housed a ⁤youth community centre called Levels. Attending Levels carried a social stigma, as fellow ⁣great Neck native Ronald Bronstein, who executive-produced Sherman’s special, put it: “If you went​ to ⁣Levels, you had a⁢ taint on⁤ you.” Sherman, though, embraced the unconventional atmosphere.​ “I thought Levels was cool as ⁤everyone was a crazy fucking loser,” she said. It was there she earned the ​nickname “Squirm” from her ⁢peers: “They called me ‘Squirmin’ Sherman’ because I⁢ was sort‍ of skinny and gross.”