
A few weeks ago, I attended a live recording of the Handsome podcast, hosted by comedians Tig Notaro, Fortune Feimster and Mae Martin. Perhaps it felt dreamy because I attended with my own little trio—friends who’ve laughed, cried, and pondered their way through the last five years of pandemics, politics and personal milestones.
But honestly, it’s also just a great show.
I have been listening to podcasts for over 20 years now, some theological and some political. However, I prefer to have a comedy podcast in the background of my life that gives me opportunities to laugh, even when I feel lonely or overwhelmed by the world.
Since it first started in 2023, the Handsome podcast has kept me somewhere between giggles and guffaws. I find myself eagerly anticipating my time with Notaro, Feimster and Martin each week. It feels simultaneously like visiting with old friends and also like going out for a titillating first round of speed dating.
The format is simple yet satisfying: a celebrity guest or a fan poses a question to the hosts. This serves as a springboard for conversation that combines silliness, soberness, and so much soul. Questions range from, “Who was your very first celebrity crush of all time?” (Natalie Furtado) to “What does it mean to you to be useful? (Arnold Schwarzenegger).
Because all three hosts are established and successful performers, there is no lack of charm or insight on any given episode. But what I appreciate most is how countercultural the whole production feels in a moment when culture is very much in need of a counterweight.
At first glance, one might assume that the self-described “two ladies (Tig and Fortune) and a ‘theydie’” (Mae) go against the grain by offering a distinctly queer show that features regular discussion of lesbian and bisexual romantic relationships. While it is vital that queer life and love are centered in a moment with coordinated political efforts to diminish and demean them, that is not what makes the show most unique. What feels fresh is a show that features three funny people, none of whom are men, who get to be silly, bold, outrageous and free.
Like many comedy lovers, most of the podcasts I consume about what it means to be funny are created and hosted by men. I love those podcasts and often find myself relating to and rejoicing in their absurdity.
But it is crucial for us to see women and non-binary people help shape our conceptions of what is funny—because what and who we laugh at both reveals and informs our values. And I don’t want my mind being shaped by only one gender’s notion of what (or who) is deserving of our eyerolls or applause.
Featuring hosts in different decades of their lives (Tig-54, Fortune-44, Mae-38) is another way that Handsome keeps things countercultural. While much current content seems hell-bent on valorizing or vilifying one generation or another, these hosts delight in their similarities across life stages and in their age-graded differences.
Is there an inundation of ribbing when only one of the three is the right age and stage to have fallen in love with the beloved Sharon, Lois and Bram of “Skinnamarink” and “Button Factory” fame? Yes, of course. (I highly recommend checking out the brilliantly chaotic teasing on episode 201 featuring Sarah Paulson’s question about forgiveness.)
Where would we all be without friends who both understand us and who are also completely confounded by our beliefs and our behaviors?
This all relates to what I believe to be the most important alternative modeling that is happening on the show, which is extending radical curiosity and humility to one another.
Mae is a Canadian free spirit whose romantic and sexual openness seems at times to surprise and often exhaust the other two, who are both in long-term monogamous marriages. But their posture toward Mae is one of wonder.
They do not withhold differences of opinion or at times concern, but the starting place is never, “we are the mature guides for this wanderer,” but rather:
“What might it be like to be this wanderer?
How might they have come to the paths they find themselves on?
How can we be of service if there is danger?
How can we be of support if there is a need?
How can we live, let live, and all laugh together at the absurdity of being alive at all, much less, alive together?”
Similarly, Mae doesn’t present themself as more evolved, edgy, or experienced than the others. Instead, they seek clarity — and at times, counsel — from friends who view things differently on a whole host of issues (relationships, extraterrestrials, eating animals) due to different cultural, geographic, religious, familial, and experiential perspectives.
As I walked out of the theater after the live recording, I was overcome with gratitude not only for Tig, Fortune and Mae, but also for a life that is full of curious people, wondering and wandering with me.
I hope more of us will work to emulate these three handsome hosts by centering voices that are not always centered, developing real relationships with folks at different points on the path, and practicing radical curiosity and care when we are lucky enough to find ourselves in handsome, which is to say human, company.


