For all that comedian Ali Wong talks about sex onstage, her first three specials came from a place of inherent sexual constraint: a long-term, monogamous marriage.
In “Single Lady,” her fourth, self-directed hour, all guardrails are off. Two years ago, Wong got divorced from her husband of nearly a decade. Wong now narrates in the same gleefully graphic detail she once applied to the birth of her first child. “I really went on a tear,” the 42-year-old says, and has the anecdotes to show for it.
But with “Single Lady,” Wong wants to do more than simply recount her exploits to an ecstatic crowd at L.A.’s Wiltern Theater. The stand-up wants to reframe the middle-aged divorced woman from a pathetic figure, per popular stereotype, into a triumphant one, with herself as the leading example.
“Look how much fun I’m having,” she exhorts her audience.
Wong makes a convincing case, albeit less about the broader condition of midlife divorce than her own highly exceptional set of circumstances — starting with the fact that her own split was national news, an experience she calls “a bat signal letting all potentially interested men know I was suddenly available.”
Those men include, in Wong’s telling, a famous film director; a 25-year-old who sent the performer her first-ever thirst trap video; a 60-year-old who screamed when he climaxed; a Japanese American drummer; and a white guy who couldn’t tell a tea cup from a rice bowl.
“I’m not trying to trap a man anymore,” Wong explains, nodding to the running theme of her breakout special, 2016’s “Baby Cobra.” Liberated from the confines of commitment, she’s free to sample all the modern meat market has to offer.
“Baby Cobra” ended on a brilliant reversal. For all Wong’s insistence that she just wanted a rich husband to take care of her, it was she who ended up paying off her spouse’s student loans. This bait-and-switch established money and the agency it affords as the skeleton key to Wong’s body of work, which now includes an Emmy-winning role in “Beef” as well as her comedy. Motherhood, Asian American identity and transgressive profanity are all signature motifs, but it’s wealth that Wong discusses with a truly unique level of candor and pride, in “Single Lady” as in prior releases.
Wong insists that her suitors pay for the first date.
“I know that sounds crazy,” she smirks. “Because I’m a millionaire.”
As such, she’s able to fly her hookups out to L.A., stock her house with Toto toilets and, most importantly, approach dating as a “financially independent divorced mom.” For most women, partnership is as much an economic institution as a romantic one. For Wong, dating is purely about her own desires, a mindset most of her civilian peers will view as aspirational escapism rather than a realistic model.
“Don Wong,” her 2022 special, displayed a similar level of bravado. Of all the taboos Wong breaks, from getting into the gory truth of breastfeeding to working blue while visibly pregnant, the unabashed embrace of her own success may be the most challenging of all to social norms. In “Don Wong,” where Wong opined on the secrets to a healthy marriage, this disposition flirted with self-satisfaction. And in “Single Lady,” Wong is still far from vulnerable — she opens the special by admitting the publicity around her divorce made her feel ashamed, but she closes it by stressing that she’s best friends with her co-parent and ex. The reasons for the marriage’s end are never discussed.
From her new vantage point, however, Wong’s confidence has a more defiant cast. When she dumps a fling, she’s more interested in mining the exchange for material than managing her date’s feelings; when admirers shower her with gifts, she has no compunctions about accepting the free swag, whether or not she plans to actually go out with the sender.
One of the special’s few false notes is Wong’s repeated self-identification as “a kind 6,” in contrast to the 10s men her age were after the last time she was navigating single life. To her credit and our enjoyment, Wong is clearly neither average-looking nor especially gentle with others. One of the best bits of “Single Lady” sees her express naked condescension towards insecure male comedians and the younger women they make her babysit at various dinner parties. It’s not very sisterly of Wong to sneer at “Insta-hoes,” but it is a true expression of some less-than-PC feelings.
Wong’s fans already know the title of “Single Lady” is something of a misnomer. Since last year, the comic has been in a public relationship with Bill Hader, a relationship she alludes to throughout the hour without mentioning her new partner by name. (She specifies she could only seriously spend time with a divorced dad, because she needs a man who comes “pre-yelled at.”) This development gives Wong a neat ending, and allows her to frame her exploration as a closed, finite chapter she can synthesize into her act. Despite such broad thesis statements as “for women, 40 is the golden age — to get divorced,” though, it’s apparent Wong’s last two years were as extraordinary as her talents. Not all divorcées will find themselves as sought-after as Wong did in the immediate aftermath, and almost none will turn their saga into an account this entertaining. “Single Lady” is far from a how-to guide, but it’s a riveting testimonial.
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