The comedy scene where the joke’s on Jew-hate

If laughter is the best medicine, Israel might just have the antidote to these troubled times.

The live comedy scene in Tel Aviv, albeit more modest than in cities like London or New York, is thriving. And it’s not just restricted to Hebrew-speaking locals as a growing number of stand-up comics are now choosing to perform in English.

The best-known club for English-language comedy is the regular Funny Monday, hosted at Tel Aviv’s Bar Giora by funnymen Yohay Sponder and Shahar Hason – neither of whom are native English speakers. Dubbed “comedy with chutzpah”, the regular slot is aimed at tourists, olim and “Israelis with decent English” according to its website.

A veteran of 20 years in comedy both on stage and on screen, Sponder performs in both English and Hebrew but says most of his shows are now in English “because of the situation that my people are in right now”.

He and Hason initiated the idea as a response to the BDS and anti-Israel movement.

“They have a lot of lies that spread really fast and we wanted to have a voice of our own with our tool, which is comedy,” he says. “Today it’s become crazier because of the war and the growing antisemitism. So our voice is important.”

Yohay Sponder (Image: Facebook)[Missing Credit]

Sponder performs wearing a trademark large Magen David and fiercely calls out antisemitism and anti-Israel sentiments wherever he sees them. Performing in English has raised his profile and led to him performing extensively to Jewish communities worldwide.

His act varies between the two languages and is constantly evolving. “The show is a living thing. It’s changing all the time with the news, with my personal life, with who I am, with what’s going on,” he says.

“Listen, English is not my mother tongue, as you can already hear from this interview,” he laughs. “I’m not fluent so my improvisation is different and my train of thought and the way I react to things.”

The same can be said for the gig’s co-founder Hason, a top Israeli comedian and star of hit sketch show Eretz Nehederet (“A Wonderful Country”). Hason brings his high-energy humour to the show, but in less-than-perfect English.

The JC recently attended one of Hason’s open-mic sessions in Tel Aviv during which he mercilessly ribbed his audience and joked with them about his fluency, telling his Israeli fans that if they wanted to see him perform in Hebrew, they should have paid for the full-price version.

Also performing that night was Tomer Jamie Shaw, who describes himself as “Brisraeli”. Born in London but living in Israel since he was nine, Shaw is a professional actor who “fell in love” with live comedy after attending an open-mic session two years ago.

Tomer Shaw[Missing Credit]

He tells the JC: “My material explores the clash of my two cultural identities: on one hand, being polite and well-mannered, on the other, being impatient and hot-tempered (I’ll let you guess which is which). From school behaviour to waiting in lines, the differences are endless, and they’ve given me plenty to talk about on stage.”

His material has taken on a different dimension since October 7, however, as anyone who follows him on social media will know. He says he now feels “a responsibility to advocate for Israel in the battle for public opinion.

“We’re condemned left and right as the only democracy in the Middle East, while our neighbours wage wars and genocides with barely a fraction of the outrage. Comedy has become a powerful platform for Israeli comedians to speak out – what better way to make people listen than by making them laugh?

“In such grim and challenging times, there isn’t a single person in Israel untouched by 7/10,” he adds. “But as Jews, we are a people who cherish and celebrate life, unlike our neighbours, who glorify death. Our strength lies in our love for life and all its joys, and no matter what, we’ll keep laughing.”

Another stand-up performing in both English and Hebrew is former lawyer Ben Levko, the son of an American mother and Israeli father.

Ben Levko (Image: Yuri Siritsov)[Missing Credit]

“When I started doing shows in English, I realised that I have a different voice and identity than when I’m doing stand-up in Hebrew,” he says.

Earlier in his career he would try to find universal themes or things that would easily translate, but his focus now is on “making sure the people in front of me are laughing”.

In terms of how the scene has evolved since October 7, he says: “Generally the audience is coming for escapism, the comedians are coming because they enjoy doing it and some of them find it’s important to be able to talk about life during a war.”

Levko believes comedy can “really help” with the discussion around the war. “I think a lot of it is just being able to empathise with... wow, stuff is really tough right now,” he says, though he acknowledges that it remains a sensitive subject.

“I’ve had audiences quieten down on me very quickly when I start discussing things like that and I’ve had audiences where people have really been like OK. I have a whole bit about going abroad because that’s the only way you can really relax – you have to leave the country. It sounds critical and like a self-hating Jew but everybody empathised with it. That’s part of the Jewish humour I guess.”

Another regular on the scene is Alexandra Halevy, an American stand-up and comedy writer who has been described as a “pervy, middle-aged man trapped in the body of a cute Jewish lesbian”. She has performed extensively across the US and Europe but now sticks to Tel Aviv, where she lives.

Alexandra Halevy[Missing Credit]

She says that while tourism has obviously dropped since the war, “there’s no shortage of expats here” – though they are not the only ones who come to see English-speaking comedy.

“You get both,” she says. “You have on one hand predominantly Israeli crowds that speak English, but maybe not perfectly. Funny Monday is a great example of that. They literally go there to see Hason and Sponder do comedy in messed-up English. You know, like, that’s the funniness, that’s the entertainment for them.

“But then you get a lot of English speakers and it’s a blast. It’s kind of like performing in America again,” she says.

Yet things have changed since October 7 and that includes her act, she says. “Now that I’m here, I can talk about exactly what I want to talk about. I don’t have to censor or curate the content of my material. It just needs to be palatable for Israelis.

Matan Peretz[Missing Credit]

“So if I want to talk about radical Islam or criticise extremism or the enemy, I can do that because my material gets to now be for us. It doesn’t have to be for Americans who are going to censor me and cancel me. It’s definitely liberating.

“The whole reason for coming here is because we’re done hiding,” she says. “People come here because they want to deconstruct their assimilated identity – and that happens also as an artist.”

Performing in English was always important for stand-up Matan Peretz, who hopes to “break through to the international audience” – and the events of October 7 have certainly made that happen.

He is well known on social media and also performs at English-speaking comedy nights.

“Because of the war I’ve reached a lot of Jewish communities all over the world,” he says.

“When I do stand-up in English, obviously you have to be more international, talk about subjects that are understood worldwide.

“When I do it in Hebrew, it’s more like talking to my family. We’ve got our inside jokes.”

Peretz says the events of October 7, the subsequent war and the global fallout have impacted his material.

“My stand-up became less apologetic and more cut to the chase. I’ve never been too apologetic but my act in English was more careful because international audiences are way more sensitive and woke,” he says. But nowadays I feel like I’m way less apologetic with my jokes, particularly in the international arena.”

Tackling difficult subjects is part of his DNA as an Israeli comedian, he believes. “As Israelis our instincts are to make jokes and make fun of everything because that’s how we survive as a people,” he says.

“That’s why Holocaust jokes are a thing – because of us, not because of anyone else.

“I think the Jewish people – especially Israelis, who take it to the extreme – make jokes about everything all the time, that’s our way of dealing with tragedies.

“It’s a healing mechanism and it’s really helping us to cope with everything.”