There aren’t enough column inches to accommodate all the adoring words I have for comediennes (and BFFs) Ilana Glazer and Phoebe Robinson. Glazer is the cocreator and costar of my favorite TV comedy, Broad City, and Robinson hosts two of my most-listened WNYC podcasts: 2 Dope Queens and Sooo Many White Guys. Like their separate projects, the 11-city “YQY” (“Yaaas Queen Yaaas”) tour is built around their longtime friendship and signature acronym. On the tour’s youthfully styled flyer, the two hold hands, demonstrating their now-flourishing careers have become intertwined by constant mutual support. Robinson had a cameo on the very first episode of Broad City and was a consultant for the show; Glazer is the executive producer of Sooo Many White Guys.
Seattle is the tour’s finale, and by now we know the format: The two dance onto the stage, warm up the crowd, and then flip a coin to decide who performs first. While they had no trouble selling out the Moore, both comics are less known for their stand-up than their successes as comedy writers, actors, and influencers.
After Glazer and Abbi Jacobson’s sketch comedy web series Broad City got picked up by Comedy Central and renewed for five seasons, Glazer got her start in film with the Hangover-esque Rough Night. Broad City fans are no doubt well acquainted with Glazer’s hilarious portrayal of sexually liberated stoner/fierce intersectional feminist Ilana Wexler, but perhaps not as many are aware of Phoebe “I like to speak in abbrevs” Robinson, who’s written a book (You Can’t Touch My Hair: And Other Things I Still Have to Explain), and teamed up with her friend Jessica Williams (The Daily Show, The Incredible Jessica James) for the geeky, stand-up focused podcast 2 Dope Queens.
It’s good, but I’m partial to Robinson’s interview-based Sooo Many White Guys and its deep, all too brief discussions with industry leaders who are women, people of color, minorities, LGBTQ—basically anyone who isn’t a cisgender, heterosexual white dude. (Once per season, Phoebe fills the male Caucasoid void with token white guys like Tom Hanks and Mike Birbiglia, who serve as a representative for all white guys everywhere.) Robinson proves herself to be a thoughtful, pleasant, and funny interviewer, who’s booked the likes of Issa Rae, Hasan Minhaj, Janet Mock, Roxane Gay, Bassem Youssef, and Nia Long.
As a Black (mixed) woman living in one of the whitest metropolises in the country, I enjoy that Robinson has mastered the art of dismantling the patriarchy and embracing diversity through her work, while also unabashedly celebrating all the white culture she loves. In a YouTube video from 2015, she delivers a stand-up routine with the help of PowerPoint, walking the audience through all her favorite “white people shit.” She quickly geeks out over various topics like Sex and the City, U2, Starbucks, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, and speaking in abbreviations (aka abbrevs).
As executive producer of White Guys, Glazer regularly appears on the show as a commitment to a recurring Broad City bit about her white guilt; Glazer pops up via phone to give Robinson a heartfelt apology on behalf of white people for things like plantation weddings or not gathering Gwen Stefani when she appropriated Asian culture.
I’m hoping Glazer and Robinson’s onstage act is as hilarious, refreshing, and adorable as their podcast interactions. They share a knack for nuanced conversations about feminism, sex, and pop culture; their innate humor and real-life friendship should make their shared tour a blast.
Expect the comics to discuss everything from their sex lives and respective relationships (Robinson has been dating someone for a few months; Glazer is married) to gentrification and personal grooming habits. From the sound of it, the show will be in the same spirit as Broad City’s choice to bleep out 45’s name: It should give audiences a break from hearing about the terrifying and exhausting state of the nation, and create laughter through female support systems. All together now: Yaaas Queen Yaaas!