My safe space is under threat
Juliana Heng talks to Francis Clarke about life as an autistic stand-up comedian, censorship in Kuala Lumpur, and the upcoming Edinburgh Fringe...
It was shortly before speaking to me that Malaysian comic Juliana Heng found out they had secured a run at the Edinburgh Fringe for their show, Walking On Spectrum. While hugely excited, they acknowledged the challenges they could face as an autistic comedian at the busy festival.
‘It’s my first visit so I’m afraid I’ll get overstimulated,’ they said. ‘I thought I’d have a routine of doing my show then go home; but I have to flyer, do random shows, and watch other shows. It’s going to be crazy.’
However, it doesn’t thwart Heng’s ambition: ‘Whatever happens, I want my show to be big. We Asians don’t do small!’
Heng is a non-binary and LGBTQ+ comedian on the Kuala Lumpur stand-up scene. They were diagnosed with ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) in 2019 at the relatively late age of 28. They were performing on stage by then, and already felt stand-up gave a space to express themselves freely.
They said: ‘I have this problem where people talk around me, and I have difficulty knowing when to speak and when to stop speaking. On stage however I’m given a specific time to talk and just make people laugh. It’s a direct communication.’
During their show, Heng jokes that as an ASD person they can only identify three out of the 15 recognised types of laughter, while knowing there were exactly 15 specific types of laughter. They explain a joke by another ASD comedian who said they are an expert on other people’s shoes. ‘I laughed so much at that because we are not so good with eye contact, and I can relate.’
Heng explained that on stage: ‘We can explain our quirks with the time, space and understanding we might not get in the outside world.’
In the world of stand-up there are a number of comedians who identify as ASD. Both Fern Brady and Hannah Gadsby, have discussed their ASD as part of their shows. Even Jerry Seinfeld once said he had ASD, though he later retracted this claim.
Heng explained why autistic people may be attracted to comedy, apart from the freedom it gives by allowing them to talk openly about the disorder, saying: ‘It’s a solitary profession. We write alone, go on stage alone and perform to strangers. We are comfortable in that medium.
‘People who are on the spectrum, if something bothers us constantly or we have a fixation, then we can write about it.’ And Heng’s fixation? ‘Pokemon Go. I think I’ve played that game longer than all of my day jobs put together.’
A study from 2020 suggested that stigma of ASD was higher in so-called ‘collectivist’ cultures such as Malaysia, where extended family is considered important and a dependable source of mental health support, as opposed to the first step automatically being a general practitioner visit. Lack of access to healthcare is also cited as an issue.
The sense of stigma struck a chord with Heng. They said: ‘The understanding of autism in Malaysia is still not really there. It’s improving because awareness is increasing and more people are willing to learn. I’ve had some local media outlets want to speak to me about my autism, and when I explain it more people are starting to understand it.’
Heng’s ‘safe space’ might be under threat though. During the past year, the topic of stand-up comedy and freedom of speech became a source of heated debate in Malaysia. In July 2022, the Crack House Comedy Club in Kuala Lumpur was closed. While the official line was that it was operating without an entertainment licence, reports suggest it was closed because of a religiously sensitive routine that took place at the club.
Also, shortly afterwards, one of the club’s co-founders, Rizal Van Geyzel, was arrested and charged for making and sharing social media material that was considered offensive or menacing. He was charged under the country’s Communications and Multimedia Act.
Talking about Van Geyzel’s arrest, Heng said: ‘He made a joke about his mixed parentage, not even about Malaysia, and because one of his parents is Malay [the country’s largest ethnic group], people said it was offensive.
‘In Malaysia there is a sedition act where if somebody feels disturbed by what you said, it can be seen as disturbing the national peace. It’s quite messed up. It’s a matter of knowing where you are and what you can say, so I think that is censorship.’
Heng points out that at comedy clubs in Malaysia, people are asked not to take footage of the show in case of repercussions if posted online. While they feel free talking about their ASD, there are other aspects of Juliana’s identity they must think about discussing on stage.
‘We can’t fully be ourselves. My jokes are mainly about autism, but also some about being queer. The autism side is the comedy part of me, but the queer side is the more private side. If there is something I feel people aren’t sure of, then I just don’t talk about it.
‘If I talk about my queer side and it’s recorded, it could be taken out of context online,’ they added.
Returning to their Edinburgh Fringe show, Heng said: ‘It’s a medley show, so it’s a mix of comedy, spoken word, poetry and storytelling. I wanted to explore being an Asian, neurodivergent, LGBTQ+ and non-binary person. If I pitched this as purely a comedy show, people would be throwing bottles at me!
‘The beauty of being neurodivergent is the way we perceive things about us. There is no standard roadmap, and we can experiment. In Malaysia, there is no reference to autistic people doing comedy. I’m the first reference.
• Juliana Heng’s show, Walking on Spectrum, is running at The Strathmore Bar in Leith at 3pm from August 5-27.
• This article was originally printed in the Summer 2023 edition of Index on Censorship, out now.
Published: 27 Jul 2023