Before last week, audiences could have been introduced to Hannah Berner in several ways, depending on media consumption and the status of cable subscriptions.
They may know her from the Bravo reality series Summer House, where she was a cast member for two seasons. Then there is her podcast Giggly Squad, which she co-hosts with her friend and one-time Summer House castmate Paige DeSorbo. Or, they could have seen her on TikTok, where has 3 million followers and often goes viral for her man-on-the-street style interviews.
Recently, Berner was introduced to her biggest audience to date when her first stand-up special, We Ride at Dawn, hit Netflix and was immediately catapulted into the streamer’s Top 10 most popular shows among its TV offerings. In the special, Berner riffs on Disney princes, birth control and guns, the latter in a bit about the implications of girls using firearms as accessories.
“Yesterday, I was starving, and I had to pee, and I was standing outside of a Target waiting to do a podcast,” says Berner, two days after the release of her special. “I was like, if anyone saw me right now, they would never think that I just put out a special on Netflix. They’d be like, ‘Are you okay? Do you need your mom?’”
Berner talked to THR about using TikTok as her open mic and how reality TV helped her find stand-up.
You have described your comedy as “female locker room”. How did you get to that descriptor?
A lot of comics start by emulating other styles and then find their own voice. I just always had my voice, trying to make my friends laugh. On my podcast Giggly Squad, if Paige [DeSorbo] laughs, I think there is something to that bit. [My voice] is very, “you’re at brunch, and you’re trying to make fun of everything.”That’s all I know. I wasn’t trying to fit into a particular mold of a stand-up. I have still definitely been inspired by other stand-ups — I grew up watching Chelsea Lately — but I definitely want my comedy to feel very conversational.
Do you think that your style developed in this way because you took such a circuitous route to stand-up?
1,000 percent. When you’re going up the traditional standup ladder, you have a lot more voices saying, “This is how you should do things.” I’m someone who — going the traditional way where there are gatekeepers — maybe would have never been chosen. I talk about this a lot: For women in stand-up, it isn’t always easy to do the traditional route. You’re going to the Bronx or Brooklyn at 11 pm, to a bar with a bunch of drunk dudes. You can feel that maybe this isn’t for me, and has nothing to do with how funny you are. You’re just in this space doesn’t feel right. I hope that people can see that you don’t have to go the traditional route, where you may feel unsafe or not welcome. Now, TikTok I use as my open mic. I just think of a bit and try to come up with a punchline and post it. My whole gun bit started from a TikTok rant that then developed over two years to become what it is now.
Have you found bits that work better on social media that just don’t translate to the stage and vice versa?
I do think the TikTok algorithm means that some stuff will pop off on TikTok, and then I’ll try it on stage and I realize that I just got lucky with the algorithm. It’s relatable, but it’s not going to get a big laugh on stage. But ultimately to start a joke you need a bit that brings emotion from people. So, if I have a tweet about something like, “When you put your tampon in at the wrong angle, it could really ruin your day” — if no one responds to that, I’ll be like, okay, I’m just weird. But when I get some engagement, I go, we can get a premise [for a joke] from that.
Is there pressure to make comedy that has broader appeal, especially when getting into bigger venues and for specials?
Recently, I played the Wynn in Vegas, and I remember the security guards were like, “‘”We’ve never in the history of this venue seen this amount of women come into the show.” It couldn’t bring me more joy. I was inspired by Leanne Morgan, who put out a special on Netflix. She’s a mom, and Netflix kind of took a risk with her. It was her first special, and she blew up because women love comedy. Women love complaining, we are socially intuitive, and we want to gossip, so we are all stand-up comedians. Men did not get me here. No man chose me to get here. So, why would I speak to them? (Laughs.) I would say, all the men are welcome. I love it when they come, and I feel like they’re getting educated, and they’re laughing with their girlfriend. The female experience is fucking hilarious.
At the top of your special when you are introduced, the laughter is just a wave—
My opener will say, “It’s maybe it’s the highest pitch I’ve ever heard.”
The crowd really did sound different from the laughs in other specials I have watched.
I joke that hot girls love to yell. When two girls see each other, it’s not “Oh, hey, Stephanie.” It’s, “Stephanie!!” I didn’t realize until watching it in the edit that there’s a lot of yelling and screaming happening. At one point, some girl was crying and holding another girl’s hand. It was like the women’s bathroom at a club, which is the most fun place to be in a club. It’s all gossip and emotions, it’s where everything’s happening.
Before you go on stage, security will be like, “‘”How do you want to deal with hecklers?” And I’m like, look, I don’t get heckled. It’s more girls yelling out positive things, or they’ll be drunk, tell me it’s their birthday. That’s part of my show. Crowd control is something I’ve been working on for a long time, because we’re all in it, together. I’m not giving a speech. Some girls would yell stuff, and some of it was hilarious. At one point, I’m like, “What are dicks made of?” And someone goes, “Disappointment!”
There is a lot of physicality in your show — you get on the floor and do the worm to open your special. I have a practical question: How did you choose what you wore on stage?
I joke that I cared way more about how I looked in this special than at my wedding. I was working with a stylist, and she kept giving me like really cool looks, but I was like I can’t make a queef joke while looking this classy and serious. I’m a performer, your outfit has to match your energy. It’s easy to go with the sequin blazer. I love a sequin blazer! But I didn’t want to do the sequin blazer, I wanted to try to have a fun fashion moment with it. Paige, my best friend, was like, “You have to wear heels.” But my jokes don’t hit when you can tell that I’m uncomfortable standing. I ended up going with these booties. People have a lot of comments when I post clips about what I’m wearing, but there’s always a story behind it. Sometimes, I might have had a chicken sandwich right before, and I feel bloated. So I don’t want to wear my dress in front of 1,000 people and I throw on a blazer that doesn’t match the dress, then everyone’s upset. Look, I’m just trying to survive.
You have shared your life on reality TV, social media and now stand-up. What are the differences you have found between sharing yourself on these platforms?
Like anyone, my biggest fears were being misunderstood or people not liking me. It doesn’t matter how successful, you are thinking, “Is anyone mad at me? Are you guys okay?” I have experienced seeing myself through different lenses and in different narratives. It definitely made me want to go on stage, which is the rawest form of putting yourself out there. It’s my narrative and it’s my voice. When I’m on stage I’m not thinking about anything else, I have to be present. I love being able to have an idea that’s mine and then for it to be something physical. But reality TV helped me realize that I love being in front the camera, which is sometimes hard to admit. I loved making the producers laugh and the camera guys laugh and finding the funny in things, but that was not important for reality TV. It didn’t help the story, and it ended up on the cutting room. So I figured if I’m going to do something else, I need to think about what am I good at. And, let’s lean into that.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
