“It’s wild, right? I’m famous!” exclaims comedian Leslie Jones in her latest special, “Life Part 2.” Dressed in a sparkly “Heart Breaker” tee and always armed with a towel (for those signature hot flashes), she genuinely wonders, “Why me? Seriously, why?” She jokes that she still pops into 7-Eleven in her PJs.
Her surprise is understandable. Jones has been honing her stand-up craft for over three decades, a journey that started when a college friend, Denita Abernethy, signed her up for a “Funniest Person on Campus” contest at Colorado State University, which she won! Yet, widespread fame only truly hit when she was 47, joining “Saturday Night Live” first as a writer, then as a cast member. Now 58 and splitting her time between Los Angeles and New York, Jones admits she wasn’t ready for such success in her younger years.
“Back in my twenties, I couldn’t even tell you who the president was,” she quipped. “All that mattered to me was finding the free tequila.”
Jones wasn’t merely indifferent; she carried significant personal burdens. She revealed she was sexually abused as a toddler by a babysitter. Her parents, Willie Jones Jr., an electronic engineer, and Sundra Diane Jones, a cable company employee who had a stroke at 38, faced their own difficulties. Her younger brother, Rodney (Keith), struggled with drug dealing. Then, at 19, after a disastrous set at The World, rising star Jamie Foxx delivered some blunt advice: “Go live your life and make some material — because right now you have none,” as she recalls in her memoir, “Leslie F*cking Jones.”
This tough feedback led Jones to step away from comedy for six years, during which she held various unconventional jobs. These included serving as a justice of the peace, and working multiple roles — bartender, hostess, waitress, and cook — at a single restaurant. She also spent time at two Scientology-affiliated businesses in Glendale, California (though she isn’t a Scientologist herself). Perhaps most fulfilling, she coached a summer league basketball team for 10- to 12-year-olds at the Y.W.C.A. It was these kids, among others, who urged her to return to stand-up. And this time, she had plenty of stories.
To fund her burgeoning comedy career, which saw her performing in L.A. hotspots like the Comedy Act Theater and Maverick’s, Jones worked at various restaurants, including the famous Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles. Around 2005, she famously pursued Chris Rock through an L.A. comedy club parking lot, pleading for connections. She recalls him telling her she wasn’t ready.
Rock, however, fondly disputes this. “Leslie is absolutely hilarious,” he stated in a phone interview. “She was always ready. It was the world that needed to catch up to Leslie Jones.”
He reiterated, “Leslie’s jokes are so expertly crafted, yet her delivery is so natural. She’s truly authentic, so you leave her performances feeling like you’ve genuinely spent time with her.”
Around 2010, Jones debuted a provocative joke she’d penned in 1997, later dubbed “The Slave Joke.” It was an instant hit, proving that her daring approach was fruitful. Chris Rock, always championing comedic talent, placed her at the top of his go-to list of funniest Black women for industry heavyweights like Lorne Michaels.
Rock urged Michaels to audition Jones, despite her lack of sketch comedy experience. Michaels took the advice, hiring her as a writer in 2014, then as a cast member. Her transition wasn’t without a fight: she recounted Michaels suggesting she “go down to feature pay,” but she insisted on payment for both writing and performing, as per her contract. Michaels agreed.
Joining “SNL” proved daunting, especially as the oldest cast member. “I didn’t realize until I got there that 47 was considered ‘older,’” she chuckled, noting that even “older” castmate Kenan Thompson was 11 years her junior. “I was never the adult in the room; Kenan was. My role was simply to show everyone that age doesn’t define you.”
“Leslie is an absolute force of nature and truly like a sister to me,” Thompson shared in an email.
Her signature style – a blend of confrontational humor and self-deprecation – quickly became her trademark. She masterfully lampooned the antics of problematic men while candidly admitting her own occasional missteps with them. These traits perfectly fueled her political commentary, polished on “Weekend Update” and now a regular feature on “The Daily Show” since March 2024.
With three Emmy nominations from her five seasons on “Saturday Night Live” (2014-2019), Jones’s career has skyrocketed. She’s now celebrating her third comedy special, has graced the silver screen in films like “Coming 2 America” and the all-female “Ghostbusters” reboot, held recurring TV roles, and hosted various award and game shows. Her 2023 best-selling memoir delves into her challenging journey to stardom, detailing encounters with racism, rejection, and deep personal loss. Through sheer determination, she has cemented her place as a household name.
“My ultimate dream was simply for tourists to recognize me and ask, ‘Leslie, picture, please!’” she shared. “As a true artist, you’re meant to entertain everyone.”
Become Undeniable
Among the pivotal experiences that ignited Jones’s courage and focus were the deaths of both her parents within six months due to heart-related illnesses. However, it was the loss of her younger brother in November 2009 that truly shattered her, prompting deep introspection. She realized her stand-up lacked a true foundation, having been solely driven by the pursuit of laughs.
Jones once feared her “smart jokes were too intelligent” for audiences, initially writing them with idols like Whoopi Goldberg or Marsha Warfield in mind, or saving them for “when I got really funny.”
This period plunged Jones into a profound existential crisis.
“At that point,” she reflected, “the worst thing wasn’t death itself, but losing someone you love.” She remembered her late father, whose greatest wish was for her to succeed. He’d told her she needed to “become undeniable.” Jones, inspired, revisited her old jokes, asking herself, “Am I smart enough for this?”
One such piece was “The Slave Joke,” born in 1997 out of a frustrating day and a container of cold fried rice. The routine depicts Jones, a towering former college basketball player, comically envisioning herself as a highly desirable enslaved woman in the pre-Civil War South.
“I wrote it out of pure anger, frustrated with the abysmal dating pool,” Jones explained. “I’m grateful I held onto it, because when the moment arrived to perform it, I was ready. I was in a headspace where I was almost seeking trouble, asking myself, ‘Is my brother truly gone? Is this real?’”
Initially, Jones recalled, “I faced backlash. People accused me of glorifying slavery,” which deeply unsettled her. Her response: “You’re simply not listening.”
She soon understood that the controversy itself became one of the joke’s strengths. “I was creating comedy that sparked conversations in people’s homes,” she realized. Jones’s signature is subverting power dynamics, turning subjugation into a comedic advantage for her persona. Though, she confessed with a laugh, “Deep down, it’s always about finding a man.”
If They’re Laughing, They’re Listening
In “Life Part 2,” Jones boldly ventures into sensitive subjects once more. She envisions her perfect funeral and comically confronts straight men about their hygiene (both physical and mental, as Jones is a big proponent of therapy), even tackling a #MeToo joke with careful, yet daring, precision.
After the 2016 all-female “Ghostbusters” reboot, Jones endured immense online racist and sexist abuse. Despite the distress, she maintains, “I can’t bring myself to hate anyone. When people attack me, I just feel pity. The persistence of racism is truly infuriating because, by now, it simply reflects a lack of education.”
Jones’s perspective is rooted in her own life. Born in Memphis, she spent her childhood as an Army brat at Fort Bragg, where she observed how parents subtly instilled racist attitudes in their children. She recalled a time when Black and white kids played together innocently, only for her mother to discover white parents using racist slurs against Jones. This prompted a difficult conversation about racism that profoundly impacted her.
Her father, having grown up in the Jim Crow South, had experienced racist violence and developed a profound “hate white people” – a sentiment she did not inherit. She theorized that if racism could be learned, it could also be unlearned, and this is where her comedy finds its purpose: if people are laughing, they’re also listening.
Just this month in Manhattan, while relaxing with friends outside the Village Underground – a favorite spot for her to test new material – Jones was approached by a young woman for a selfie. Before long, a diverse crowd of fans, from Gen Z to Baby Boomers, recognized her and eagerly requested their own photos. It was a realization of her lifelong dream.
“Even many MAGA supporters are my fans because I speak their language,” Jones proudly stated. “My audience ranges from 18 to 74. I genuinely try to create humor for everyone. When I write, I approach it from the perspective of a human woman, knowing that if it makes me laugh, it will make everyone else laugh too. I just want to bring laughter to the world.”