The more specific comedy legacy that Dimoldenberg shoulders is one of deliberate awkwardness. Chicken Shop Date operates in the social register of Zach Galifianakis’s Between Two Ferns, Eric Andre’s The Eric Andre Show, and Ziwe Fumudoh’s Ziwe — all comedy talk shows that gained cult followings because of their hosts’ willingness to make their guests uncomfortable. For guests, successfully navigating the hosts’ antics became evidence of latent cool. Barack Obama’s deadpan delivery on Between Two Ferns, in comparison with Hillary Clinton’s stodgy self-seriousness, was a microcosm of their relative relationships with the entire Democratic Party.
Fumudoh’s work is even more provocative. In spring 2020, she gained notoriety for her Instagram Live interview series, Baited with Ziwe, on which she hosted multiple white celebrities looking to redeem themselves after internet scandals and smiled toothily as they attempted to save face. Fumudoh asked food writer Alison Roman, who got in trouble for disparaging the business enterprises of Chrissy Teigen and Marie Kondo, who were both — coincidentally and unfortunately — Asian women, to “name five Asian people.” Roman stumbled. Fumudoh’s fans ate it up.
But Dimoldenberg’s persona isn’t stoned, frenetic, or faux-sympathetic, like those of Galifianakis, Andre, and Fumudoh respectively. She’s awkwardly flirtatious, which takes no less steely resolve. If the pleasure of watching other awkward talk shows is akin to schadenfreude — thank god I’m not that guest getting absolutely skewered! — the joy of Chicken Shop Date is more like cheerleading. It’s like sending your funniest best friend to flirt with someone who’s way out of your league, knowing she might be the only one who has a chance. Sometimes it elicits jealousy. One Twitter user wrote of Dimoldenberg’s rapport with Garfield, “It’s hard to see other people living your dream.” But mostly it’s incredible to witness her unwavering commitment to the bit. In praise of Dimoldenberg’s exchange with Kaluuya, a different fan said, “This girl is stronger than the entire US Navy.”
Dimoldenberg has carved out a space to revel in the delightful uncertainties of flirting. It can be goofy, it can be sarcastic, it can even be — as with the Eisenberg–Puga setup — a little mean. But the deliberateness with which she’s set the tone of her series allows it to flourish. Getting everyone on the same page — it’s going to be awkward, it’s going to keep you on your toes, I’m probably going to flirt with you, but you can flirt right back — allows guests to truly play in the social landscape she’s created. She’s taken the thrill of scrutinizing celebrities’ flustered charm and given it a cozy home. ●
