Serving Authentic Butch Dyke Realness: In Conversation with Lea DeLaria

Holding the distinction of being the first openly gay comic on television in America, Lea DeLaria has made a career out of walking the line between being hysterically funny and politically astute. Not only has she put butch lesbians on the map, but she has made countless queer people laugh along the way.

DeLaria’s multi-faceted career as a comedian, actor, and jazz musician has spanned across decades, but she received overnight stardom with her three-time SAG Award winning role as Carrie “Big Boo” Black in Netflix’s hit series Orange is the New Black. There is no doubt that she has a gift of making her characters lovable and memorable. 

Recently, DeLaria closed POTUS: Or, Behind Every Great Dumbass Are Seven Women Trying to Keep Him Alive on Broadway, and she can currently be seen as Queenie in Hulu’s Reprisal and Molly Yarnchopper in Netflix’s animated series Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts. She is also featured in the film Potato Dreams of America, which has received rave reviews while on the festival circuit.

OFM caught up with the LGBTQ icon to talk more about her projects, having pride in always being her authentic self, and her involvement with the Lesbian Bar Project.

Lea, can you begin by telling us more about your film Potato Dreams of America? I heard it’s been received very well.

Yeah, it’s winning audience polls, even at international film festivals. It’s a quirky, fun little film based on the director’s life, Wes Hurley, and how he emigrated from Russia to America. His mother helped him do that when she was quite certain he was gay, and he would most likely die if he went into the military. They would kill him because that’s how queer people were treated in Russia in the early 90s. She is a fantastic mother and wants her son to be safe.

I play his grandmother in Russia, and I had a buttload of fun playing this role. Her entire life was nothing but negativity. Blatantly saying antisemitic shit without even realizing there’s anything wrong with it, and how the world is doomed. Everybody’s doomed. Everything that could possibly go wrong will go wrong with this woman, but she was such a fun character. She loves her grandson very much, and it shows. 

As an immigrant’s take on the American dream, what do you hope audiences take away from the film?

That’s an interesting question, but the reason why I’m infatuated with this film so much is because of the way it’s made. It’s such a beautifully well-done independent film. The first part of the film that takes place in Russia was done on a soundstage, and it looks incredibly theatrical, dark, and surreal. Then, when he comes to America, everything is bright and shiny! It’s like this immigrant view of what America is and could be. It’s very fun, quirky, and made even better by the fact that it’s a true story. 

I do think that what we as queer people in America need to understand is that we are leaps and bounds ahead of many other places. Like, I know what I was doing in the early 90s. I was doing film and television in America as an openly gay comic. This young man literally had to emigrate from Russia because they would have killed him if they knew he was gay. It speaks volumes. Many of us, especially those who live in larger cities, sometimes forget how bad it can be for others. 

Have you always had a passion and desire to work in entertainment?

Oh, absolutely. This is the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my life, and I’m so lucky that I get to do it. Whenever somebody on a set is having a weird hissy fit, I’m like, are you fucking crazy? Do you know how many people get to do what they actually want to do and are happy doing it? So, enjoy this. If I hear people backstage bitching, I’ll say, pull your shit together, bitch! This is fun. You are being paid to do the one thing that you’ve ever wanted to do.

One of your more recent projects was playing Bernadette in POTUS on Broadway. How did it feel to be back on stage, and what did you enjoy the most about being involved with this production?

Everything about this production was fucking brilliant. It’s one of the funniest, if not the funniest, scripts I’ve ever read in my entire life. Working with five-time Tony winner Susan Stroman, unbelievable. She is so good at what she does, and for me, this was completely different from any other theatrical experience. Every day, like during the rehearsal process, there were 35 people in the room, two of which were men, and one of them was as gay as a box of birdseed. There was a whole different process.

All due respect, but when women as a group tackle something, it always ends up different. There was much more listening involved, and of course, Susan was like any other director. There were plenty of, I’m right, you’re wrong. The difference is, she fucking listened to you. She would listen and then go, I see that, but I think I’m right. That’s when you have to go, well, she is Susan Stroman, and she does have five Tony Awards. Maybe I should listen to her. 

I’ve been a professional comedian since 1982, so I feel like I know comedy better than anybody. Susan was often right, but if she wasn’t, she would correct it within two performances and come to you saying, you were right. We need to do it this way. She didn’t have any issues saying you were right. A lot of male directors do have an issue with that.  

And you got to perform alongside so many incredible women.

These are such badass women! Rachel Dratch is a gift from God, and who knew Vanessa Williams and I had so much in common? I couldn’t believe it. The first day of rehearsal at the Shubert Theatre, it was time for lunch, and she asked where I was going. I said I was just going to Junior’s since it’s right there.  She’s goes, “I want a grilled cheese, French fries, and a beer.” I was like, I’m in love with you, Vanessa! (Laughs). 

Is it true that Selina Fillinger wrote the part of Bernadette with you in mind?

Yes, she wrote it with me in mind, and then I attached myself to it five years ago. From that point forward, any tweaks she did were for me.

Is there a certain kind of role you would love to play at some point in your career?

I’m dying for somebody to write a musical with a part that I can create and originate!

You began your career doing comedy, and you were the first openly gay comic to appear on television in America. How significant is that to you?

That’s a matter of major pride for me. I’ve never been in the closet, and at that time, the only other person who could say that was Harvey Fierstein. He knows that and I know that, and everybody else who was in the closet became famous before coming out. I was queer on American television in 1993, and that was three or four years before Ellen came out on her show. I always remained true to who I am and the things I had to talk about.

Even when I did The Arsenio Hall Show, I came out on stage, and the first line I said was, “Good evening. My name is Lea DeLaria; it’s the 1990s; it’s hip to be queer, and I’m a big dyke.” That’s how it started. I was always the bad girl lesbian of comedy. Like, I was always the girl that would fuck your wife or daughter. I was always the one making fisting jokes. I just had a different aesthetic in the way that I treated comedy, and I pull no punches. I’m in-your-face, loud, brazen, and brash. 

When The Arsenio Hall Show reached out to me, I was very pleasantly surprised, but I also felt the weight of the world on my shoulders because I was the first. At the time, Arsenio was the number-one late night talk show in America. It was watched by 20 million people, and it was live to tape, as they say. We taped at five, and it went out that night. Honestly, I kept thinking, what if I bombed? That would put gay comedy back 500 years, and no one’s going to hire another queer comic. 

Luckily, I didn’t bomb, and I killed. What we didn’t expect was the lawyers from Fox saying we couldn’t air my set because I used the words “dyke,” “fag,” and “queer.” It was counted that I said those words at least 37 times (laughs). The lawyers said we can’t use those words, and it was Arsenio who went to bat for me. He was like, if she wants to call herself a dyke, who are we to say she can’t? He fought the Fox lawyers, and it aired and killed. 

Orange Is the New Black was the first time we truly saw a butch lesbian portrayed in an authentic light, and it was also such a massive milestone for queer representation. How do you view the show’s legacy, and what did you take away from your time playing Big Boo?

I don’t know if you know this, but that was another part that was written for me. When I auditioned for Orange, I originally auditioned for two different parts. One was a prisoner, and the other was a guard. They were like, “I’m sorry, but we just don’t have a part for you.” I remember screaming in my manager’s office being like, “I’m sorry, they’re doing a television show that takes place in a women’s prison and there isn’t a part for me? Fuck this, I quit show business!” 

At the time, I was living in London and New York, so I packed up all my shit from my New York apartment and moved everything to London. Like, fuck this. I’m out. Then when I got off the plane, I had like a thousand messages from my manager going, “OK, you had your little hissy fit, and they said they were going to write a part for you. Well, they did.” So, they wrote Big Boo for me, and she wasn’t supposed to last past the fourth episode of the first season. 

Boo was such a favorite in the writers’ room and among the directors and creators, so they kept her going. Then every episode from that time forward was storylines, and then they made me a regular. I was a person that if I saw a group of teenage boys walking down the street, I would cross the street just to avoid conflict. There’s only so much I’ll put up with, but now, teenage boys are running up to me from wherever they are being like, oh my God, can I get a picture with you? They’re so excited.

I live in a Latinx neighborhood in Brooklyn, I live in Bushwick, and there’s a barber shop up the street that’s 100 percent Puerto Rican, and I’ll go there to get my hair done, and they’re all so excited whenever I come in. To me, that’s a major fucking change. It’s the one step we hadn’t taken as a community—winning the hearts and minds. I mean, we’ve done it with certain things, but it’s very shuffle-along kind of stuff. With Boo, she wasn’t expected to change or be different. 

So many people say that she’s their favorite character. They wrote great dynamic comedy to her, but they also wrote realness, especially in her backstory. Every butch has sort of a shared history, and they really hit every point. When I read the episode, I called Lauren Morelli. She wrote it, as well as almost every memorable line Boo said. I was like, “Did you read my diary?” She hit every point that butch dykes go, and it truly changed the face of butches. You see us in a lot of different things now. 

You are also involved with a major campaign called the Lesbian Bar Project. Can you tell us more about that?

The Lesbian Bar Project came to be when filmmakers Erica Rose and Elina Street reached out to me, and they did so because for years, I’ve been talking in interviews and on television about lesbian dyke bars disappearing and the different reasons why that’s happening. During the pandemic, these two women reached out to me and said they were doing this thing called The Lesbian Bar Project. They were trying to make sure that the less than 30 dyke bars in America remained open during the pandemic, and this was completely my brand. I’m in!

So, we joined forces, and there were three stages. There was a PSA announcement that we raised money with, and then there was a short that we did and also raised money with. We ended up raising a quarter of a million dollars to keep these dyke bars open. If it wasn’t for the money we raised, they would have 100 percent closed. Especially the Cubbyhole, which is my favorite. Now, it’s a limited series on Roku that premiered in October. Basically, I’m a narrator and we visit three different dyke bars in America, and we learn about the owners, the community, and the need for a safe space. 

Before we wrap up, are there any other upcoming projects or anything else you’d like to mention or plug?

I’m in Queer for Fear, which is a limited series done by Bryan Fuller, the creator of Hannibal. It’s one of those kinds of talking head things where they show scenes and stuff, and we sit in chairs and discuss it. Gay people have always loved horror, and I think part of the reason is, I talk about this pretty much at length, one, we identify with the monster. We are ostracized by society, blah, blah. Then two, we fucking love the camp aspect. So, that’s running on Shudder, and it’s awesome.

Other than that, I’m doing New Year’s Eve at my club in Provincetown, The Club, and my shows sell out very fast, so it’s best to make a reservation. Then I’m doing the Women’s Jazz Festival in Palm Springs in November. 

Stay up-to-date and connect with DeLaria by following her on Instagram @realleadelaria, or visit her official website, leadelaria.com.

Photos by Andrew Foord