If you’ve ever wondered what performing on OnlyFans, voicing Judy Carter in Portuguese and defending Mercury in retrograde have in common, the answer is Manu Maciel.
The Brazilian comedian has built a career that happily ignores borders, bouncing between English and Portuguese, internet sketches and international stages, with the kind of brain that can find a joke almost anywhere. Thankfully for audiences, it usually does.
Before all of that, though, there was a cassette tape that landed in her life at exactly the right time. Years later, she’d learn the voice on it belonged to Dave Chappelle. By then, comedy had already done what it does best.
We caught up with Manu to talk about bilingual stand-up, surviving bad sets, writing for other comics and why the setup deserves a little more applause than the punchline.
You say you’re addicted to laughs. Do you remember when that started?
I was in my mother’s womb, literally, positioned incorrectly, which made delivery complicated. My mom wasn’t having contractions, so the doctor asked the medical staff to tickle her. The laughing changed her breathing and started the contractions. The whole situation was hilarious, everybody started laughing, and that’s the moment I was born: into a room full of people laughing uncontrollably. Laughter was the first sound I heard. Moral of the story: I’m always positioned incorrectly.
Many comedians say they were drawn to comedy. You were pulled out of something dark by it. Tell us that story.
I was going through a dark period of my life when I found a cassette tape (Spotify’s great-grandmother) with a man telling a funny story. Brazil hadn’t figured stand-up out back then, so I had no idea what or who I was listening to. I just knew it was hilarious. Every time things got too hard, I’d play the tape as my “just for today” moment. That was the first time I understood comedy could help with healing. Only years later, when I started studying comedy, did I find out the man on the tape was Dave Chappelle. Thanks for the save, Mr. GOAT!
You’ve said stand-up wasn’t established in Brazil when you were growing up. But was there a Brazilian figure, on TV or radio, who shaped how you think funny?
Yes! Jô Soares! He was like Johnny Carson had a baby with Mel Brooks born in Brazil. I was so obsessed with him that even though his late-night show started at 11:30PM and I had school in the morning, I’d watch him religiously. It got to the point where I went to a different school so I could study in the afternoon and watch him without looking like a zombie the next morning.
You’re the only Brazilian comedian to perform at all three Netflix Is A Joke Festival editions with your own show. What was your favorite moment?
When you frame it like this, I almost feel like it’s time to start paying for my own Netflix subscription. :.)
I was born in Campos dos Goytacazes, Brazil, surrounded by a huge sugarcane plantation. TV was the only way I could see the world. Cut to now, and I’m performing at a festival alongside people I used to watch on TV. Just to say, the whole thing still hard to normalize. But carrying the Brazilian flag on stage with me is a good feeling. Seeing Brazilians in the crowd applauding our flag, it feels like the Olympics, except I’m terrible at sports, so this is the only way I can represent my people.
You’ve written jokes about mental health, cultural clashes and immigration. Has there ever been a moment you faced backlash on your material? If so, how did you tackle it?
Yes, it’s an occupational hazard. Comedy pulls an emotional response, so when you make something people truly love, you have to be okay with the fact that others will hate it. We all have haters, so the real question is: who are yours? I honestly find it flattering to be criticized by people who think chocolate milk comes from brown cows. Before caring about what’s being said, it’s worth checking who’s saying it.
Now, how does it feel to be the Brazilian voice of Judy Carter?
One of those things where you don’t know if it really happened or if you were just too high. I studied Judy’s book (and still do!), I was her student, so getting to work with her is already dreamlike. She’s just as amazing as she is humble. I’m always learning from her, so using my voice to preach her comedy gospel in Portuguese was a true honor.
Being a bilingual comedian sounds glamorous on paper, but in reality it’s twice the work… How do you manage the exhaustion of writing two sets in parallel, and is there a language you find yourself writing in first?
I have severe ADHD and I’m on the spectrum, so mental and creative exhaustion is my default mode. But I wouldn’t say it’s twice the work, I rarely translate jokes. The premise usually comes to mind already in the language the joke is going to be developed in.
Every comic has a theory about where a joke lives or dies: premise, setup, punchline, tags. What’s yours, and why does getting it wrong cost more than people think?
The setup. Always the setup. And yes, a weak punchline is a crime, but a strong setup is what makes the punchline almost inevitable in retrospect. If the setup is airtight, you can play with the mechanics, keep adding punches, and the whole structure holds. I love the way Chris Rock does that so brilliantly. Getting a weak setup and trying to compensate on the punchline is like building a skyscraper on a swamp.
You also write for other comics. How do you feel when they butcher your joke?
Fortunately, it doesn’t happen often, mostly because when I’m writing for other comics I fully channel their persona, so it’s their point of view, not mine. I think of myself as a surrogate: I receive a premise embryo, nurture it, grow it, and when it’s fully formed, I give it back. As Michael Jackson would say: “The kid is not my son. No! hee-hee-hee!”
Has there ever been a point where you were just bombing on stage? Did that make you question your decision to be a comic? And what helped you come out of that dump?
Not consecutively, no. I’m very self-critical, so when I bomb I go home, cry in a fetal position, and eat ice cream and pizza while listening to sad songs. It’s like a breakup from a set that wasn’t good. Then I get back to the drawing board to understand why it didn’t work. That’s the hardest part for a bilingual comic: you add extra layers of doubt. It’s not only “is the setup strong?” or “was this the right punchline?” but also “did they understand what I said?”, “did my accent mess up that word…
Bombing is part of the job. It doesn’t make me question being a comic, it makes me question how I can be a better one.
You’re not just a stand-up comedian but also a voice-over artist, and you’re killing it on social media too. Your “Portal dos Mundos” episodes are so well thought out. How do you come up with those ideas?
Thank you! I have what I like to call “pathological empathy”: I’m compulsively thinking in different points of view. If I order takeout, I feel judged by yesterday’s avocado in my kitchen, whispering in Master Yoda’s voice: “Time, we are running out of.”
Brazilians are huge fans of astrology, and I’d see videos about the negative impacts of Mercury in retrograde. In my mind, Mercury had something to say, so I gave him a voice. Same with Pluto, still not over losing his planet status, and the Moon, confused about why everyone photographs her when she’s feeling bloated.
Who are your other stand-up idols?
How much time do we have?
Lenny Bruce, Phyllis Diller, Dick Gregory, Richard Pryor, Paul Mooney, Robin Williams, Dave Chappelle, Ricky Gervais, Jimmy Carr, Tig Notaro… I could keep going, but my therapist says I need to learn to summarize.
And that’s Manu Maciel: part comedian, part joke engineer, part professional overthinker. She can explain why a setup matters more than a punchline, make a room laugh in two different languages, and somehow convince you that planets have feelings too.
The funny thing is, beneath all the jokes, there’s someone who still talks about comedy the way most people talk about finding home. Maybe that’s why it resonates. It isn’t just about getting the laugh. It’s about what the laugh gets you through.
So if you find yourself in the audience at one of her shows, laugh loudly. She’s earned it. And if Mercury happens to be in retrograde that week, well… at least you’ll have something to blame if the jokes don’t land.