Review of Tig (2015) by Glenn G — 17 Jul 2015

TIG TALK, TICK TOCK - My Review of TIG (4 Stars).

I've been a fan of comic Tig Notaro's work ever since she started appearing on THE SARAH SILVERMAN PROGRAM in 2007 as the somewhat butch police officer aptly named Tig. She exuded a type of intelligence and masculinity rarely represented on television, someone with a quiet inner confidence. She reminded me of my lesbian sisters, someone I just knew could talk gender politics and pop culture in equal measure, and who could own how she presented herself to the world.

One night, my brother Gregg and I were having dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant on La Cienega next to the famed Largo nightclub and we noticed on the marquee that Sarah Silverman was performing with friends. On a lark, we bought tickets and entered a theatre only half full. One of the comics on the lineup was Tig, and she blew both of us away. Her delivery is slow, taking her time to stare the audience down as if to say, "I don't care what you make of me, you are mine for the next 15-20 minutes.".

It was that night when I knew she was destined for greatness. Little did I know that a short time later, her life would fall apart with a lift-threatening colon infection, the loss of her mother, a relationship breakup, and breast cancer. All of this is documented in TIG, the remarkable film which opened OUTFEST 2015 and is currently streaming on Netflix. Directed by Kristina Goolsby and Ashley York, and wonderfully written by Jennifer Arnold (who also directed additional material), TIG is way more than your basic disease-of-the-week movie. Sure, the cancer is front and center for much of its first half, but the filmmakers are smart enough to know that a rigorous documentary will search for deeper truths within. In the wake of her double mastectomy and battle with her infections, Tig struggles to find her voice as a comic again and to find love and meaning in her life at the same time.

This all sounds like pretty intense stuff, and much of it is, but what elevates the film (and Tig) is her endearingly wry outlook on life. Finding the humor in her medical scares,Tig performed what is now a legendary night back at Largo, a comedy set of such searing honesty and dark humor that news spread like wildfire. It helped that Tig had friends like Louis CK to sing her praises, but you will see in this film that her brilliance speaks for itself. There's so much creativity at work in how Tig's comedy is presented. Her famed Largo set, for example, is told through clever, well-placed subtitles since the club has had a longstanding NO VIDEO policy.

When given a new lease on life, this film asks the difficult question of "What the f*ck does one do?" In TIG, the answers come in beautifully-paced pieces. Tig isn't the warmest of documentary subjects, at least at first. She seems to hold her cards so close to her vest that I spent the first half of the film wondering if she was even an out lesbian. Like Tig's comedy, one must be patient to reap the wonderful rewards. Little by little, you see Tig opening up, trusting the filmmakers, and trusting herself.

With such openness comes such startling moments as Tig meeting a potential surrogate couple on Skype. They happened to be fans of her podcast, PROFESSOR BLASTOFF, and it seems obvious that the old Tig would never have been open to such an interaction in her past. Same goes for her love life, which when it's finally revealed to us (and to her), is such a beautiful experience. By showing us a budding relationship through sharply written text messages, we experience the chemistry in such a unique way, a way that had me rooting even harder for Tig's happiness. It makes you feel like if you can be the one to get Tig to open up, you're gonna be so lucky to reap the rewards. I won't reveal who her partner is, as watching it unfold is one of the film's greatest pleasures. Needless to say, I cried tears of joy (and sometimes tears of heartbreak) several times.

Late in the film, there's a stunning scene in which Tig says something so wonderful, so inspiring and hopeful, yet so vulnerable, that what follows is so utterly devastating I worried the filmmakers had painted themselves into a corner. "Just you wait," Tig seems to be constantly saying to her audience, "Just you wait, because I may surprise you." This life-affirming, totally generous documentary does just that.