Comedian Cristela Alonzo has been killing it for years. In 2011, she had audiences roaring with her segment in Legally Brown, a comedy special showcasing non-white comedians in which she was the only woman. Three years later, she became the first Latina to create, produce, write, and star in her own primetime sitcom, Cristela. And in 2017, she got her first Netflix special, Lower Classy, while also becoming the beloved voice of Cruz Ramirez in Pixar’s Cars 3. Since then, she’s had a second Netflix special (Middle Classy), hosted a reboot of Legends of the Hidden Temple, written a memoir, toured a ton, and got the keys to the city of McAllen, Texas (right outside of her hometown of San Juan). Undoubtedly one of the hardest-working Latina comedians, Alonzo is now making history as the first Latina to have three Netflix specials under her belt. Her new special, Upper Classy, gives audiences a glimpse at what it’s like to go from growing up in poverty as a first-generation Mexican-American to being able to take family vacations.
If you’re familiar with Alonzo’s blend of observational humor and light-hearted-to-heartfelt storytelling, you’re in for a lot of the same with Upper Classy – and that’s a wonderful thing. Decked out in a sparkly jumpsuit, Alonzo immediately greets her audience with a joke about ICE. Anyone who follows her on Instagram knows, Alonzo isn’t afraid to get political. She understands the importance of calling out bullies, whether they hold political office or were just mean about Alonzo wearing Payless shoes as a kid. There is no punching down with Alonzo – she reminds us all to aim at higher targets, instead.
Alonzo’s jokes cover a wide range of Latina-centered experiences. She leans into just how much Latinas love holding grudges (“We love god and hate everyone else,” she riffs), then seamlessly transitions into what Latina moms specifically love even more – their sons. At another point, she tackles the ways in which the elder women in her childhood neighborhood believed she was a lesbian simply for wearing pants. Huge laughs erupt when she recalls her experience getting a body scrub for the first time (this bit was equally well-received when I saw her live earlier this year).
But throughout the special, Alonzo makes sure to remind her audience to take time for themselves. Self-care, and not necessarily in body scrub form, is important, she relays. Watch any of her other stand-up routines, and you’ll hear about the days before she began to make it. The tiny town she grew up in. The bed she shared with her mother. The way her late mother never really took time for herself. These stories resonate especially hard with all of us who grew up lower-income, who saw how hard our parents worked to give us the best life they could. But Alonzo’s truths are also easily translatable to anyone who’s ever struggled in any way, shape, or form. And they’re especially relatable for those of us who don’t have a trust fund to fall back on, and who recognize that hard work doesn’t always (or even often) pay off.
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In this special, Alonzo is finally feeling Upper Classy. And she’s not about to hoard her success – the second half of her act is all about her taking her family on vacations, a luxury they’d never had before. Without outwardly saying so, she reminds us to be generous, especially if and when we ever “make it.” For Alonzo, leaning into joy isn’t just about being able to put your bills on autopay (although that truly is an incredible feeling). It’s also about helping others experience that joy with you, and not letting anyone talk themselves out of rest.
At a time when our government is launching multiple attacks on our community, it feels especially crucial that we find joy – and laughs – to get through it all. Not a day goes by where I don’t see another harrowing video of masked ICE agents kidnapping people who look like my father, harassing people who remind me of my mother. You turn the news on, and suddenly you read that the Supreme Court has decided it’s perfectly fine to racially profile people in the interest of detaining and deporting more people. White nationalists seem to get to do what they want, and the rest of us watch in horror. But not everyone is going to stand by and watch. Alonzo stands up and tells it like it is.
There are a lot of bad comedians out there. Comedians who punch down at vulnerable populations. Comedians who double down on lousy jokes. Comedians who only got to where they are due to their level of privilege and don’t even recognize it. Alonzo isn’t one of them. She’ll remind you that her mother came from a ranchito with no running water or electricity. She’ll remind me that my abuelita came from similar, humble beginnings. And then, she’ll make you laugh, because she knows this is a goddamn marathon we’re experiencing, not a sprint. And joy is essential in this fight.
Cristela Alonzo’s special, Upper Classy, premieres September 23 on Netflix.
