Over the summer, Jacqueline Novak schooled New Yorkers on blowjobs inside of the city's oldest, continuously running off-Broadway theater, the haunted Cherry Lane —a legendary setting that probably hasn't been home to an hour-long dick joke, never mind a philosophical dissertation on all things phallic. But for weeks, 179 people a night were delivered a charming, poetic and personal take on oral sex, delivered with the kind of intense investigative humor that Novak has perfected. It was an excavation of the blowjob, a public re-examination of the act under a theatrical spotlight.

Her show, Get On Your Knees—which has names like John Early, Natasha Lyonne, and Mike Birbiglia (who has called her "the future of comedy") attached—was so popular that it got an extension and a bigger theater (the also haunted Lucille Lortel) almost immediately. And after an autumn break, it's now going to be returning in December. As director Early said, "Get your tickets now! Don't be that girl at the office who missed out!"

In August, I spoke with Novak about the show, as she folded merch T-shirts hours before making her grand, nightly re-entrance on to the stage, each time set to Madonna's "Like A Prayer." ("The song to me has kind of a spiritual pop thing that is just sort of sexual and has a sense of humor at the same time, it just fills me with a sense of joy," Novak tells me. "It's what I want to hear when I'm about to go on stage.")

Novak has probably been asked over a hundred times by now why she chose blowjobs as the subject for her show, when she could have easily dedicated an hour to french fries (you'll see). But I asked her anyway.

"You know, I didn't really pick it... I wrote this essay in college about my introduction in adolescence to the blowjob. Tracing the first time I heard about it, like a friend telling me about it and my reactions to it. And so I had given some thought about this kind of narrative journey around my evolving perspective... and because they're all kind of charged, because it's a blowjob, I remember them all very clearly, you know?" I do.

Novak tells me she recalls the first time she heard about them—"I remember everything that was ever said about that experience to me. I was worried about possibly feeling compelled to give one. You know, it's this charged kind of anchor of memory that allows me to kind of go back to different points in my life."

She also admits that part of the appeal was doing a full show about something "that people are a little uncomfortable talking about... Generally, I think that's good for all."

While she continues to have new thoughts on the subject, they aren't changing the show—"I have to actually kind of limit myself from letting my evolving thinking just keep going endlessly, I have to like stop myself from digging further into it [because then] I'll decide that, oh the show needs to be completely rewritten because I actually realize the much bigger truth."

INTERMISSION: When we spoke, there was hope the show would be filmed for a special, but at the moment there are no clips to share — so here's Novak delivering a solid six minutes on fries, and fry behavior.

I was at a performance early on and I think there was a man in the audience who may have said something to you, and I couldn't quite hear what, but you reacted to him. I was curious if you've had a lot of these kinds of real-time audience reactions? Yeah, he was right in the front row. In general, I haven't had too many vocal reactions to the show. Sometimes if you acknowledge them, then they just run with it too much and they start trying to make jokes. And it's an issue.

But the most distracting kind of audience response, the one that kind of irritates me the most, is when I can see people basically reading the program during the show. So it's sort of like they're going, 'Is this what I signed up for?' Looking at 'who the fuck is this bitch'... I mean I can't help but take offense to that choice, to open the playbill. It's one thing at a Broadway show, I don't know, someone thinks they recognize you and they just have to know if that's who it is or something. But I still think that that's the one that hurts me.

But I just try not to overly interpret people's responses, because it's really easy when you're in the vulnerable state of trying to communicate to people on stage to interpret a glance or an expression as judgmental. I saw this woman shaking her head a bunch, and I had to work through my irritation at it because it seemed very judgmental, and then at the end I got an email from her and her husband saying how much they loved it.

I've been reading a lot of the write-ups, calling the show poetic, spiritual, a hero's journey... Ira Glass called it a “nearly Talmudic dissection of a subject." What was your goal with the show, or what do you see it as? You know, I think it being presented theatrically versus just in a comedy club or something gives me some leeway to have a variety of experiences or the crowd have a variety of experiences. In a theatrical setting, I wouldn't necessarily be required to make people laugh every however-many-seconds, but I think it's fun to hold myself to the same kind of standard as I would in a comedy club in terms of laughs. So I think I think to me it's kind of fun to take the skills of standup into the theater space.

So I don't define it... I mean I sort of joke around and say I'm kind of expressing my spiritual world view. It's kind of an over-the-top thing to say but it also I guess is true. That's the sweet spot for me, I have an overly poetic sensibility and I like overreaching and I like being over the top and being enchanted by life. So in a way, my enthusiasm spilling over the edges of a stand-up show is kind of just the point, you know, the way that the form is unclear kind of serves me well I think.

And because we always want to ask a few NYC-centric questions, I later sent Novak a few over email:

What's your best Only in New York story? I did once see a plane flying low over the Hudson while I was driving up the West Side Highway. I commented to a friend I was on the phone with, she said, “That’s normal.” I was like, "No, it’s weirdly low." When I got home I saw in the news Captain Sully had landed his plane on the Hudson. I saw the Miracle on the Hudson.


What's your utopian idea to improve NYC? If energy were not an issue... my dream would be refrigerated trash cans/dumpsters so the trash doesn’t stink in the summer. Also, that dog owners should have to sop up pee puddles on sidewalks with a paper towel just as they are expected to clean up the dog’s shit.


Are New Yorkers suckers for punishment, do you have to be tough to make it in NY? You don't have to be tough to make it in New York if you don’t want to be. New York is easy to be reclusive in, for example, you could eat the best food in the world without having to go outside your apartment.