In July 2012, comedian Tig Notaro faced a life-altering moment: a diagnosis of cancer in both breasts. This news came on the heels of a series of devastating personal events, creating a period of intense hardship. However, in the face of this adversity, Notaro responded in a way that would redefine her career and resonate deeply with audiences worldwide. She took to the stage at Largo in Los Angeles and delivered a performance that was raw, honest, and unexpectedly legendary.
This performance, born from personal tragedy, became a turning point. Fellow comedians, including Louis C.K., recognized the power of her set and helped spread the word, amplifying its reach through social media. The impact of that night is further explored in “Tig,” a Netflix documentary released in July 2015, which chronicles Notaro’s life and career in the aftermath of this pivotal moment.
In a January 2015 interview at the Sundance Film Festival, Notaro reflected on the iconic Largo performance, the crucial role of the audience that night, and her perspective on the legacy that emerged from such a vulnerable experience.
From Tragedy to Stage: The Events Leading to Largo
The months leading up to Tig Notaro’s cancer diagnosis were a relentless cascade of personal disasters. As she recounted, “There was a four-month period of time where I had pneumonia and I contracted this potentially deadly bacteria called C. Diff. I got out of the hospital and my mother tripped and hit her head and died, and then I went through a breakup, and then I was diagnosed with cancer.”
It was against this backdrop of compounded grief and physical illness that Notaro was scheduled to perform at Largo. Initially, the weight of her diagnosis led her to consider canceling the show. “I didn’t go to the doctor until the day before that Largo show, and when I called to cancel it, the owner of the venue said, ‘Let’s not cancel it, we’ll just move it to the next week in case you feel like performing.’ And I said, ‘Did you not hear me? I have cancer.'”
Despite her shock and the gravity of the news, the venue owner’s persistence proved to be unexpectedly supportive. He offered to simply postpone the date, leaving the final decision to Notaro. “Let’s just move it, and if you want to back out the second before you walk onstage, that’s fine.” This flexibility allowed Notaro to consider performing, even in the immediate aftermath of such devastating news.
Driven by a desire to perform one last time before confronting her cancer treatment, Notaro decided to proceed with the show. “I went and got my prognosis and spoke with the doctors, and I walked out devastated, crying on the sidewalk. I got a text asking if we were doing the show [the next night], and I just wrote, Yes. I wanted to do standup one more time, and he was right to keep the date.” This decision, made in a moment of profound personal crisis, would lead to a performance that transcended stand-up comedy and became a cultural touchstone.
The Legendary Largo Performance: Honesty and Raw Emotion
The Largo show was unlike any other. From the moment Tig Notaro walked on stage and announced, “Hello. I have cancer,” the audience was captivated by her raw honesty. This wasn’t a typical comedy set; it was a vulnerable sharing of personal truth in real-time.
The audience that night played an integral role in the performance’s legendary status. Their reactions were a mix of laughter and tears, reflecting the emotional rollercoaster of Notaro’s set. As she described, “the show was very up and down, and it was awkward — there were belly laughs, there were people crying.”
The Perfect Audience: A Pivotal Moment
One audience member’s spontaneous outburst during the performance became a defining moment. Mid-show, someone yelled out, “This is f**king amazing!” This raw, unfiltered appreciation resonated deeply with Notaro. “I say it all the time, that those were the exact, perfect people in that show. It’s so hard to picture how things would have gone otherwise, but that was a moment that really launched me into [feeling], Wow, they really are with me.”
The audience’s empathy and engagement created a unique atmosphere of shared experience. Notaro admitted to being overwhelmed by the emotional support, “I almost started crying several times in the show myself, When I walked out and said, ‘Hello, I have cancer,’ my voice was shaky and I almost cried. I almost cried when he yelled that out in the middle of the show, and then I almost cried when I got a standing ovation.” This reciprocal vulnerability between performer and audience transformed a personal tragedy into a collective experience of human connection.
Legacy and Reflection: Beyond “The Cancer Comedian”
Despite the profound impact of the Largo performance and its association with her cancer diagnosis, Tig Notaro has a nuanced perspective on her legacy. She avoids re-listening to the set, explaining, “I don’t listen to it. [laughs] I’m not a fan. I don’t like listening to myself, so I listened to it one time through before it was released.” This reluctance to revisit such a personally charged performance suggests a desire to move forward and evolve beyond that specific moment.
When questioned about being labeled “that cancer comedian,” Notaro’s response is characteristically direct and unfazed. “I really don’t care what I’m known for — people can call me the worst comedian in the world. Call me whatever you want. I truly don’t feel like a female comedian, I don’t feel like a cancer comedian, I don’t feel like any of that. I just feel like a comedian, so call me whatever you want.” This statement underscores her desire to be recognized for her broader comedic work and not solely defined by her cancer experience.
Confronting Motherhood: Hormones and Hard Truths
The documentary “Tig” delves into other deeply personal aspects of her life following the cancer diagnosis, including her contemplation of motherhood. A particularly poignant scene captures a conversation with her doctor regarding hormone treatments for pregnancy. The doctor’s candid statement, “Sometimes in life we don’t always get what we want,” was initially jarring but ultimately appreciated by Notaro.
While seemingly blunt, this directness was crucial given the hormonal sensitivities of her cancer. “It was [a confrontational thing to say], but I really like my doctor and I appreciated, actually, that she was confrontational. I needed to know that it was serious and that it was a true risk, but I also wanted to weigh that against what I felt inside.” The doctor’s honesty forced Notaro to confront the serious risks associated with pregnancy and IVF treatments, as “my cancer is fed by hormones. So getting pregnant or doing the IVF treatment increases my hormones.”
This realization was emotionally challenging, particularly as Notaro had always envisioned having children. “I had been on such a route in life — I wanted kids, I wanted to have kids. I was just a kind of stunned…I just always assumed I would have my own children.” The conversation with her doctor marked a significant turning point, prompting her to consider alternative paths to motherhood, including adoption, while grappling with the realities of her health.
In conclusion, Tig Notaro’s journey through cancer diagnosis is a powerful testament to resilience and the transformative potential of vulnerability. Her Largo performance, born from a moment of profound personal crisis, not only redefined her career but also sparked a broader conversation about honesty, empathy, and the healing power of comedy. While the “cancer comedian” label may linger, Notaro’s enduring legacy lies in her unwavering commitment to authenticity and her ability to find humor and connection even in the darkest of times.
