Margaret Cho could have been just another tragic Hollywood story. One more on a growing pile of talented stand-up comics chewed up and spit out after a failed sit-com. Her show, All-American Girl, lasted all of six months during the '94-'95 season before getting canned amid controversies over her weight and whether she was Korean enough to play the daughter of Korean immigrants (which, by the way, she happens to be). The cancellation led Cho to self-esteem problems and alcohol and drug abuse. She bears permanent scars from the ordeal, including damage to her kidneys from trying to lose weight too quickly by starving herself and exercising too much.
If she had followed the trend, Cho would now be playing strip-mall comedy clubs all over the country with a tag under her name on the poster proclaiming her the former star of TV's All-American Girl. Instead she pulled herself back up and is telling her story in a hit one-woman show, I'm the One That I Want, that's touring theaters across the country to rave reviews. A movie based on the show is nearly finished and set to be released in late summer or early fall. Cho seems to be having the time of her life. "I'm really proud of the show and I'm really in control of what's happening. I'm also traveling in a manner which is far more luxurious than I ever have. That makes it a lot better and alleviates burnout so much. I think that I could sustain this. And I'd like to, forever."
The show grew out of Cho's stand-up act, and it puts her in the company of comedians like Jimmy Tingle and Sandra Bernhard who have made the big step from clubs to theaters. "My life had changed quite a deal over the past couple of years, so I really felt like I had an enormous growth spurt as a performer. Doing comedy clubs was fine and fun, but I really wanted to do a bigger show -- a show with more emotional depth, a show that carried an audience through a narrative. Finally it was just inappropriate to be in comedy clubs because the show was too big."
It's not coincidental, then, that Cho's critical acclaim and popularity expanded rapidly as she delved deeper into her life for material. She deals with the fallout from her show and her personal tragedies openly and honestly and doesn't shy away from even the worst moments. She may be outraged, she may be puzzled, but you won't find her feeling sorry for herself. She's more interested in letting the audience in on her strange trip than in generating sympathy.
"I think that we are all privy to universal experience," she explains, "that we all have things in common, that we all have felt the same kinds of pain and the same kinds of heartache, the same kind of disappointment. I think that it's just about finding interesting and new ways to tell the story and connect with people. That's the most important thing."
The disappointment of All-American Girl is that much worse when you consider Cho's quick start and early success -- she performed her first show as a teenager in San Francisco, got work right away, and before long was touring heavily and working the much-coveted late-night talk-show scene. "I didn't know exactly what to expect from my career. I really had no idea. And I think that was my problem, that I wasn't ready. I hadn't dreamed out my dreams completely. I just decided on things just because it seemed right at the moment. I never really planned. Now I realize the importance of understanding and having a vision and knowing what you want."