Comedian Laurie Kilmartin on Death, the Oscars and Clavicular

In 2022, when Politico leaked Justice Samuel Alito’s draft opinion that stated Roe v. Wade was “egregiously wrong,” comedian Laurie Kilmartin had something to say about it. In her 2024 standup special “Cis Woke Grief Slut,” she repeats what she said on live TV to a panel on MSNBC: “I hope that leaker is a Republican, because I’m gonna find him, have sex with him, get pregnant and joyfully abort the fetus.”

Naturally, conservatives went nuts. But for Kilmartin, a mother, it was just another joke — an ironic one, considering she was in her late fifties at the time. Not exactly a woman’s prime childbearing years.

Kilmartin’s standup regularly plunges into dark topics, notably death. Her 2017 live album is titled 45 Jokes About My Dead Dad. But she’s also part of the writing team responsible for the catty zingers and clever bons mots Conan O’Brien and other celebrities fired off at the past two Academy Awards ceremonies. A longtime collaborator, Kilmartin served for many years as a staff writer on the carrot-topped host’s TBS late-night show, “Conan.”

Kilmartin, who is based in Los Angeles, performs four shows on Friday and Saturday, May 8 and 9, at Vermont Comedy Club in Burlington. Seven Days recently caught up with her by phone.

What do you say to people who have no sense of humor about death?

I think everyone has a comfort level, and if someone has no sense of humor about death, they probably just haven’t heard the right jokes for them, you know? It depends on how you were raised and what kind of family you’re from. All of our senses of humor are informed by our parents, our family. I grew up with a dark Catholic family that made a lot of jokes about everything, and so that’s what I like to do onstage.

I liked your 9/11 joke in “Cis Woke Grief Slut.”

You know what? I just reposted that yesterday, and it’s so funny, because everyone on Instagram gets it and almost everyone on Facebook was enraged. I feel like Facebook pushes my jokes out to people that don’t like me or my sensibility, and then they just get vile in the comments. But I guess that’s social media engagement, so I’ll accept it.

What’s the earliest memory you have of something that you thought was funny or when you made other people laugh?

There was this gang of girls that were really mean to me in fourth grade, and we had a creative writing assignment. And I wrote a story, and it made the top girl laugh, and I immediately felt like I had won, even if she continued to be mean to me. Like, I got her for a second. She let her guard down, and I snatched her fury away from her for a second, and I remember that as a great victory.

Congrats on two years back-to-back in the Oscars writers’ room. How familiar are you with the nominated films on the first day you all sit down?

What’s really fun is, the Oscars has an app with every possible movie that could be nominated, so you can watch at home. So I watched all the full-length films, for sure, and a lot of the shorts. We just wanted to have the right jokes ready in case a certain film got on a run. And then, as soon as the Oscars were over, they turn the app access off. As writers, it’s like, “All right, you guys were temporary hires.”

Do you and the other writers watch stuff together?

We’ve mostly watched on our own. If we watch something together, it’s because we’re making fun of it.

You sometimes talk about your Gen Z son in your comedy. What’s a current youth trend that you find disturbing or ridiculous?

I don’t know. I mean, if you threw something at me, I could tell you if I approved of it or not. My son is 19. I guess the only thing I’m sort of bummed about is, they just don’t hang out together in person. They go online, and he’s hanging out with his friends, but they’re not in person. They’re losing something — the ability to make small talk and just being bored with each other. So that kind of bums me out. But in terms of, like — I know [eating] Tide Pods was, like, 10 years ago. I can’t think of something off the top of my head that they’re doing.

I read that this guy Clavicular is smashing his face with a hammer to achieve “looksmaxxing” — i.e., looking as handsome as possible.

Oh, right. I mean … that is so sad. If you don’t have a kid that age, you start to think all people that age do that. My son is almost exactly the same age as Clavicular. Not only can I not imagine my son hitting himself with a hammer, but also none of his friends. They all think that’s insane.

I got about a quarter of the way through his New York Times profile, and I was like, I can’t read this anymore.

No, it’s bad for your brain. It’s bad for him. I mean, I feel like this isn’t — whatever’s happening with him is a disorder, and he should be hospitalized. And we should give him privacy, not watch him hit himself with a hammer to make his cheekbones stand out.

What’s something you used to worry about that you just don’t anymore? And what’s something you used to not worry about that you now do?

I kind of don’t worry about my career anymore because it went a different way than I thought it would. And I’m OK with it. I can look back on my life and be like, Yeah, that’s cool that I was able to do that. In the beginning, I was very worried. Would anything happen? Would there be anything good, you know? What’s going to happen to me? And now I have a little bit to look back on and go, OK, you know, it wasn’t what I thought it would be, but it’s really cool, and I’m so grateful for that.

And the flip side, I guess … death. Like, when you’re 25, you don’t think you’re gonna die. And now, I know I’m going to die. It’s on the horizon. I just try to work out a lot so my last five years aren’t super feeble. My mother moved in with me; I was her caretaker for her last four years. I learned a lot from watching her navigate the last years of her life. I just don’t want to be falling all the time.

Do you ever feel like you reach the end of a topic and are done making jokes about it?

There’s always a new angle. Whatever topic you’re working on, the jokes you’re using about that topic are getting in the way of the other jokes that are waiting to be written — you know, like they’re underneath. So you’re always peeling away layers. Like, I thought I would be done talking about motherhood after my son turned 18, but it’s just different now.

As humans, there’s not that many topics. Like, you want to be in love. You want to have sex. You want to be loved. And that’s about it.

This interview was edited for clarity and length.

Laurie Kilmartin, Friday, May 8, and Saturday, May 9, 7 and 9 p.m., at Vermont Comedy Club in Burlington. $25. 18+ recommended.

The original print version of this article was headlined “Dark Side: Comedian Laurie Kilmartin on death, the Oscars and Clavicular”

This article appears in May 6 • 2026.

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