“If This Keeps Up, Stand-Up in Russia Will Disappear Entirely”: How Russian Comedians Struggle With Tightening Censorship Amid War and Repression
DOXA analyzed over 200 YouTube videos from popular independent stand-up clubs and interviewed comedians still in Russia to understand what subjects remain safe for jokes—and which are off-limits.
Editors’s Note:
Hi there, it’s Aron, with another weekly article on Russia. This week’s piece focuses on stand-up comedy—and while you would think this subject would offer respite from the grim news, unfortunately, most news coming out of Russia these days remains just that.
In this translated piece of reporting from DOXA’s Russian service, journalist Nina Nevzanova examines how censorship has descended onto Russia’s comedy scene and how—much like late Soviet-era writers—some comedians manage to joke about banned or taboo subjects with thinly veiled humor.
While news media and other forms of artistic expression faced increasing restrictions under Putin, stand-up—one of the country’s most popular genres—remained a rare space for free expression until Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
The genre initially gained popularity in the 2010s. Before that, Russian humor was dominated by gaudy variety shows on state television. The rise of YouTube and independent comedy clubs in Moscow helped introduce a more personal and individualistic, American-style approach. While much of the humor focused on local themes, the aesthetic and delivery closely imitated the American genre—a common trend in much of Russian entertainment.
At first, stand-up centered around relationships, bureaucracy, the everyday absurdities of living in Russia, and life in Russia’s major cities. As political repression intensified, so did the risks of speaking too freely—forcing some comedians into self-censorship or go into exile. Until the full-scale invasion, Russian stand-up was also of the more inclusive cultural spheres, elevating the voices of women, immigrants, indigenous groups, and the LGBTQ+ community.
One of Russia’s most famous popular comedians, now in exile, Sasha Dolgopolov, recently came out as trans and has successfully built an international audience, performing in English in Berlin. The war and mass censorship have driven many of Russia’s brightest comedians abroad, where they’ve opened venues in cities like Tbilisi and Yerevan that draw Russian-speaking crowds weekly.
In Berlin newly arrived Russians on humanitarian visas have transformed the city’s stand-up scene. Before their arrival, Berlin’s stand-up scene was dominated by German speakers—but Russian comedians have spearheaded the development of an English-language comedy scene for the many expats living in the city.
As for those who remain, this piece is an important look at the scale of censorship in Russia—which has seeped into not just schools and media, but also beloved cultural spheres like stand-up.
By Nina Nevzanova
December 16, 2024
Translated by Aron Ouzilevski
[Some of the names of respondents were changed out of security concerns.]
In December 2021, Kremlin spokesperson Dmitry Peskov outlined the limits of permissible humor in Russia, declaring, “You can’t joke about what is sacred to the Russian people—the Great Patriotic War [a term used in Russia to denote the second world war], religion, or the painful yet heroic chapters of our history.” “Everything else,” he added, “you can and should joke about—as long as you do so elegantly and beautifully.”
Since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the space for Russians to joke “elegantly and beautifully” has shrunk, while the list of what is considered “sacred” has expanded. Comedians now risk administrative arrests, fines, and even “foreign agent” designations for criticizing the war or the Kremlin. LGBTQ+ comedians—now part of a group officially labeled “extremist” in Russia—face persecution both for their work and their identity, increasingly losing their careers.
DOXA analyzed over 200 YouTube videos from one of the country’s most popular independent stand-up clubs and interviewed comedians still in Russia to understand what subjects remain safe for jokes—and which are now off-limits.
“With each passing day, you realize you can say less and less”: How Repression Against Comedians in Russia Has Evolved
“Want some topical jokes? Should I be honest?” comedian Kostya Pushkin quipped to an applauding audience during a performance in 2024. “Nowadays, it’s risky to call many things by their real names. So, just to be safe, I’ll call everything by the wrong names.” Laughter ensued.
By January 2024, when the video of this performance was shared, many Russian comedians had already faced political persecution. Comedians Ruslan Bely and Danila Poperechny were declared foreign agents, while Sasha Dolgopolova and Garik Oganisyan were investigated for charges of "justifying terrorism" over a sketch about the killing of pro-invasion blogger and self-styled "war correspondent" Vladlen Tatarsky [in 2023, Tatarsky was killed in an explosion at an event in St. Petersburg deemed an assassination].
Meanwhile, comedian Ariana Lolaeva from North Ossetia, was fined for "discrediting Russia’s armed forces"—a new draconian law that punishes anyone who challenges state narratives about the invasion of Ukraine.
(Comedian Kostya Pushkin continues to perform stand-up in Russia.)
To this day, the list of stand-up comedians facing repressionс continues to grow: in the fall of 2024, two more popular comedians were subject to state persecution, while others were added to a list of banned artists.
Such repressive measures have forced a lot of comedians to leave the country, leaving a noticeable vacuum in the comedy scene back home. In exile, they have created new projects to rebuild their craft and community. In cities like Tbilisi and Yerevan, which became major hubs for the wartime diaspora, Russian emigre comedy clubs now draw large crowds every week.
Repressions against comedians began even before the full-scale invasion of Ukraine. In early 2020, comedian Sasha Dolgopolov left Russia after the Interior Ministry launched an investigation against him, and in 2021, comedian Idrak Mirzali-zade was forced to leave Russia over a joke that mocked xenophobic apartment rental ads that advertised for "Slavic tenants only."
"Fear [due to such cases] has always been somewhat present," stand-up comedian Alexei, whose name was changed out of security concerns, told DOXA in an interview. "But [before the war], it seemed like you could do much more. Now, day by day, you realize that you can do less and less."
“There were suspicions that these strangers in the audience were sent by authorities to monitor us:” How comedians started, and eventually stopped, joking about the war
Before the full-scale war, stand-up comedian Anatoly Borozdin would factor in audience reactions over government restriction when deciding what material to present. In the early days of the invasion, he continued performing without self-censorship.
"Our job is to focus on the issues that concern people," Borozdin told DOXA. "When people come to the performance, the war is already on their minds," he continued. "It feels strange to perform and pretend nothing is happening."
However, it remains a two-way street, with both comedians and the audience influencing how political jokes are received. Some comedians who spoke with DOXA noted unusual reactions from the audience when political jokes were made at the start of the full-scale invasion.
"I had borderline jokes," recalled Borozdin. "At first, they were still funny. But after a while, I began to feel that they caused more anxiety in people than laughter."
Alexei noticed the same dynamic, linking the audience's tension to concerns for their own safety and the safety of the comedians: "The audience understands that the room is not homogeneous, and there are likely people in it who share varying opinions,” he told DOXA. “Over time, this fear has grown, and now it's firmly entrenched."
The fear is taking hold of the comedians themselves. According to Borozdin, in the weeks following the invasion, comedians still allowed themselves to make “dangerous jokes” during performances that weren’t recorded. But over time, politics became less common even in those performances, due to concerns about the “practices intrinsic to the Russian people,” as Alexei described them—denunciations to the authorities like in the Soviet times.
(Exiled comedian Ariana Lolaeva speaks to popular independent Russian YouTube journalist Yury Dud’.)
He recalled how, in the first months after the invasion, comedians would whisper about "strange" audience members at their shows. "A man shows up, alone," Alexei said. "It’s as if he's there but not really—constantly distracted, jotting something down..." he continued. "There were suspicions that these people were sent by authorities to monitor us."
To keep their jokes relevant and "safe," some comedians who stayed in Russia began using euphemisms and Aesopian language. On the stand-up club's channel, for instance, the war is referred to as the "recent events" or the "situation in the world.”
Alexei shared another strategy he uses in his comedy: jokes without a stance. "You can joke about sanctions or travel," he explained. "For example, the options for where Russians can fly for vacation aren't exactly vast these days," he continued, referring to the travel restrictions that have limited access to Europe, forcing many Russians to vacation either within Russia or in former Soviet countries. "These kinds of neutral jokes are well-received."
One topic Alexei considered "neutral" was the issue of mobilization—the Russian government’s September 2022 call-up of reserves to fight in the war with Ukraine. The mobilization marked a turning point in the war, bringing its realities home for the first time in a palpable way, and prompted hundreds of thousands of Russian men of military age to flee the country to avoid conscription.
"It was a moment that shook society, and regardless of one's position, everyone was affected," Alexei said. "So they found a way to relate to it." Yet, despite its significance, the term "mobilization" is only explicitly mentioned in four episodes across two and a half years of war. Instead, the topic is approached more indirectly, often through situational humor, like this example:
"I dreamed for two years of buying an electric car, but I was always held back by the fact that one charge wouldn’t be enough to leave the country in case something happened. Like, the battery runs out before Russia ends. And then you’re somewhere 30 kilometers from the border, stopping and going, ‘Oh shit, shit, extension cord, granny, please, please, give me an extension cord. They’re after me, please, please.’"
Not all comedians, however, see indirect expressions as an effective strategy for humor. "Euphemisms are a step back to Soviet satirists," Maxim explained. "Stand-up is about free speech, about saying things as they are, not finding phrasing that suits censors."
Maxim himself has chosen not to make jokes about the war in his performances, feeling that it’s “difficult” to joke about it while it's still ongoing. "People think about it, they write about it," Borozdin added. "But in Russia, it doesn’t elicit any reaction. No one laughs, because it’s not funny. It’s life. It’s affected human lives."
“Anybody else here waiting for the old man to croak already?” How Putin is Portrayed in Standup
War is not the only “forbidden” topic in Russian stand-up comedy.
As Borozdin recalled, both censorship and self-censorship have tightened over time. “At first, there were attempts to make jokes about Putin, portraying him as comical and absurd. Gradually, even in jokes, he stopped being harmless. What became more common was the portrayal of Putin as a figure who can do anything.”
Since February 2022, Putin has been mentioned by name just four times in stand-up routines. In these mentions, the president is referenced in ways that are hardly damning. "They took away YouTube, Instagram, McDonald's," one joke begins, referencing the effects of censorship and international sanctions. "It's as if Putin came in and said, 'Hey, you, focus!'"
In the stand-up club’s performances, the word “president” typically refers to the office or foreign leaders, with one exception. Much like with jokes about the war, comedians find more freedom through euphemisms. Putin is often referred to as “ded’,” a somewhat derogatory term that can mean “grandpa,” “old man,” or “geezer.” One rhetorical question frequently posed by comedians is: “Anybody else here waiting for the old man to croak already?”
"I have nothing to do with this law!": How Stand-Up Routines About LGBTQ+ Issues Have Changed
Beyond war and politics, jokes related to LGBTQ+ are facing increased censorship in Russian comedy. Last year, the Russian government added the “LGBT Movement” to its list of extremist and terrorist organizations, after years of
"It's not that you can't joke about it at all," Alexei said. "You can make a subtle joke about the law, about propaganda, but still, people are saying less about it now, and there's added editing."
For instance, some have adopted the refrain, "I have nothing to do with this law!" or mock its absurdity.
Meanwhile, feminism, denounced as an "extremist ideology" by Russian state officials, is also mentioned less frequently in Russian standup routines. According to DOXA’s analysis, it appeared 37 times in routines performed between February 2022 and September 2024, and each time with disclaimers or references to potential bans.
(Trans comedian Sasha Dolgopolov, now in exile, performs standup in English.)
Comedians either joke about their own ties to the feminist movement or satirize the context in which modern Russian feminism is unfolding. One comic quipped, “For five years, I’ve said men and women are equal, but since September 21”—the date Russia announced its first wave of partial mobilization—“I’m convinced we’re completely different… I don’t want Defense Minister Shoigu to come out one day and say, ‘The seventh wave of mobilization—feminists!’”
The joke plays on the bureaucratic jargon of the Russian military, which refers to conscription efforts in "waves," blending it with feminist themes. As is often the case in Russian stand-up, the humor juxtaposes the country’s political realities with global Western trends.
Independent comedians in Russia face not just censorship and the threat of government persecution but also a sharp decline in earnings. Maxim, one such comic, said his income from stand-up has dropped since the war began. “Maybe stand-up isn’t as popular as it used to be. Maybe people just have less money. Or maybe the people who think—and have money—have left,” he said. “Either way, ticket sales are down, especially outside Moscow.
Alexei, a comedian interviewed by DOXA, said that while live performances still bring in money, the real financial hit has come from YouTube’s monetization freeze and the platform’s slowdown in Russia. “For many, views have been cut in half,” he said.
To make up for lost revenue, stand-up clubs have leaned heavily into ad integrations. But that has only increased self-censorship—after consulting lawyers, clubs are now cutting potentially risky material in the editing stage. “People are making money, and understandably, they’re afraid of losing their ad contracts,” Maxim said.
For him, the outlook is grim. “Censorship, YouTube’s slowdown, comedians getting jailed—if this keeps up, stand-up in Russia will disappear.” When asked whether the scene could survive by sticking to safer material, like jokes about relationships or daily life, he gave a wry smile. “I’ve always said stand-up is about freedom. Without that, it’s not stand-up anymore. It’s just a variety show.”