If Ellen DeGeneres had to pinpoint exactly when cancel culture jumped the shark, she’d probably say when it came for her in 2020. That much is clear from her new special For Your Approval, in which the former talk show host discusses at length and for the first time the 2020 allegations she faced for overseeing a toxic workplace as the host and star of The Ellen DeGeneres Show. “The ‘be kind’ lady isn’t so kind,” ran a typical headline during the fiasco. Despite an on-air apology, DeGeneres’s public image never fully recovered, and her show ended in May 2022 after 19 seasons.
For Your Approval, which premieres on Netflix Tuesday, Sept. 24, pulls double duty as DeGeneres’s long-awaited return and farewell stand-up special, so there’s a lot of pressure on the legendary comedian to deliver here. As a post-backlash final act, it would ideally contain both the zany, observational comedy that originally endeared us to DeGeneres and a smart, self-aware critique of the public reckoning she faced in the ninth inning of her career.
The problem is that the latter has never been DeGeneres’s strong suit. She’s an old-school premise-punchline comedian, not an introspective critic like Hannah Gadsby. Consequently, her attempt to address the controversy lacks the depth and self-reflection the moment demands, with the parallels she draws between her public fall from grace in 2020 and the homophobic blowback she faced after coming out as a lesbian earlier in her career coming across as particularly out of touch. The end result is a special that feels more like an attempt to reclaim likability than a true reflection on her career—missteps and all.
Part of the issue is that DeGeneres can’t decide if she’s actually at fault for anything. In other words, is she mean or not? Rather than answer the question, she oscillates between trying to explain herself and hilariously mocking the idea that, in a world full of Scott Rudins and Sean Combs, she somehow became the target of our collective wrath.
“They kicked me out of show business because I was mean,” DeGeneres deadpans. “Can’t be mean in show business. They’ll kick you out.” It’s in these biting moments that the stand-up is at her absolute best. I couldn’t help but nod in agreement when during a riff about encountering an article titled, “How Ellen DeGeneres became the most hated person on the internet,” she remarks, “Now I didn’t see who else’s name was on the ballot but ….” She doesn't need to name names to make the joke work. The audience is perfectly capable of filling in Elon Musk, or perhaps Donald Trump, and laughing alongside DeGeneres at the absurdity of the situation.
In another one of my favorite bits, DeGeneres takes a shot at her previously untarnished reputation, suggesting without saying outright that all that kindness crap was at least partly a façade. Reflecting on how ever since public opinion turned on her, she no longer tops the polls for the celebrity Americans want to babysit their kids, DeGeneres dryly adds, “So it wasn’t all bad.” After decades of seeing DeGeneres smile, it’s rare and refreshing to see her snarl. At the very least, it’s a much better look than the helplessness she exhibits elsewhere in For Your Approval.
Even if you agree with DeGeneres that she didn’t deserve the pile-on that she got, her occasional defensiveness is hard to stomach. “I was a very immature boss,” she admits during a reflective moment, “because I didn’t want to be a boss. I didn’t go to business school. I went to Charlie’s Chuckle Hut.” It’s a weak defense considering the millions of people who learned how to be effective managers without acquiring an MBA. DeGeneres then argues that she doesn’t think she should’ve been seen as in charge just because the show bore her name, adding a punchline about Ronald McDonald not running McDonald’s. The joke lands, but her logic? Not so much.
If not Ellen, then who should be in charge of The Ellen DeGeneres Show? It’s one thing to admit to being a bad boss, but it’s another to suggest she shouldn’t have been responsible at all. It feels like a deflection—especially when the allegations, in the grand scheme of workplace misconduct, weren’t exactly the gravest offenses. By continuously framing herself as the victim, DeGeneres, one of the most successful and wealthiest comedians of all time, undermines her own power. She slaps herself in the face.
Despite For Your Approval’s flaws, there’s no denying that DeGeneres can still deliver laughs. Her signature style—quirky observations and effortless timing—makes many parts of the special a nostalgic treat. Her material about aging is particularly sharp. “My father is no longer with us,” says DeGeneres, launching into a story about dealing with sick parents only to interrupt her train of thought with a line so perfect they should teach it at Charlie’s Chuckle Hut: “Well, he was never with you.” It’s a pitch-perfect example of the eye-roll-inducing knee-slappers at which DeGeneres has always excelled.
And God knows DeGeneres is still charming. You see remnants of what delighted Johnny Carson all those years ago in the rambling bit she does that begins, as all great DeGeneres bits do, with an astute observation about an innocent human tendency: “Why do people ask, ‘Guess what I did yesterday?’’’ she wonders aloud, sounding both alert and exhausted as her eyes flit from one corner of the audience to the other. “Do I have to? Is it a game? Is there a prize? I don’t want to.” This anxious engagement is what makes DeGeneres—and golden retrievers—so loveable. If only there was more of it in For Your Approval.
Instead, DeGeneres spends much of the special pleading her case, insisting she’s over what happened. “I’m happy not being a boss or a brand or a billboard, just a multifaceted person,” she explains near the end of the hour. But in trying so hard to convince us she’s at peace, she inadvertently shows she still cares what we think. (I assumed the title was sarcastic—turns out, it’s not.)
And that’s what makes For Your Approval such a bittersweet special: It lays bare a trailblazing comedian who wants so badly to be confident in her legacy, yet still isn’t.