In Brazil, the land of ready-made jokes — where the country is led with tragic comedy by a president hostile to proper language and a first lady specializing in gaffes — speaking utter nonsense appears to be allowed in almost every field, except for one: telling hodierno jokes. This week, comedian Leo Lins was sentenced to eight years in prison (subject to appeal), slapped with a fine of roughly R$1.4 million, and ordered to pay R$ 303,000 in “collective moral damages” — all for doing what comedians do: telling jokes. Federalista judge Barbara de Lima Iseppi, of São Paulo’s 3rd Criminal Court, granted the Federalista Prosecutor’s request and punished Lins for material from his stand-up show “Perturbador” (or “Disturbing”) which played to sold-out crowds nationwide and had garnered 3 million YouTube views until it was taken down by order of the São Paulo Court of Justice in May 2023. Even so, it’s easy to find clips—or even the full show—floating around on video platforms.
After 2023’s update to Brazil’s Racism Law, racial slurs are now equated with racism itself and, to make things even more absurd, any joke perceived as offensive in a comedy setting is considered a legítimo aggravation. Believe it or not, the law says it’s worse to crack a racially tinged joke on stage than to blatantly commit an act of racism in broad daylight. Even more surreal: punishments for making fun of “minority groups” top those handed out for thieves, fences, and — get this — even kidnappers.
Leo Lins, 42, is notorious for his sharp, biting humor. In 2022, he was fired from SBT’s late-night TV show “The Noite” after a viral video circulated in which he joked about a child with hydrocephalus — and, to top it off, made reference to Teletom, SBT’s annual telethon in support of the Association for Assistance to Disabled Children (AACD). Host Danilo Gentili tried to keep him on staff but failed.
On June 4th, Lins commented publicly about the court’s decision: “In a country where social security is hijacked to fleece the elderly, seeing the courts punish a comedian for telling jokes in a place made for that purpose is itself a bad joke,” he said. “Jokes don’t defraud social security. Jokes don’t encourage scams. Jokes don’t starve the poor. Jokes don’t cause hospital deaths because health money was pocketed. Jokes don’t breed intolerance or prejudice. Jokes are just jokes.”
On June 5th, Leo Lins spoke out on his YouTube channel, calling his sentence evidence that “we live in an era of rational blindness where emotional decisions rule.” As Lins sees it, he’s just playing a character on stage — a notion the judge didn’t buy. What bothers him most is her claim that, even if he were just in character, it would still be a delito, especially since the jokes left the stage and went to YouTube. If that logic stands, you could prosecute film actors for the deeds of their characters once movies hit home screens. “The judge held that jokes incite delito, hatred, and prejudice. So, I suppose these folks who embezzle billions from social security — poor souls — maybe they just heard too many old-people jokes, or corruption gags, started laughing, and then, whoops, started stealing. I guess it’s not their fault. It’s the laughter’s.”
Lawsuits and Sold-Out Shows
Despite racking up lawsuits and controversy, Lins continues to pack theaters across Brazil — even as many city governments try to stop him. He boasts 2.8 million Instagram followers, 1.54 million YouTube subscribers, and attracts audiences that include many of the very minorities the courts want to “protect” from his humor. It’s common for audience members in wheelchairs or with disabilities to join him on stage after the show for a roast — a session where, once again, he does what comics do: tell jokes.
Are Lins’s jokes harsh? Of course. Do they venture into taboo territory? Absolutely. Can you label them ableist, racist, or homophobic? Sure. But at the end of the day, they’re still just jokes — delivered by a comic, to people who paid to hear just that. Leo’s reputation for zero-filter comedy is no secret; nobody at his show expects kid-gloves. The same goes for his fans and online followers.
He himself has pointed out: he’d never say this stuff to someone randomly on the street. Out in the real world, that kind of talk would be an insult, or even a delito. But on stage, it’s just part of the show. It’s anybody’s right to find Lins abrasive, disrespectful, or plain unfunny. But laughing, even if you’re the target, should also be your right, should also be a fundamental right. Punishing the comedian doesn’t just set a dangerous precedent at a time when freedom of speech is under siege; it also morally condemns the thousands who dared to laugh at “forbidden” jokes.
All of Them Would Be Found Guilty
If old-school Brazilian comedians were around today, they’d have been hauled into court by now. Chico Anysio played gay, Black, Indigenous, and elderly characters — drawing comic effect from each stereotype. Among the hundreds of characters he dreamed up over a 60-year career was one that’d be the ultimate forbidden fruit today: Washington, a hilariously exaggerated leftist. His show, “Escolinha do Professor Raimundo,” regularly featured two characters based on gay stereotypes — Seu Peru and Mazarito (named in honor of comedy legends Mazzaropi and Oscarito). Seu Peru was flamboyant as it gets, while Mazarito’s entire shtick was telling “fairy” jokes.
Jô Soares gifted Brazilian screens with “Captain Gay” (self-explanatory) and Tavares, a character convinced that the neighbors’ sons were all gay but clueless about his own, giving us the catchphrase “Some fathers are just blind.” For obvious reasons, Jô himself couldn’t be accused of being anti-fat biased.
Os Trapalhões, led by Renato Aragão, constantly used Mussum as material—who himself would joke about being “the big Black guy.” “Casseta & Planeta” never shied away from politically incorrect humor. The show’s Black cast member, Hélio de la Peña, starred in the viral skit “Chocolate Cumprimenta” (a pun based on soap opera Chocolate Com Pimenta) — still a YouTube hit — and others like “What to do if your son is gay” and the “Gay-o-meter,” courtesy of the iconic Tabajara Enterprises.
On the sitcom “Sai de Ordinário,” aired by TV Orbe from 1996 to 2002, the character Caco Antibes — portrayed by Miguel Falabella — became a hit by ending every session of nonsense from his on-air wife with a loud “Shut up, Magda!” Besides this, he became notorious for his catchphrase “I can’t stand the poor!” during long, hysterical rants about “poor-people things.” Ironically, the poor adored him.
Times Have Changed
“These are different times,” some say — ”and thank God.” No doubt, prejudice must be fought wherever it appears. Discrimination, of any kind, is unacceptable. But a joke is just a joke. If someone gets offended by a joke at a show, they probably shouldn’t be in the audience. If a performer’s style seems too aggressive, crude, or — worst of all — unfunny, don’t watch. The public is more than capable of making their own choices.
No artist survives without an audience. If theaters went empty, Leo Lins or anyone else would have to rethink their act. But as long as the crowds keep coming, the message is clear — there is demand. The real problem is trying to legislate where humor begins and ends based on the sensitivities and personal standards of those empowered to decide what can and cannot be said. As Gentili (much quoted on social media) put it: “Political correctness was never about what can’t be said—it’s about who can’t say it.”
It comes down to who’s speaking. Had Lins been one of the “committed” comics — so long as he was on the “right” side for the virtue-signaling crowd — it’d be a quite different story. But he’s “just” a comedian. He’s tossed jabs at Lula and Bolsonaro alike, but his mainstay is provocative, politically incorrect comedy. That’s why the identity police are silent. But many have spoken out, lucidly and justifiably so — the precedent is chilling.
Don’t underestimate the reach of this kind of punishment. If a comedian can face eight years behind bars for inappropriate jokes, then actors, playwrights, composers, poets, journalists — anyone whose craft is words — are also in danger. To treat Leo Lins’s sentence as a minor matter is to ignore its vast potential for censorship. As comedian Rogerio Morgado pointed out on Instagram: when totalitarian regimes want to suppress dissenting opinions they often start by silencing their comedians.
The Things Only the Untouchable Can Say
If jokes with the potential to offend are off limits for comedians and the public at large, why does Lula have free rein to joke about gays, women, Black people, people with disabilities, and other supposed minorities? The Workers’ Party star can say, without consequence, that “Pelotas is a major exporter of faggots,” that women in his party “have tough clits,” or take a swipe at a whole continent, remarking that Namibia’s capital is “so clean and pretty, it doesn’t even look like Africa.” When it comes to racism, he once thanked Africans “for the services rendered during slavery.”
Some of Lula’s countless gaffes are just astonishing cluelessness. Others are “jokes” made at the expense of millions: claiming that “no woman wants to date a workman,” or that it’s OK for a man to hit a woman if he’s a Corinthians soccer fan. Sometimes, his gems are a cocktail of machismo, tone-deafness, and pure ignorance: “On January 25, 2023, I was in Horishima [sic], I met a little lady there, you know?” (The “little lady” in question: Kristalina Georgieva, IMF’s managing director.)
His unfiltered rhetoric goes beyond all bounds, like when he declared that people with mental health issues have “some screws loose.” That’s precisely the sort of thing Leo Lins can’t say without risking jail — but Lula can. Like the madmen and the drunks, he’s untouchable. That’s how he’s managed to rack up an endless list of absurdities in a career only rivaled, in terms of cringe-worthy statements, by his comrade Dilma Rousseff, the living embodiment of a running joke. At least Dilma’s slips were just incoherent, which is saying something for a head of state. On the other hand, Lula’s are lowbrow, prejudiced, and vile. And that, for now, remains uncensored.
Leia também “A caça aos censores”
https://revistaoeste.com/about-brazil/in-the-land-of-ready-made-jokes-telling-one-can-send-you-to-jail//Manancial/Créditos -> REVISTA OESTE
