2025

Sally Ann Hall

Comedian & Writer

“Fixing poverty and empowering women are, to me, the first steps to solving so many problems.”

What sparked your decision to reinvent yourself as a comedian?

I had this realization—if I could say whatever I wanted, do whatever I wanted, what would that be? It sounds obvious, but it changed everything for me. For a long time, I was writing what I thought people wanted—what an agent or Comedy Central might like. Then one day, I asked, “What do I want to say?” That shift made my voice stronger and more authentic.

Did you grow up around the arts?

Not at all! My family’s blue-collar—my mom worked in a lab, my dad’s in construction. We were in Alaska; art wasn’t really on the radar. They wanted me to do sports, and I said, “Actually, I want to do drama.” They didn’t really get it, but they supported me anyway. I didn’t get cast in any college productions, which crushed me at the time. But it turned out to be a blessing.

How so?

Comedy let me create without waiting for permission. I didn’t need to be cast—I could just go to an open mic and perform. I could do three in one night if I wanted! It taught me that art doesn’t need approval. You don’t start great—you get great by showing up and doing it, even when you’re bad.

What drew you to stand-up specifically?

Honestly, fear. I loved stand-up but thought it was terrifying—so vulnerable, like saying, “I think this is funny, do you?” But one night, I went to a bar where they had an open mic, and it was the first time I’d ever seen a bad comedy. I didn’t know that existed! I thought you had to be brilliant right away. That night I thought, “Oh, I could do that.” The next week, I signed up.

Has your family supported your comedy career?

Completely. My sister and her husband used to watch comedy with me all the time. They flew out from Idaho for my special and helped with setup. They’re my biggest fans. I still call my sister to test jokes on her. Honestly, I think I became a comedian just to make her laugh.

How has the digital world changed your career?

It’s incredible—there are no gatekeepers anymore. You just post something and it’s out there. But it’s also exhausting. You’re expected to engage constantly. In the past, comedians hired publicists or teams; now people want direct access to you. It’s both empowering and overwhelming. Still, nothing replaces the energy of a live show. That in-person connection is irreplaceable.

You’re known for your impressions. How did that start?

I’ve been told I look like Drew Barrymore my entire life—at least twice a week! So one night at the gay bar I worked at, I leaned into it. I started saying, “It’s so nice to meet you,” in her voice, and everyone lost their minds. It just kind of snowballed from there. Now I also do Jennifer Aniston—and a few others I’m still working on.

What qualities define a powerful person to you?

The ability to take a hit and get right back up. In comedy and in life, you can’t control the punches—you just learn to take them like a champ. Perseverance is everything. You don’t have to be the smartest or the funniest, but if you keep getting back up, you’ll outlast almost everyone.

What global issue feels most urgent to you right now?

They’re all connected—women’s rights, poverty, gun violence. None exist in isolation. The loosening of child labor laws, the rollback of abortion rights—those are deeply intertwined. Gun violence horrifies me too. The Founding Fathers never imagined a culture like ours. Fixing poverty and empowering women are, to me, the first steps to solving so many problems.

Have you faced a personal challenge that shaped who you are?

Absolutely. When I was 21, I moved to New York and developed bulimia. I went through treatment while broke and alone in a new city. Recovery took years—it wasn’t linear or easy. But it taught me compassion and resilience. Now, when I have a bad day, I remind myself: there was a time when just eating three meals a day felt impossible. That perspective keeps me grounded.

What virtue do you think is overrated?

Greed—and the kind of ambition that’s just about wanting more for yourself. Hustle culture glorifies that. Work hard, sure. But ambition that feeds your ego instead of your soul? That’s empty. Be driven to connect, not to consume.

What’s your unbreakable rule in life?

Be kind. Always. Success means nothing if you make people feel small along the way.

Who do you yell at quietly in your head?

Myself—loudly. But also, my husband, Ryan. Whenever I misplace something, I just yell, “Ryan!” even if he’s in another state. It’s practically a reflex.

What’s your biggest fear?

Spiders. No hesitation. I actually have PTSD from one landing on me as a kid while watching
Arachnophobia. My parents thought I was screaming at the movie. I’ll never recover.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

When I was new to comedy, Dave Attell asked me, “Why are you here?” I said, “Watching shows.” He said, “Then why aren’t you doing shows?” That changed everything. You can’t talk about what you want to do forever—you just have to go do it.

If you could have any animal as a pet, what would it be?

A kangaroo! I love marsupials—anything with a pouch. They’re weird, fascinating, and adorable. Koalas are cute too, but have you heard of them? They sound like demons. Kangaroos are cooler.

What’s next for you?

Keep creating. Keep laughing. I don’t need the world—I just want to build one where I belong.