My New Internet Crush...Sarah Cooper - Smart Sexy & Funny (Trump Impersonator)
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TikTok Trump Impersonator Becomes Hollywood Commodity: "It's Been Insane"
Thanks to perfectly lip-syncing Trump's proposed COVID-19 cures of UV light and disinfectant, Sarah Cooper is currently the most famous presidential impersonator.
TikTok Trump Impersonator Becomes Hollywood Commodity: "It's Been Insane"
Mindy Tucker
Thanks to perfectly lip-syncing Trump's proposed COVID-19 cures of UV light and disinfectant, Sarah Cooper is currently the most famous presidential impersonator.
Sarah Cooper has been called many things — writer, actress, stand-up comedian, former Google staffer, TikTok superstar, etc. But on a recent outing from her Brooklyn apartment, someone on the street saw her and shouted out a name that perfectly summed up Cooper’s surprise pandemic fame: Donald Trump.
Cooper is the most famous presidential impersonator of the moment thanks to homemade videos during which she expertly lip-syncs Trump’s own words, sampled from press conferences, interviews and other media appearances. The more head-scratchers the better. Her first video, “How to Medical,” went viral after being posted April 23 to TikTok, Twitter and YouTube. The 50-second clip features Cooper regurgitating Trump’s proposed COVID-19 cures of UV light and disinfectant. It has since been viewed more than 21.7 million times.
Hollywood took notice. Though she already had a manager (Chris Burns at AGI Entertainment) and a literary agent (Susan Raihofer at David Black Agency), Cooper signed with WME in mid-June and has since been on a meeting binge to line up her next move. And she’s been pressing the flesh — virtually, at least — in between an in-demand press and promotional schedule that has already included appearances on The Ellen Show, The Tonight Show opposite Jimmy Fallon, and ink in a string of high-profile papers from The New York Times and Los Angeles Times to The Washington Post and The Atlantic.
The Hollywood Reporter has learned that there’s interest in Cooper from studios, streamers, production companies and publishers across a variety of genres and disciplines from scripted and unscripted to TV, features, podcasts and books. After signing with WME, Cooper participated in an On Location Live Q&A (owned in part by parent company Endeavor) moderated by friend and fellow comedian Julie Mitchell, whom she met in a book club.
Cooper credited The Office star Jenna Fischer with recommending Julia Cameron’s self-help creativity and spiritual course The Artist’s Way years ago. She tried it but never finished, so she joined that book club to give it another go, and upon finishing, received the clarity that “I wanted to put myself out there a lot more.” She’s definitely done that, and in “an amazing turn of events,” Fischer recently commented on one of her Trump clips.
Cooper’s sudden success is actually not all that sudden nor is it the first time she’s gone viral. She published an essay on Medium in 2014 titled “10 Tricks to Appear Smart During Meetings” that blew up and inspired the book 100 Tricks to Appear Smart in Meetings: How to Get By Without Even Trying, both of which were inspired by a desk job at Google. The Jamaica-born talent studied economics in undergrad before entering graduate school at Georgia Tech in digital design, even though her dream was always to be an actress and performer. She tried to make it work, but after not landing any parts, she tested herself by doing stand-up comedy at an open mic night in New York.
"I couldn't afford to pay to perform and also pay rent in New York," she recalled. "I very sadly had to accept a job at Google. For a lot of people, that [would've] been a huge accomplishment. It was bittersweet." It was inevitably successful as she used the experiences in meetings as fodder for the essay and book that she followed up with How to Be Successful Without Hurting Men's Feelings. The increased notoriety has also increased book sales as she preps another one: an autobiographical take on Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People, which will be released as an Audible Original due in 2021.
Asked to explain why she turned to Trump for comedic inspiration, Cooper said she just couldn't believe her ears. “I was blown over by how much BS was spewing out of this man’s mouth,” she explained. “I wasn’t trying to be Trump, but what would Sarah Cooper be like if she could get away with talking like that?”
That last part requires further examination. “Selfishly, I think I wanted to be somebody who could BS my way through life. Like, I’m jealous. I could never get away with that,” she explained, saying that because she comes from “a lower status and lower power perspective,” her impersonations hit on something that might not be felt when one sees Alec Baldwin do Trump on Saturday Night Live. “He hates Trump so much that you can’t empathize so much.”
After she posted a recent clip — "How to Empty Seat," now viewed more than 12 million times on Twitter — THR's chief television critic Daniel Fienberg praised Cooper's skill as something more than sheer mimicry. "There's a tendency to reduce what Sarah does to 'lip-synching President Trump,' but all of the best parts in this video come from the editing and acting around the central Trumpian performance. And the punctuation at the end."
As for her own punctuation, Cooper says she's not quite ready to put an exclamation point on the series and move on completely to the next big thing. She wants to do more, even if that can be overwhelming. “I can’t keep up with the content he creates,” she explained, adding that she'd still like to do some of his other speeches, or perhaps even change characters and do something like Brett Kavanaugh's Senate Judiciary hearing.
Now, even with Hollywood on the horizon, Cooper, who already had a stint as a writer and correspondent for the Stephen Colbert-executive produced pilot Old News, will have to prove there's more in her tank that presidential impressions and show the world the real Sarah Cooper. If another recent outing from her apartment is any indication, she's well on her way. "A little girl recognized me," Cooper said. "She was like, 'Are you Sarah?'"
Mindy Tucker
Thanks to perfectly lip-syncing Trump's proposed COVID-19 cures of UV light and disinfectant, Sarah Cooper is currently the most famous presidential impersonator.
Sarah Cooper has been called many things — writer, actress, stand-up comedian, former Google staffer, TikTok superstar, etc. But on a recent outing from her Brooklyn apartment, someone on the street saw her and shouted out a name that perfectly summed up Cooper’s surprise pandemic fame: Donald Trump.
Cooper is the most famous presidential impersonator of the moment thanks to homemade videos during which she expertly lip-syncs Trump’s own words, sampled from press conferences, interviews and other media appearances. The more head-scratchers the better. Her first video, “How to Medical,” went viral after being posted April 23 to TikTok, Twitter and YouTube. The 50-second clip features Cooper regurgitating Trump’s proposed COVID-19 cures of UV light and disinfectant. It has since been viewed more than 21.7 million times.
Hollywood took notice. Though she already had a manager (Chris Burns at AGI Entertainment) and a literary agent (Susan Raihofer at David Black Agency), Cooper signed with WME in mid-June and has since been on a meeting binge to line up her next move. And she’s been pressing the flesh — virtually, at least — in between an in-demand press and promotional schedule that has already included appearances on The Ellen Show, The Tonight Show opposite Jimmy Fallon, and ink in a string of high-profile papers from The New York Times and Los Angeles Times to The Washington Post and The Atlantic.
The Hollywood Reporter has learned that there’s interest in Cooper from studios, streamers, production companies and publishers across a variety of genres and disciplines from scripted and unscripted to TV, features, podcasts and books. After signing with WME, Cooper participated in an On Location Live Q&A (owned in part by parent company Endeavor) moderated by friend and fellow comedian Julie Mitchell, whom she met in a book club.
Cooper credited The Office star Jenna Fischer with recommending Julia Cameron’s self-help creativity and spiritual course The Artist’s Way years ago. She tried it but never finished, so she joined that book club to give it another go, and upon finishing, received the clarity that “I wanted to put myself out there a lot more.” She’s definitely done that, and in “an amazing turn of events,” Fischer recently commented on one of her Trump clips.
Cooper’s sudden success is actually not all that sudden nor is it the first time she’s gone viral. She published an essay on Medium in 2014 titled “10 Tricks to Appear Smart During Meetings” that blew up and inspired the book 100 Tricks to Appear Smart in Meetings: How to Get By Without Even Trying, both of which were inspired by a desk job at Google. The Jamaica-born talent studied economics in undergrad before entering graduate school at Georgia Tech in digital design, even though her dream was always to be an actress and performer. She tried to make it work, but after not landing any parts, she tested herself by doing stand-up comedy at an open mic night in New York.
"I couldn't afford to pay to perform and also pay rent in New York," she recalled. "I very sadly had to accept a job at Google. For a lot of people, that [would've] been a huge accomplishment. It was bittersweet." It was inevitably successful as she used the experiences in meetings as fodder for the essay and book that she followed up with How to Be Successful Without Hurting Men's Feelings. The increased notoriety has also increased book sales as she preps another one: an autobiographical take on Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People, which will be released as an Audible Original due in 2021.
Asked to explain why she turned to Trump for comedic inspiration, Cooper said she just couldn't believe her ears. “I was blown over by how much BS was spewing out of this man’s mouth,” she explained. “I wasn’t trying to be Trump, but what would Sarah Cooper be like if she could get away with talking like that?”
That last part requires further examination. “Selfishly, I think I wanted to be somebody who could BS my way through life. Like, I’m jealous. I could never get away with that,” she explained, saying that because she comes from “a lower status and lower power perspective,” her impersonations hit on something that might not be felt when one sees Alec Baldwin do Trump on Saturday Night Live. “He hates Trump so much that you can’t empathize so much.”
After she posted a recent clip — "How to Empty Seat," now viewed more than 12 million times on Twitter — THR's chief television critic Daniel Fienberg praised Cooper's skill as something more than sheer mimicry. "There's a tendency to reduce what Sarah does to 'lip-synching President Trump,' but all of the best parts in this video come from the editing and acting around the central Trumpian performance. And the punctuation at the end."
As for her own punctuation, Cooper says she's not quite ready to put an exclamation point on the series and move on completely to the next big thing. She wants to do more, even if that can be overwhelming. “I can’t keep up with the content he creates,” she explained, adding that she'd still like to do some of his other speeches, or perhaps even change characters and do something like Brett Kavanaugh's Senate Judiciary hearing.
Now, even with Hollywood on the horizon, Cooper, who already had a stint as a writer and correspondent for the Stephen Colbert-executive produced pilot Old News, will have to prove there's more in her tank that presidential impressions and show the world the real Sarah Cooper. If another recent outing from her apartment is any indication, she's well on her way. "A little girl recognized me," Cooper said. "She was like, 'Are you Sarah?'"
Sarah Cooper Doesn’t Mimic Trump. She Exposes Him. (Published 2020)
Her videos pull back the curtain on a president who, amid historic crises, has found almost nothing meaningful to say.
Inside Sarah Cooper’s life, Including her parents and husband - TheNetline
Sarah Cooper is an American comedian and author who became famous after her 2014 blog post, 10 Tricks to Appear Smart in Meetings, went viral. She later authored several successful books, 100 Tricks to Appear Smart in Meetings, Draw What Success Looks Like, and How to be Successful Without...
thenetline.com
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She has the Trump cult heated reading the comments they talmbout she's a nobody, nobody going to remember her years from now... Yet your triggered ass commenting on her
her vids are funny seeing that first joint looking at her thighs how is she built...??
What makes her so good, other than her spot-on lip-syncs, is her body and facial expressions along with what he's saying that makes you realize he's out his fuckin' mind! 
He has to go, one way or another.
He has to go, one way or another.
HA. I had to do an install at a customer's house (old white guy) and he had all these Jamaican things all over his house. I was like why you have all this Jamaican stuff? Dude said he was born and raised in Jamaica. He was the whitest white dude I ever met.
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scroll down to the YT video of her stand up.
That mofo sound like an Irish accent trying to be Jamaican.
The dude I met looked whiter than him and didn't have an accent. I met one from Trinidad too, I was like WTF!!! Am I in the Twilight zone?
She has an understated attractiveness about her, like one of those quiet women who was into her academics and didn't go out much, but when she did get dressed up, you'd see her and do a double take and say, "Damn, I'm gonna have to find out what she's about."
The TikTok videos were funny. The YouTube video was funny, except for the "3/5ths" joke, which I thought was mildly over the top.
I'm not surprised that she's married to a white guy, but that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed.
The TikTok videos were funny. The YouTube video was funny, except for the "3/5ths" joke, which I thought was mildly over the top.
I'm not surprised that she's married to a white guy, but that doesn't mean I'm not disappointed.
What in the entire fuck is this orange nigga talking about?!
Props to the sista...she's the only way I can listen to him.
DESUS & MERO on SHOWTIME
DESUS & MERO, the Bronx’s very own, reconnected online in the early days of Twitter, where they unleashed their potent personalities and found themselves kin...
Everything’s Fine Is a Frantic Hour of Hot Potato
Sarah Cooper has her own Netflix special, but she can’t quite hold her own.
www.vulture.com
Everything’s Fine Is a Frantic Hour of Hot Potato
By Kathryn VanArendonk@kvanaren
Sarah Cooper in Everything’s Fine. Photo: Lacey Terrell/Netflix
In the closing credits of Everything’s Fine, Netflix’s new comedy special featuring Trump lip-sync TikTok sensation Sarah Cooper, Cooper’s standing on a golf course. It’s a wink back at an earlier moment of the special when Cooper performed a Trump lip sync, promising great plans for the future while futzing around on a golfing green. Cooper, now playing herself, strides out onto the course and takes a deep sigh of relief. She has spent most of the special playing the role of a forced-to-be-cheerful morning news anchor, locked in the downward spiraling nightmare of 2020 but required to declare, as the title suggests, that everything’s fine. Now she’s escaped, and she’s standing on the green, finally free.
Cooper then looks up at the sky and sees a meteor hurtling toward Earth, pointed straight at her. Her face gapes in horror. She starts running, first this way and then that. The scene cuts a few times, too, so there’s an extra emphasis on the futility of it. The meteor is coming and she’s just down there on a golf course, running in fruitless circles. Nothing matters and nothing she can do will stop it. As the closing-credits music kicks in (lyrics: “It’s so nice to be in hell!”), our last image of Cooper is of her crouching behind a pitifully thin pine tree. It’s funny because the apocalypse is coming! What the hell is that tiny pine tree going to do to shield her?
The whole special feels like those closing moments. It’s frantic. There’s a smorgasbord of celebrity appearances, current-events nods, pop-culture references, and a few bouts of sheer silliness. The individual bits are tightly written, and the production values are sky high. The mostly slickly made pieces include Jon Hamm as the CEO of MyPillow, touting a pillow that can cure the coronavirus; Maya Rudolph as a meteorologist who loses her grip on decorum while announcing a nightmarish forecast thanks to climate change; and Aubrey Plaza as a home-shopping channel host desperately trying to convince her viewers that she’s not part of QAnon. When it’s all sewn together, though, it feels both over- and underproduced. It’s full of tight edits and bouncing, helter-skelter slides from one fast thing to the next. It is an hour of comedic hot potato, and no one has any room to breathe.
I’m sure that’s purposeful. It seems like the chief goal of Everything’s Fine is to replicate what it feels to be alive at this moment, and if that’s the case, the feeling of the special is not wrong. It is a nightmarish, frantic, unstoppable stream of a million different things happening all at once. But that unstoppable stream and the fast-edited, overproduced bits are borrowing from digital rhythms. Everything’s Fine picks up a touch of the speed and fast-change discordant transitions of the ever-refreshing news feed, and it doesn’t seem ideally suited when stretched to the length of an hour. Some elements seem to run too long (we get it, Fred Armisen, you can’t close the door while wearing your goofy social-distancing suit), while others get cut off too quickly. As a whole, Everything’s Fine struggles to feel grounded in itself.
There are some moments that feel memorable and sticky and worthwhile. Aubrey Plaza’s slow descent into QAnon world is as weird and uncomfortable as much of the rest of Everything’s Fine wishes it were. Maya Rudolph’s meteorologist turn works because Rudolph is, as always, an absolutely undeniable screen magnet. There’s a legitimately strange and discomfiting scene where Cooper is joined in the Trump lip-syncing game by none other than Helen Mirren — they’re performing the Access Hollywood bus scene, with Cooper playing Trump and Mirren in the role of Billy Bush. Mirren’s Bush is so bizarre, and the sight of two people acting out that audio tape while actually inside a bus ogling a leggy beauty is weirdly intense. It’s one of the few moments in Everything’s Fine that approaches the shock of illumination Cooper became famous for, the immediacy and energy of her original Trump lip syncs.
But it feels notable that the most memorable, exciting pieces of Everything’s Fine come from those celebrity appearances and not from moments where Cooper herself is holding the center stage. Clearly the pace of the special is intentionally reflecting a growing sense of panic about the state of the world, but the game of hot potato inside Everything’s Fine also seems designed to let Cooper keep passing that potato to someone else so she never has to hold it for too long. The up-close format of her social-media videos lets small nuances of her face play outsize roles in her performance. She is a master of eye twitches and lip curls. In a wider frame, that control and animation does not always translate, and her voice doesn’t always succeed in cutting through the broader mayhem of the special. If Everything’s Fine sometimes feels ungrounded, it’s at least partly because Cooper herself should be at the center, and yet she often gets lost.
What Cooper does effectively communicate is precisely what the title of the special points at: that feeling of tap dancing over the void. She is desperately trying to continue everyday life while the world falls apart around her, and she’s good at expressing the alarming cognitive dissonance of that desperation even though there’s a meteor fast approaching. That kind of cognitive dissonance is a luxury, of course. It’s a privilege that applies only to the people for whom the meteor has not already arrived. Perhaps it’s not a comedy special’s job to reflect that awareness. But Cooper has become famous for a form of comedy that largely erases her point of view, and I was left hoping this Netflix special would give me more from Cooper’s own perspective, would give me more of a sense of who she is outside of a substitute for Trump’s face. What, beyond the dog sitting in a burning room meme, is Cooper trying to reflect here?
Everything’s Fine is painfully aware, at every moment, that things are terribly, terribly bad. Beyond frantically running in circles and landing on a Twin Peaks reference, though, I’m not sure what it’s trying to do. I’m also not sure what I even wanted it to do. Should Cooper and all these other performers collapse and give in? Pivot to sincerity? Cooper is a comedian; the aim is to be funny, not make sad PSAs. Plus, Cooper had to capitalize on the shockingly fast rise to fame she experienced after going viral for lip syncing along with the president. So here she is, doing the comedy version of silly, desperate arm-wheeling sprints around a golf course as a meteor burns its way to the ground, hoping we can all hang in long enough to laugh.
I watched this last night and it was alright...it had its moments, but this critic Katheryn seems to have a vendetta...sheesh.Everything’s Fine Is a Frantic Hour of Hot Potato
Sarah Cooper has her own Netflix special, but she can’t quite hold her own.
Everything’s Fine Is a Frantic Hour of Hot Potato
By Kathryn VanArendonk@kvanaren
Sarah Cooper in Everything’s Fine. Photo: Lacey Terrell/Netflix
In the closing credits of Everything’s Fine, Netflix’s new comedy special featuring Trump lip-sync TikTok sensation Sarah Cooper, Cooper’s standing on a golf course. It’s a wink back at an earlier moment of the special when Cooper performed a Trump lip sync, promising great plans for the future while futzing around on a golfing green. Cooper, now playing herself, strides out onto the course and takes a deep sigh of relief. She has spent most of the special playing the role of a forced-to-be-cheerful morning news anchor, locked in the downward spiraling nightmare of 2020 but required to declare, as the title suggests, that everything’s fine. Now she’s escaped, and she’s standing on the green, finally free.
Cooper then looks up at the sky and sees a meteor hurtling toward Earth, pointed straight at her. Her face gapes in horror. She starts running, first this way and then that. The scene cuts a few times, too, so there’s an extra emphasis on the futility of it. The meteor is coming and she’s just down there on a golf course, running in fruitless circles. Nothing matters and nothing she can do will stop it. As the closing-credits music kicks in (lyrics: “It’s so nice to be in hell!”), our last image of Cooper is of her crouching behind a pitifully thin pine tree. It’s funny because the apocalypse is coming! What the hell is that tiny pine tree going to do to shield her?
The whole special feels like those closing moments. It’s frantic. There’s a smorgasbord of celebrity appearances, current-events nods, pop-culture references, and a few bouts of sheer silliness. The individual bits are tightly written, and the production values are sky high. The mostly slickly made pieces include Jon Hamm as the CEO of MyPillow, touting a pillow that can cure the coronavirus; Maya Rudolph as a meteorologist who loses her grip on decorum while announcing a nightmarish forecast thanks to climate change; and Aubrey Plaza as a home-shopping channel host desperately trying to convince her viewers that she’s not part of QAnon. When it’s all sewn together, though, it feels both over- and underproduced. It’s full of tight edits and bouncing, helter-skelter slides from one fast thing to the next. It is an hour of comedic hot potato, and no one has any room to breathe.
I’m sure that’s purposeful. It seems like the chief goal of Everything’s Fine is to replicate what it feels to be alive at this moment, and if that’s the case, the feeling of the special is not wrong. It is a nightmarish, frantic, unstoppable stream of a million different things happening all at once. But that unstoppable stream and the fast-edited, overproduced bits are borrowing from digital rhythms. Everything’s Fine picks up a touch of the speed and fast-change discordant transitions of the ever-refreshing news feed, and it doesn’t seem ideally suited when stretched to the length of an hour. Some elements seem to run too long (we get it, Fred Armisen, you can’t close the door while wearing your goofy social-distancing suit), while others get cut off too quickly. As a whole, Everything’s Fine struggles to feel grounded in itself.
There are some moments that feel memorable and sticky and worthwhile. Aubrey Plaza’s slow descent into QAnon world is as weird and uncomfortable as much of the rest of Everything’s Fine wishes it were. Maya Rudolph’s meteorologist turn works because Rudolph is, as always, an absolutely undeniable screen magnet. There’s a legitimately strange and discomfiting scene where Cooper is joined in the Trump lip-syncing game by none other than Helen Mirren — they’re performing the Access Hollywood bus scene, with Cooper playing Trump and Mirren in the role of Billy Bush. Mirren’s Bush is so bizarre, and the sight of two people acting out that audio tape while actually inside a bus ogling a leggy beauty is weirdly intense. It’s one of the few moments in Everything’s Fine that approaches the shock of illumination Cooper became famous for, the immediacy and energy of her original Trump lip syncs.
But it feels notable that the most memorable, exciting pieces of Everything’s Fine come from those celebrity appearances and not from moments where Cooper herself is holding the center stage. Clearly the pace of the special is intentionally reflecting a growing sense of panic about the state of the world, but the game of hot potato inside Everything’s Fine also seems designed to let Cooper keep passing that potato to someone else so she never has to hold it for too long. The up-close format of her social-media videos lets small nuances of her face play outsize roles in her performance. She is a master of eye twitches and lip curls. In a wider frame, that control and animation does not always translate, and her voice doesn’t always succeed in cutting through the broader mayhem of the special. If Everything’s Fine sometimes feels ungrounded, it’s at least partly because Cooper herself should be at the center, and yet she often gets lost.
What Cooper does effectively communicate is precisely what the title of the special points at: that feeling of tap dancing over the void. She is desperately trying to continue everyday life while the world falls apart around her, and she’s good at expressing the alarming cognitive dissonance of that desperation even though there’s a meteor fast approaching. That kind of cognitive dissonance is a luxury, of course. It’s a privilege that applies only to the people for whom the meteor has not already arrived. Perhaps it’s not a comedy special’s job to reflect that awareness. But Cooper has become famous for a form of comedy that largely erases her point of view, and I was left hoping this Netflix special would give me more from Cooper’s own perspective, would give me more of a sense of who she is outside of a substitute for Trump’s face. What, beyond the dog sitting in a burning room meme, is Cooper trying to reflect here?
Everything’s Fine is painfully aware, at every moment, that things are terribly, terribly bad. Beyond frantically running in circles and landing on a Twin Peaks reference, though, I’m not sure what it’s trying to do. I’m also not sure what I even wanted it to do. Should Cooper and all these other performers collapse and give in? Pivot to sincerity? Cooper is a comedian; the aim is to be funny, not make sad PSAs. Plus, Cooper had to capitalize on the shockingly fast rise to fame she experienced after going viral for lip syncing along with the president. So here she is, doing the comedy version of silly, desperate arm-wheeling sprints around a golf course as a meteor burns its way to the ground, hoping we can all hang in long enough to laugh.
What Comedian Sarah Cooper Can’t Live Without
“This is one thing that we will have until it breaks, and then we’ll buy another one exactly like it.”
www.vulture.com
Her Netflix special got destroyed.
I gotta see it for myself but I'm not really surprised
But she smartly got a huge bag during a damn pandemic salute
But that funny of hers was limited as f*ck from the gate.
I gotta see it for myself but I'm not really surprised
But she smartly got a huge bag during a damn pandemic salute
But that funny of hers was limited as f*ck from the gate.
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