Harry Moore
Most people would agree that comedy is a subjective matter. A lot of comedians may object to that on the grounds of the thousands of hack jokes spouted into microphones across the country on a nightly basis. But still, there is no one true style of humor that appeals to all, which is reflected in the heavily bifurcated current comedy landscape, where every kind of funny bone can be tickled by an array of niche stylings catered by an endless supply of comedy podcasters, content creators and stand-ups all playing to a dedicated but select audience. The new siloed comedy scene has allowed audiences to seek out their preferred flavor and form of humor –— if you like multi-hour-long podcasts where improv comic hosts giddily discuss the details of gruesome murders, you have plenty of options. If you prefer to watch a YouTube series where a guy dresses up like Watto from “Phantom Menace” and interviews anyone even tangentially connected to George Lucas, it’s out there. And if you want stand-up specials where a well-paid comedian can go on stage and talk about how you can’t say anything anymore, and then go on to say the same things that all those guys say, then baby, I have some great news for you.
Although the fractured scene has diversified comedy styles and allowed audiences to find their preferred brand of humor, it has undoubtedly had an impact on the shared experience of comedy, hindering the ability for a ubiquitous comedy star to emerge in the past decade or so, with few comedy movies breaking into the broader cultural consciousness and no Seinfeldian watercooler sitcoms driving conversations. Gone are the days when men could bond over yelled Will Ferrell quotes, only to be replaced by watching endless conversations of Joe Rogan listening to some sociopath with his entire forehead. Niche comedy circles have grown in place of the broad-reaching, mainstream fare of the past. Rogan’s comedy cult based in Austin, Texas has seized a large corner of the comedy world, thanks to their endless churning of lowbrow content to be thrown out to their small sycophantic army of braying hyenas. Undoubtedly, the biggest name to have climbed out of this chuckle pit is roast comedian Tony Hinchcliffe, whose show “Kill Tony” is a huge hit consistently on the podcast charts. Hinchcliffe, who has a face for radio and a voice for enhanced interrogation, has managed to carve out a devoted audience thanks to his brand of middle school bully shock comedy, while Hollywood hasn’t successfully launched a comedy movie star since at least Melissa McCarthy, and even her hits didn’t land as strongly as those that came before.
The vacuum at the top of the comedy pyramid has paved the way for bad-faith arguments that comedy is now outlawed and a thing of the past, which couldn’t be further from reality. While it is true that comedians using contextual blackface to make social commentaries is no longer palatable and making homophobic jokes will get the hosting job at an awards show taken away, there is a wider range of comic stylings to be accessed than ever before, despite, of course, the woke mafia trying to suck all the fun out of everything. Funny enough, that even with comedy being recently declared “legal” again, this year has seen an uptick in comedy censorship. Following the murder of white supremacist troll righteous spreader of Christian values Charlie Kirk, a wave of firings hit workers who made anything less than adoring comments eulogizing the slain podcaster, whose, anecdotally, second-to-last episode of his show (released on September 9 of this year) sought to reveal “the truth about George Floyd.” This moment of infringement on the First Amendment reached a boiling point when the ABC network’s late-night show “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” was unceremoniously taken off the air following the host’s comments on the fallout of the shooting. With Kimmel long being a thorn in President Donald Trump’s side, it was an easy conclusion for many people to make that the show’s sudden hiatus was a vindictive act of collusion spearheaded by Brendan Carr, the Trump-appointed head of the FCC, who has control over approving a looming merger being negotiated to take place amongst the network’s affiliates. But after an extensive public boycott of ABC’s parent company Disney, Kimmel was swiftly returned to air and received the ratings of a lifetime on his return, as millions gathered around in protest to see the milquetoast comments from the corporate spokesperson, only to leave more scandalized that the great rotting pumpkin continues to be offended by these very tame barbs.
This year, the laughs finally arrived on the shores of another despotic regime on the other side of the world. Over the summer, the Saudi Arabian Crown Prince invited and hosted a fleet of international A-list comedians for the inaugural Riyadh Comedy Fest. The Saudi Public Investment Fund continued its ongoing quest to culture wash the country into acceptance amongst Western culture, and after making some strong inroads in global sports, the regime has moved to hijacking popular culture by writing checks big enough to turn truth to power speakers into hypocrites before their fans’ very eyes. It remains to be seen whether Bill Burr will recover his reputation for thumbing the eye of America’s oligarchs that he had become so beloved to his fans for, yet he seemed all too willing to throw away for a big payday from the guys who planned 9/11. But still, the meme where Pete Davidson’s head was edited into “The Princess Bride” with the caption: “My name is Pete Davidson. You killed my father, prepare to laugh,” may well be the funniest thing the SNL alum has ever contributed to.
However, the future of comedy isn’t all doom and gloom. Following the phenomenal success that was the “Barbie” movie, film studios have shown that they are more willing now to try putting their toes back into the comedy water. This year has seen the successful release of more comedy than can be recalled in recent history. The Keke Palmer and SZA-led comedy “One of Them Days” was a sleeper hit at the beginning of the year, catering to an often-ignored demographic. “The Naked Gun” reboot was a silly throwback to the gag-a-minute spoof movies that delivered more than enough laughs to live up to the original. While the new “it” boy for comedy nerds, Tim Robinson, made his leading man debut opposite Paul Rudd in the deranged cringe comedy “Friendship,” in which Robinson’s singular voice skewers the male loneliness epidemic for one of the most painfully funny films released in years, that has practically already achieved cult classic status in some circles. While it is unlikely we’ll ever see a star of the stature of Jim Carrey talk out his ass to a delighted, united nation again, comedy has resettled into a groove of distinctive pockets and niches with space for everyone.
The post What’s the Deal with Comedy? first appeared on Folio 2.0 / EU Jacksonville.