A strange thought occurred to me today. I think many established comedians are losing the love for comedy. Of course, I don’t mean everyone. Naturally, there is always new blood coming in and replenishing the comedy scene but I felt it more with established comedians. They seem to have lost the ability to genuinely laugh! I was watching Sam Morril and Mark Normand’s podcast “We might be drunk” as they interviewed one of many famous comedians they have on. Amazingly, no matter how funny the joke or the story or the material, both Mark and Sam half laughed; laughed in a way where the mouth moved while the eyes remained listless.
I cannot explain it. It is as if they had lost the ability to, well, laugh! They had lost the ability to enjoy the moment, the little things. I have been noticing this more often. Comedians are only laughing when a joke is dark; and the darker it is, the harder they laugh. They have become thrill seekers, like extreme sports addicts. People sky diving, wing suit flying, forever reaching for the rush, the buzz of danger.
It is a tricky path for comedians. When someone is telling us a story, especially when that someone is another comedian, we find our mind racing and anticipating the punchline.
What is the way out? I’ve been pondering this for a while and I feel the way out is to step away from comedy occasionally, not say yes to every gig, not hanging out with comedian friends in groups, not hanging out after the show where everyone seems to be competing for laughs ong after the show had ended.
They say the best thing you can do for art is to step away from it. When you step away from the stage for a while, life steps in to fill that gap. It gives you perspective, new experiences, new encounters outside of comedy and charges your creativity.
In any case, the clubs will always be there, the comedian “hangouts” or as the younger generation calls it: “hangs”, the riffing, the roasting – it’s all there. It’s not going anywhere but, sometimes, you should. Go outside, live life, see pigeons fighting in the park and get a crazy thought like: “What are they fighting about? There are enough cars to shit on for everyone!”
Then, bring that joke to stage, let it stumble, let it fall flat on its face, like a new toddler learning to walk. But ultimately, it will grow and it will grow stronger and feel fresh and exciting. Then maybe the other comedians are infected with your excitement and wonder about your story that they forget to anticipate a punchline. And maybe, just maybe, it will bring that glint back to those listless eyes.