As I sat down today, a strange thought occurred to me. I think many established comedians are losing their 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 out of many famous comedians they have on. Amazingly, no matter how funny the story, the joke 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 was as if they had lost the ability to truly laugh! They had lost the ability to enjoy the moment, the little things. I have been noticing this more often. Comedians seem to only be laughing when a joke is dark, and the darker it is the harder they laugh. They have become thrill seekers, extreme sports addicts; people who sky dive or wing suit fly, forever reaching for the rush, that buzz of danger.
It is a tricky path for comedians. When someone is telling us a story, especially when that someone is another comedian, our minds begin racing, anticipating the punchline.
What is the way out? I’ve been pondering this for a while, and I feel as though the solution is to step away from comedy occasionally. Not saying yes to every gig, avoiding hanging out with comedian friends in groups, gathering less after a show, because even once that show has ended, it’s as though we still think we’re on: constantly trying to crack a joke that brings the empty room down.
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 it 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 and let it stumble, let it fall flat on its face, like a new toddler learning to walk. Because, ultimately, it will grow stronger and feel fresh and new and exciting. My hope is that this will, in turn, inspire others to step away, be missed for a bit and come back to comedy with a glint in their eyes.