Now, we all know the idiom “any press is good press,” most often employed by “controversial” politicians and downward-spiraling celebrities, who perhaps see an almost freeing quality in feeding off negativity like a hedonistic Joey Chestnut. I certainly don’t want my inadequacies (if I had any) to be publicized, despite how entertaining they might be. However, many “lowbrow” comedians disagree, and proudly display their numerous flaws in their sets, with some even harming themselves physically for a laugh. Such drivel. However, despite my reservations, I still beg the question: If all press is good press, then are all laughs good laughs?
If we must investigate this enthralling and ever-important question (which I’ve decided, we must), I need to start with a basic truth that we can all agree on: Comedians are not normal people. Whereas functioning members of society prioritize genuine social interactions and a productive life, the comedian cares only about “the bit” and the ultimate goal of eliciting laughter from those around them. However, even the most depraved comedian would agree that they would rather be receiving laughs from a monologue they’re giving on “Saturday Night Live” than from dancing around in a jester’s hat.
Last week I was lucky enough to see my hypothesis in action in the world-renowned venue of Rocky 200. This particular comedy troupe was doing a “sketch” about the great recession of 2008, but were just listing banal facts while showing us a poorly organized Google Slides presentation. I think someone even busted out what I have to assume was an Obama impression. Needless to say, there wasn’t much of a positive audience response. However, after the third presenter finished their report on the legislative push to bail out the big banks, (around 30 minutes into the sketch) they tripped on a wire and face planted into the linoleum floor. Oh, did pandemonium ensue! The audience burst into the loudest roar of laughter of the entire set (and possibly the history of Vassar comedy). Some members of the troupe seemed upset that this bit of incidental cheap slapstick stole the spotlight, whereas others just seemed happy that they brought joy to the audience.
For the next portion of the set, the troupe could not be sure if the audience was laughing at their jokes or their misfortune. Was their sketch so bad that they were being laughed at? Or had they cracked the code and were cementing themselves as legends in the annals of Vassar College comedy? As a comedic genius myself [citation needed] I could tell that the seats of Rockefeller Hall were not shaking because everything was going well, but rather because the recession sketch was completely falling apart. I even heard one troupe member whisper to another (I have excellent hearing) “Are they laughing at our sketch or at us?”
Then, in a moment of comedic alchemy beyond even my knowledge, these eight undergraduate comedians came together, and all started falling and throwing themselves around the “stage” like rag-dolls. I started to cringe as everyone (besides me of course), burst into a fit of screaming and crying laughter. Though sadly…after a while, despite my best efforts to avoid it, I couldn’t resist starting to chuckle…but how! How could something so sophomoric make a renowned comedy critic such as myself laugh? Have I lost my way? Or maybe, just maybe, there is something profoundly human about laughing at each other when we fall down, maybe I’ve been looking at comedy all wrong. Maybe. I would still be remiss not to thank the slapstick comedian. Only you could risk your health for the sake of others, a beautiful and noble act really, and make such a grinch like myself come down from my high horse and laugh along the common-folk.
But don’t be mistaken, I chalk this up to pure circumstance, and if you think I will end my gloriously pretentious attitude toward comedy, then it is you I will be laughing at next.