Surprise is a central to good jokes; therefore, it’s also essential to good stand-up comedy. Without surprise, a joke basically becomes a boring statement. BUT, here’s a plot twist: there might be an exception! Sometimes the audience wants familiarity or even expects it. For instance, you tell a joke they’ already know and, even though it’s not as surprising as the first time they heard it, it still works. It’s kinda like playing peekaboo with a toddler. You do the same gesture of covering your face a thousand times and each time you pull your hands back it’s just as hilarious to them.
My co-host of The Pro-Laugh Podcast, Brandon, and I were talking about this several days ago. Sometimes fans will hear a comedian they love tell a joke online, they’ll laugh, and then they’ll want to hear it again. So, they play it again or, in other instances, they’ll even go to a live show. And when the joke is told, they don’t groan. They don’t roll their eyes. They light up. They’re like, “Oh! It’s the joke! It’s THE JOKE!” And while it’s totally familiar to them, there’s still some surprise when it hits.
It’s like watching your favorite band and screaming the lyrics they wrote during your breakup 20 years ago. You know every single word. Maybe you haven’t heard the song in ages but it comes on and, even after all these years, you’re still going to sing with all you’ve got. You’ll sing to that favorite song more than once. And the same can be true of jokes: they can be funny beyond the first time. People are willing to laugh at the same joke twice or even more. Let me give you another example, a story.
Last night at a restaurant, a couple was sitting behind us, dropping a baby bomb on their parents. They had mugs with “Grandma” and “Grandpa” on them. They had gifts. They had all the feels and all sorts of emotional vibes. It was a real Pinterest moment. And when they shared the news, their parents were surprised…sort of.
One of the dads goes, “Yeah, I had a feeling this is why we were coming here tonight. I was on the treadmill the other day when I got your text about meeting here for dinner. I kinda just knew it. And when you walked in, you both looked nervous. I knew something was up and this was probably it.” And he was right. But you know what? He was still thrilled. He was still delighted. He didn’t say any of that with a Debbie Downer tone. He was kinda giddy. My point is: the surprise didn’t fail just because he knew the ending. You know why? Because he wanted it to be true.
That’s the power of comedy, too. If a punchline is great, the audience doesn’t always care if they’ve heard it before. In fact, sometimes they hope they hear it again. They lean in like, “Please say it. Please do the DMV joke. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE be emotionally wounded in public again.” And sometimes it’s not just the joke or the words. Sometimes it’s the way you deliver it. Sometimes it’s the rhythm. Heck, sometimes it’s the joy of pretending it’s new while secretly loving that it’s familiar.
One of the reasons comedy is so beautiful is because it’s an art form where surprise and familiarity are strange bedfellows. Sometimes it’s not always about newness. Sometimes it’s about connection. It’s like playing an album straight through and knowing your favorite song is next. You wait and wait and then it hits. You’re not mad you know it. You’re hyped. The anticipation enhances the surprise. The fact that you know that song is coming doesn’t ruin it, it primes you. And when it lands, it’s like an inside joke between your ears and your heart.
So yeah, surprise matters. But so does familiarity and repetition. And in comedy, when both show up at the same time, sometimes it’s magic. You see it when comedians do the whole preacher thing and start spouting off a remark in a cadence-like fashion. Sometimes they become cultural markers or phrases. Things like “Here’s your sign” or “You might be a redneck.” It’s fun and here’s a simple rule of thumb about for us comedians: Surprise the first time; delight every time after. So, welcome to comedy, my friends. The only place where predictable is still unpredictable and familiar is still surprising if you do it right.