Rethinking the Punchline: My Thoughts on "A Vulgar Art"

Comedy Resources #9

I have long been a passionate fan of stand-up comedy. A bit ago, I picked up Ian Brodie’s book, A Vulgar Art, which asks a pretty compelling question that I think about more from time to time. Brodie, in thinking about stand-up comedy, asks, “how does one reconcile ‘intimacy’ with ‘distance’?” This seeming paradox is what drives Brodie’s entire book. Here’s what he means: stand-up isn’t a monologue performed to an audience, but a dialogic/discursive and intimate form of talk performed with them. (And, no, he’s not merely talking about crowd work.)

A comedian is often physically separated by a stage from the audience, the very people with they are meant to engage. And how a performer overcomes this separation is, in Brodie’s view, the essential art of stand-up comedy. And he aims to help. In his attempt to untie this knot, Brodie pulls on a thread from the field of folklore studies. Honestly, I initially found the attempt at connecting the two quite odd. But it turns out Brodie’s thesis is actually quite illuminating.

He contends that stand-up is a “transposition of vernacular forms of talk into a more formal, mediated context.” That’s a rather academic way of putting it so, let me break it down. Brodie’s attempt to reframe comedy this way is basically just an attempt to move it away from a simple series of jokes and toward what he, citing other scholars, calls the non-consequential, intimate exchange of “talking s**t.” (For some reason, Bill Burr’s entire persona comes immediately to mind, lol). In this view, stand-up should feel less like a performance and more like eavesdropping on the most intense, hilarious conversation at the end of a bar. That’s pretty much exactly how I feel when I watch/listen to Shane Gillis.

This lens from Brodie also provides a distinction between a stand-alone joke and the kind of humor found in a performance. According to Brodie, a joke can be abstracted from its context, whereas a comedian’s bits are woven into their personal worldview and life repertoire. In Delirious, Eddie Murphy was getting at this when he talked about people trying to retell his act who “f*** my jokes up.” It’s like when Lenny Bruce talked about how police officers retelling his material “in substance” to a grand jury would completely destroy the point and meaning of the jokes.

A comedian, then, is not just as an entertainer but a kind of liminal figure who, at once, must be both an insider and an outsider, both near and far. And, honestly, that description is one of my favorite takeaways from the book. Brodie quotes Ron James who calls the modern comedian a “contemporary shaman” who is invited into a village to “tell them what’s going on” and then goes back out again.

Another part I loved was the discussion of persona in light of this (something I’ve thought about rather obsessively). A comedian’s persona isn’t just internal, but it should extend to their physical presentation, too. Think of Mort Sahl’s casual “graduate student” look or George Carlin’s famous shift from suits to t-shirts and jeans. Or John Mulaney’s use of a suit, not to create distance, but to play with the very idea of formality. In other words, these choices are deliberate signals to the audience from each performer about their worldview and authenticity. For myself, despite having published 30+ books and holding 5 degrees, including 3 Masters and 1 PhD, I deliberately dress down. I wear blue Vans, blue jeans, and a plain gray pocket t-shirt. I do this to suspend any suspicions that I’m better than anyone, but to also play with the idea of what it means to be smart and/or educated (they’re not the same!).

For me as a longtime fan, Brodie’s final sections on mediated and recorded comedy were also insightful. I 1000% take the view that recorded stand-up comedy is never as good as the live stuff. Recorded comedy, despite the emphasis placed on “specials,” just can’t do justice to live shows. Brodie asks, what happens to an intimate, dialogic art form when it becomes a fixed, repeatable product? He’s right that it is a transformation that changes the very nature of the performance. (He’s also written some great stuff about the “microphone” on stage, too, that’s insightful. Check it out!)

That said, Brodie thinks that recorded performances become a sort of “canonical version” of a routine. They can turn a fleeting moment into a permanent part of the art form’s history, too, and in rare instances, set new standards for social commentary that might be seen echoed by other comedians for years after. Brodie also offers a nice explanation for why people re-listen to comedy albums, then, even when the surprise is gone. Referencing scholar Bill Ellis, he suggests that a second experience becomes “an aesthetic event, during which we appreciate the methods of narration instead of falling under its spell.” This perfectly describes my own experience of re-listening to Mitch Hedberg’s cd on repeat when I was a teenager or re-watching my favorite Demetri Martin or Kevin Nealon specials and finding a new appreciation for the sheer craft involved.

All that to say, Brodie’s A Vulgar Art has giving me a deeper appreciation for stand-up’s complexities. And, as I said, I find myself thinking often about how, even comedians like Dave Chappelle or Ricky Gervais, can please a global audience while still “talking s**t” with them as though they are an intimate group. It requires some pretty incredible talent. And Brodie’s point remains true, too, that the measure of success for a comedian is the audience’s laughter. The laughs serve as “validation” that the distance has been bridged and intimacy has been achieved, that the s**t talking has worked to create a connection.

BREAKING - “THE COMEDIAN’S MEMORY LAB” COURSE: I haven’t even made a post about it here on my site yet, but I wanted to go ahead and share the news that my newest comedy course is now live! It’s called “The Comedian’s Memory Lab” and it contains about an hour-and-a-half worth of material that shows, step by step, how to conceptualize, organize, and memorize your entire comedy set. This method I’ve developed works for 10 jokes or 100. It works for a set that’s 3 minutes of 1 hour. You can get it HERE. (More to come soon!)

JOKE WRITING COURSE: By the way, if you have any interest at all in learning about your persona, how to write some jokes, or doing stand-up comedy, check out my online joke writing course, “The Joke Writer’s Lab,” HERE.