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The Looming Darkness in Comedy: Where’s the Joy? Kaitlyn Heintzelman
Prize-Winning Essay
The Looming Darkness in Comedy: Where’s the Joy?
Kaitlyn Heintzelman
At first glance, comedy appears to be a positive force in society. After all, comedy is a
safe place where no one is safe: every religion, ethnicity, and race is mocked, analyzed, and
everyone is taught to not think so seriously. There is something liberating and joyous about
letting go of one’s stereotypes and beliefs and finding humor in the ridiculousness that is in
everyone. Yet, there is an undeniable habit of discontent found in comedians. By analyzing the
lives of an array of successful comedians, it is evident that many comedians struggle with a
turbulent personal life. Perhaps comedians chase after joy and laughter because there is a dark
underbelly in their life. There is an underlying presence of darkness in comedy, commonly
caused by the “tears of a clown” affect of childhood trauma and mental illness, correlating with
the comedians’ search for a transcendent experience.
The dark undertones of comedy are, perhaps, rooted in its vaudeville beginnings.
Vaudeville comedians “…struggled for attention, as naked women were the main draw”
(Nesteroff 6). At this point in time, there was not a place for comedians –they did not belong in
a select venue or work for a certain audience. Essentially, comedy struggled to find a home in
American society. Numerous times in history comedy has been paired with the sexualization of
women, first with Burlesque strippers, and later during the era of the Playboy mansion,which
was, incidentally, the most prestigious venue and “the most significant circuit for stand-up
comics in the 1960s” (213). Even as an independent entity, comedy was seen as something dirty
dangerous that cannot occur during the light of day. Perhaps comedy at this time was merely
misunderstood, but it is more likely that comedy was deemed detrimental to “normal society”
because it shook cultural norms. Today, it is evident from exploring the last fifty years of
comedy in America that this art form attracts the broken, which is to say, everyone.
Shecky Greene was a comedian who performed in the nightclubs of a newly birthed Las
Vegas during the 1950s and 60s and who exemplifies the idea of darkness in comedy. Although
he is considered “…one of comedy’s great nonconformists,” his wild behavior in the nightclubs
does not initially seem congruent with his personal struggles. Greene “…suffered from anxiety,
depression and bipolar disorder in an era when such things weren’t diagnosed” (146). As a result
of his demons, Greene was terrified to go onstage in front of an audience and self-medicated
with alcohol to calm his fear. In fact, “Greene was not a drinker until he landed in Vegas, where
he discovered that booze quelled his anxiety” (147). These habits escalated to the point where he
“…drove his Cadillac into the fountains at Caesars Palace” (147). What truly stands out in
Greene’s story is that none of his peers or surrounding influences in Vegas meant to stop Greene,
instead; they would laugh and encourage him to do the dangerous things he was doing. Greene,
as the human being, was considered entertainment off the stage as well. Here lies the crux of the
matter: Greene was a haunted man who could not find peace of mind. Others took advantage of
this weakness and exploited it for entertainment at the expense of his health and happiness. One
could argue that Greene would have been discontent in any career he pursued, but this seems
unlikely as his struggles were brought to the surface and addressed through the alcohol addiction
he formed in Vegas, causing Greene to become the worst version of himself. Although he
“…sobered in later years” he is still considered by contemporaries such as Marty Ingels as
“…underground’s number one guy” (148). In other words, Greene epitomizes the notion that
there is a dark “underbelly” to comedy, that comedy itself can be used as self-medication and a
way for the comedian to escape the troubling place from which he or she is running.
Richard Pryor is a crucial aspect of the shift in comedy during the 70s, as he embodies
self-expression and honesty as a standup comedian, but he, too, seems to use comedy as a way to
make sense of difficult life events. To begin, Pryor was a successful comedian “…with major
cocaine habits” (316). Although this was not necessarily unusual for the time nor was he the only
comedian dealing with addiction, Pryor did have reason to want to escape. Pryor was “…raised
in his grandmother’s brothel, [he] experienced rape at the age of six and molestation by a
Catholic priest during catechism. He watched his mother perform sexual acts with Peoria’s
mayor” (Richard Pryor Biography). This childhood trauma undoubtedly affected his comedy
career, as Pryor would make jokes that refer to his being raised by his grandmother, but it also
gave him encouragement to be authentic in comedy. Pryor addressed taboo topics such as
African American street life, sex, drug use, and even an incident in which Pryor accidently set
himself on fire. Yet even without all of this, Pryor gave a voice to the marginalized and
vulnerable. His willingness to address subject matter that no other comedian was reacting to at
the time provided a transcendent experience for the audience and himself. Through his comedy,
Pryor freed himself from his childhood shackles and used his pain and warped it to make
something good come from it. Additionally, Pryor allowed his developing life experience to
affect his comedic act; as Pryor learned more of the world, his act reflected the change. For
instance, after a life-altering visit to Kenya in 1979, he condemned the use of the n-word,
something that had been a staple in his act before. Although “…his abandonment of the word in
his stage performances attracted death threats, hate mail and attacks on his home from some
deranged former fans…he stuck to his beliefs, never losing any of his funny” (Richard Pryor
Biography). This change in Pryor signifies a deeper truth of himself and his comedy: he is not a
comedian solely intent on shocking people. The intention for his comedy is not to be outlandish,
but to ooze truth. Consequently, Pryor overcoming childhood trauma and using his pain to show
an authentic picture of society, all the while maintaining his physicality and expletive-laced
style, creates a transcendent experience in that it is not limited to his pain but rather explores the
joy that comes from being subject to the human condition.
Steve Martin’s success, beginning in the 70s, is unparalleled with any other comedian
and is known by most Americans, yethis complicated relationship with his father and his
struggles with anxiety are not as notoriously known. This relationship, however, reinforced
Martin’s decision to pursue comedy. Martin notes of an experience when his father “…pulled his
belt out of its loops, and inflicted a beating that seemed never to end” (Martin 28). He goes on to
say that he has “…heard it said that a complicated childhood can lead to a life in the arts” and
that he is telling the reader this story of his father “…to let you know I am qualified to be a
comedian” (29). This poignant revelation reveals Martin’s acceptance of a troubling childhood
that affected his life’s progression, and that, had Martin not endured this, he might not have
pursued comedy. Later in his memoir, Martin and his dying father repair their relationship. When
his father tells him that he wants to cry, Martin asks,
“What do you want to cry about?” I said.
do.” “For all the love I received and couldn’t return…you did everything I wanted to
“I did it for you,” I said. Then we wept for the lost years. I was glad I didn’t say
the more complicated truth: “I did it because of you” (197).
It is evident from this revelation that Martin suffers from the “tears of a clown” affect.
Martin pursued comedy because he was searching for meaning and purpose in his life that his
father never gave him. Martin is a comedian because it allowed him to leave part of himself in an
outer-worldly way and allowed him to find peace without the love and support from his father.
Performing onstage is a way for Martin to find validation of his worth. It can perhaps be
compared to a religious experience. Much like the divine, comedy fulfills something in Martin
that no human being can.
Naturally, the dark underbelly of comedy is not confined to male comics but extends to
female comics as well. For instance, Roseanne Barr’s schtickis the burnt-out housewife, but she
also embodies personal demons that identify her as a victim of “tears of a clown.” As a child,
Barr’s parents conveyed the horrific truth of the Holocaust to the point of traumatizing her. She
reveals, “…the only time they talked to me was to tell me that the Nazis used to shoot little girls
right through the head in front of their parents” (Barr 386). Her Jewish heritage had a profound
impact on her mental health, as it caused her to never feel safe and to distrust those around her.
Barr was also abused by her father who would “…sneak up behind you while you’re biting your
nail and crack you in the back of the head so hard that your knuckles would go straight up your
nose and stuff. He hit me in the head constantly” (389). Even in her own home, Barr did not
experience comfort. Although she does not seem necessarily resentful of her parents’ negative
affect on her mental and physical state, she acknowledges that they are much of the reason why
she feels the need to be funny. Barr uses comedy to find relief from her demons: “I’ve had severe
mental illness my whole life. A devastating, dissociative identity disorder –MPD, it used to be
called…plus I have Tourette’s” (390-391). As a person who experienced childhood trauma and
battles mental illness, Barr is an ideal example of someone who pursued comedy to escape.
When Barr was discovered, she was actually living the life that would become her famous act –
that of a housewife who is discontent. Similarly, to Steve Martin, Barr’s therapist reminds her:
“Don’t say you’re funny because of abuse; it’s in spite of” (390). Essentially, Barr found success
despite the fact that demons have weighed on her throughout her life. When Barr makes fun of
her own situation –her husband, her children, her sex life, being a “domestic goddess,” –she
takes the power from the things that make her feel powerless. This is her transcendence: Barr
takes her common societal role and humanizes it, thus giving her the ability to transform the
mundane into the extraordinary.
Maria Bamford is another successful female comedian who uses her “tears of a clown” to
create art. Bamford suffers from depression and OCD and admits, “I had a relatively good –
maybe a great –childhood, but I started to get anxious about any negative, unwanted thoughts I
had” (Bamford 494). Essentially, even though Bamford has the support of her family (rather
unlike the comedians previous mentioned), Bamford still grapples with a pain that is nearly
impossible to articulate. Although any battle with mental illness is difficult, Bamford uses her
relationship with depression and anxiety and turns it into the basis of her act, even using it to
provide validation and understanding to those who are affected by it, as best seen in her “anxiety
song”:
If I keep the ice cube trays filled no one will die. As long as I clench my fists at odd
intervals then the darkness within me won’t force me to the do thing inappropriately
violent or sexual at dinner parties. As long as I keep humming a tune I won’t turn gay…it
can’t get you if you’re singing a song (Bamford, 2010).
Bamford does something that is not an easy feat: she describes a misunderstood and hard to
describe illness that plagues many people, but is still not always accepted by society. Similar to
Richard Pryor, Bamford addresses and subtly critiques issues in society in her self-deprecating
way as not to offend people but rather inspire a sense of community and shared experience.
Although many comedians seem to be in pain, there is an undeniable pull that attracts
these struggling souls to comedy –this is the joy of the funny. One of the most tragic stories in
comedy is that of Robin Williams,a dynamic comedian. Four years after Marc Maron, also a
comedian, interviewed Williams and they discussed his fight with mental illness, Williams
committed suicide. Maron said after his death:
There was a humanity to Robin Williams. The spirit of pure comedy ran through this
guy…There’s never been a comedic artist like this guy. And there’s no more painful
realization that the other side of whatever comic genius is –is sometimes this. That with
that sensitivity, that with that perception, that with that empathy, that with that love, that
with that mental agility, comes a heart too heavy to live (Maron 356).
It is a difficult truth to stomach, but inevitably it must be accepted that sometimes laughter can
hide a fallacious façade. For an unknown reason, comedy provides relief for hurting comedians,
like Robin Williams. On the one hand, he appeared to be bright and positive. He enchanted
others with his energy and genius. In reality, he did not see himself the way others did. He
succumbed to mental illness because even comedy could not save him. And yet, it seems that
comedy perhaps did save him and is the reason why Williams fought for so long. Nesteroff
asserts that “The manic presence Williams had onstage was that of a man burning off all those
anxieties, all the depression, all that fear” (Nesteroff 357). It now becomes clear that comedy was
a safe haven to Williams. Essentially, comedy saved him from himself.
There is a strange power in joy and in the idea that a joke can transcend a person out of
himself or herself and take them to a place that is more authentic and safe. In his interview with
Judd Apatow, Jon Stewart mentions the hardships one endures by being a comedian, the
difficulty of the craft and the lifestyle specifically. Despite this he notes:
“I will say this: Through it all, I have always retained the ability to feel the joy of the
funny. When somebody comes up with something really funny or we hit a jag where it’s
clicking, that still feels like that wave you’ve been chasing. It can still make me jump up
and down like a little kid. That’s what you chase” (Jon Stewart, 237).
The joy of the funny, therefore, is all about this chase. It is about finding a reason to love life
despite the hardships and sickness and heartache. It is a search for meaning in one’s life and a
way for comedians to leave their mark on the person in the audience. Making another person
laugh in it of itself is a transcendent experience because it means something was so funny, so
vivacious, that they need to open their mouth and inhale more air, and therefore more life. Joy
and laughter make people want to live. Although these comedians struggle internally, they are
giving a gift to the American community that they themselves so need.
Comedy is a positive force in society, but that does not mean that there is not a serious
brokenness embedded in it. The number of successful comedians whose vibrant personalities
hide a shockingly tragic interior is shocking. Merely looking at Shecky Greene, Richard Pryor,
Steve Martin, Roseanne Barr, Maria Bamford, and Robin Williams, who are all household
names, could experience such pain, but articulate it so candidly, is stunning. It is apparent that
comedy is about both pain andjoy, and above all, that no matter the pain, somewhere hiding
inside is joy.
Works Cited
Anxieties. By Maria Bamford. The Laugh Factory. 2010. Performance.
Bamford, Maria. Interview. Sick in the Head. 2016: 493-508. Print.
Barr, Roseanne. Interview. Sick in the Head. 2014: 382-400. Print.
Maron, Marc. Interview. The Comedians: Drunks, Thieves, Scoundrels and the History of American Comedy. 2015: 356. Print.
Martin, Steve. Born Standing Up. New York: Scribner, 2007. Print.
Nesteroff, Kliph. The Comedians: Drunks, Thieves, Scoundrels and the History of American Comedy. New York: Grove Press, 2015. Print.
“The Official Biography of Richard Pryor.” Richard Pryor. Web. 26 Nov 2018.
Stewart, Jon. Interview. Sick in the Head. 2014: 226-237. Print.