How do we decide what makes a good stand-up set? In a time of TikTok audience work and Jimmy Carr “your mum” heckle responses, the idea of what a comedy performance is can be quite coloured. For a very long time, I considered myself to be someone who didn’t particularly enjoy comedy shows. I had decided that being funny is very difficult (it is) and that most comedians probably hadn’t really perfected the type of humour that I enjoy. I hadn’t been to many comedy shows in my life but came to this conclusion without much evidence. Now, with audience participation comedy seemingly becoming bigger amongst newer comedians, it gives me a reason not to be involved. I understand they make good reels or shorts or whatever other platform equivalent that aspiring comedians need to use to spread their name. I just don’t find it funny. That being said, I recently have been to see two comedians that made me rethink my general dislike for this genre of performance and art form.
Back in April I went to see Kurtis Conner in the Olympia. More used to seeing him in video format, I was unsure how it would pan out. Despite his career being mostly based on his online fame, Conner is certainly no stranger to the stage, having already performed as a special guest and headliner, as well as having released several comedy specials. His style of stand up consists of observational humour, and retellings of stories that come out as though he is having a natural conversation rather than a rehearsed spiel. What really stood out to me in his set, aside from the good hour and a half of laughs, was his no-nonsense response to audience heckling. Before he even set foot on stage, he gave a small mention in his introduction to not bother with heckling. What I didn’t expect was for him to challenge an audience member when they yelled something up at him. He immediately stopped his bit and, with a stony face, simply said “you see how no one is laughing?” The embarrassment shut the behaviour down straight away and the show continued.
Heckling has always existed, it’s certainly not a new phenomenon to this generation. That doesn’t make it any less annoying in the majority of circumstances. It also seems to be a younger demographic that does it. I appreciated the unwillingness to have the flow broken up and honestly his aggressive shut down was funnier than it should have been. By shutting down this kind of interruption, he allowed his routine to demand the attention it needed. It wasn’t just funny anecdotes about his life, he also delved into difficult experiences such as the passing of his stepfather. Conner spoke about him in a very open and touching way, then, used part of this story as the crux of a later joke in a perfect call back that was surprising and hilarious.
On June 11th, Kiwi comedian Rhys Darby took to the stage at Dublin’s Ambassador Theatre for his “The Legend Returns” tour. I’ve enjoyed the career of Rhys Darby since I first encountered him in Flight of the Conchords and have been waiting for him to come back to Ireland since I missed his last trip here. Darby’s comedy leans toward the absurd, with an impressive repertoire of sound effects and self-demeaning jokes, his routine takes some unexpected turns that keep giving time after time throughout. Through his different characters and physical comedy he builds a vivid world. He makes the real, destructive consequences of AI in the creative world sound hilarious. Spinning a ridiculous story, based loosely in truth, Darby circles back to his original point seamlessly. Making the payoff of his jokes feel extremely rewarding.
At the end of the day, this is part of the job of being a comedian. To take some of the darker parts of life and reflect it back to the masses in a new light. Whether it’s a personal struggle, or a wider, societal issue, being able to harness that into a way to make others laugh makes all the difference. I think seeing the carefully constructed routines of people like Kurtis Conner and Rhys Darby on stage really emphasised for me the things that felt off about the audience-based interactions of other comedians that I often see online. I find many of them shallow and lacking meaning. They are the type of basic observations and jokes you could make with a group of friends. That’s not to say that they aren’t funny. It just lacks that same intricacy. It can become the difference between comedy as a performance and comedy as an art.
