Divine Comedy

I just finished watching a special about Women in Television Comedy and figured out my dream job: Having to go through all of the reams and reams of comedic material available to make up a show like that. I know the pay would be shite, but life is not all pay, you know.

As you might imagine, I enjoy the funny. I started watching Saturday Night Live when I was still in single-digits (you know, back before they called it SNL). My big sister bought Steve Martin and Gilda Radner albums and we'd spend hours just listening to them over and over again. I could quote you long, long pieces of Steve's bits (to this day when my sisters and I are searching for an adjective for someone hard to describe we'll say he/she is "not...have...way" - and we instantly understand each other.) And I could sing you any of Gilda's songs (my favourite is "Honey, Touch Me, With My Clothes On"), if not the whole way through, than pretty darn close.

And the first time I saw SCTV... sure the film and sound quality sucked like a real Canadian production, but it was actually FUNNY. And yet, they tell me it was Canadian. Then I stumbled on Kids in the Hall while changing channels (I had no idea it was the CBC or I'm sure I wouldn't have kept it on) and discovered that other people managed to be funny despite being Canadian, too. Wow.

(I don't have a point with this post, so you can stop looking for one now. Just thought I'd warn you.)

But what makes these people funny? It's a question I constantly ask myself as I try to be it, and fail miserably. Some people say it's about confidence, some people think it's timing, some say it's about honesty, about facing inner pain etc... or maybe it's a combination of all those things. Hell, if Sally Field and Tom Hanks couldn't get to the bottom of it in "Punchline" what makes you think I can?

I've read Freud's "Wit and it's relation to the Subconscious" (and I even understood some of it, too!), but he didn't really come to any conclusions that were any too helpful (he proposes that we make jokes in order to revert, even for an instant, to a time back in childhood when we laughed and were happy for no real reason, and we did it with no inhibitions or self-consciousness. When we are told a joke as an adult we are allowed, even expected, to laugh as much as we like, without consequence. It's an interesting theory. Plus, the book is filled with some actually witty jokes which make me think that perhaps Siggy wouldn't have been such a crashing bore at a dinner party.)

What do I think, though? I think that comedy is a lot about courage. It's about letting other people see the things that make you scared or lonely or angry and then being brave in the face of it, even though you're not. It's about raw emotion put through the meat-grinder of a thoughtful, analytical and, more often than not, compassionate mind. It's about someone trying to make sense out of a senseless situation (or an emotional one, which is much the same thing), and putting it into words that highlight the absurdity of it. Perhaps making yourself laugh gives you some relief from the pressure it's causing in your brain at the time, even if it's just for a moment. And of course, making someone else laugh, and giving them that relief, well, there's simply no better feeling in the world.

(Hm. That definition may be better for humour rather than comedy, though. The two are not the same, obviously. I have more to say on this, but it's late and I'm tired.)

Of course, these are my opinions on this subject today. Tomorrow will be a whole different kettle of fish, I'm sure.