I’m going to start by showing some appreciation for Ari Shaffir for the beautiful gesture at the end of his latest comedy special, America’s Sweetheart. I have watched a lot of comedy specials on Netflix, but this is the first time I’ve seen the comedian giving individual shout-outs to the director, producer, cinematographer, editor, sound designers, and art directors—that too with a carefully written paragraph for everyone. This is a clear indication of Shaffir being a true artist and, more importantly, a gem of a man.
We are, of course, talking about his latest Netflix set here. Titled America’s Sweetheart, the central theme of Shaffir’s show is how we should try to find a bit of positivity in everything—especially the things that are quite dark. That might sound like preaching of the very cliched ‘live laugh love’ idea—which I absolutely hate, by the way—but (thankfully) it is actually nothing like that. Shaffir makes that quite clear with his first batch of jokes anyway. And it turns out the comedian is taking a dig at the whole positivity business. By now Covid has become a staple for comedians, but Shaffir’s Covid joke is still a standout. He simply asks what’s the one positive thing that came out of the pandemic? As the audience wonders, the comedian comes up with the answer: the death of many bad people. It is so simple that it’s brilliant. The humor, I suppose, is not everyone’s cup of tea. I mean, if you are someone who absolutely can’t digest poking fun at something like death, then this is where you bail.
My personal belief is a comedian should be allowed to say what they’d like without any restriction. Of course, as a viewer or critic, I have the right to call out problematic things—especially when they are unfunny. For example, I absolutely can’t stand the fifty-something comedians who have built their careers on patriarchal humor and are still glorified. Shaffir is not at all that, of course. His set is filled with jokes that are right up my alley. They are not necessarily ‘haha’ funny but definitely chuckle-worthy. Take the first joke about the difference between heroin addicts and crackheads. Shaffir prefers the former because they bother you less, as their thoughts get jumbled up even before they can string a whole sentence together. There is a bit of physical comedy in this joke, which is funnier than just what he says. Then we have the joke about pedophiles and gymnasts. If you are a gymnastics enthusiast anytime other than during the Olympic games, then you’re a pedophile. Shaffir is obviously hinting at many of the great gymnasts actually being minors, including the legendary Nadia Comaneci—the first gymnast to ever score a perfect ten at the Olympics at the age of just fourteen (I’m flexing my Wikipedia-backed knowledge here). There is nothing wrong with loving gymnastics but you know where to draw the line.
Anyway, Shaffir calling himself a low-level artist sets up for another great joke that involves both Kanye West and Vincent Van Gogh. They are, in Shaffir’s words, high-level artists in comparison. And the comedian is not trying to be insulting here; he actually means it. While a low-level artists like him are always weird, the high-level artists are lunatics. That’s the joke here, which he obviously has to expand further to properly explain. He brings Kanye’s antisemitism into the equation. Despite hating Jewish people, Kanye is a great artist in Shaffir’s book. As long as Kanye is churning out banger after banger, he doesn’t mind the part where the musician is being grossly problematic. That’s how he is making things positive in this ‘hateful’ situation, but also roasting the West; it’s really a win-win for Shaffir. Van Gogh, on the other hand, was a man who was not a ‘chill’ person, by no means. There’s no doubt he was a great artist, but Shaffir would have had trouble being friends with him. The comedian is again highlighting the positive aspect here – which is someone like Van Gogh suffering throughout his life but still managing to create such masterful art that changes the lives of so many people.
I realize I am only talking about the good things here. But the thing with reviewing stand-up sets is there can only be a few valid criticisms: either the jokes are unfunny, or they are problematic, either racially or sexually (yeah, I’m pointing fingers at the comedians who use their casual homophobia as an excuse for humor) or in any other way. Shaffir’s set doesn’t have a problem if we hold it to that standard. However, a lot of his jokes don’t really land. As a result, despite all the praise I have for him, the entire experience is just above ‘mid.’ I don’t particularly blame the comedian here, though. You should cut him some slack for trying some jokes that didn’t yield laughter—it’s a very hard job anyway. Although, I would say the one hour and fifteen minute runtime of the performance is a bit too much, considering forty percent of the jokes don’t work out.
Shaffir did save the best for last, though, like all great performers. And this one happens to be about the Holocaust and comes from his own lineage. Shaffir’s grandfather is a Holocaust survivor who ended up in the Bergen Belsen concentration camp during the dark days. Now, in order to find positivity in everything, Shaffir once threw a question to the man—whether there was ever a good day there. His grandfather, not unexpectedly, reacted angrily, calling Shaffir a disappointment before finally answering. The good day during the Holocaust was when the most annoying prisoner in the camp got gassed by the Nazis. This is the darkest joke of the whole set, if you think about it, and Shaffir doesn’t leave the stage without addressing that some of the people in the audience might not like it. But then he urges them to leave with the jokes they liked instead. It is all about finding positivity in everything, after all.