Is it even a joke if you have to explain it? But that’s what Ricky Gervais repeatedly does in his new Netflix special, Armageddon. Essentially a cover version of his greatest hits, the hourlong special finds the comedian taking particular delight in essentially committing an act of onstage arson. Gervais tackles everything from dying babies to dwarf actors, from China to chimpanzees. “You’ll realise this is great satire when I’m dead,” he says at the end of a particularly hilarious bit about ordering a pair of track bottoms off Amazon.
His recurring schtick in Armageddon is to keep telling the audience that he’s still workshopping the material, implying that some of the jokes haven’t yet been perfected. It’s all a part of the act, of course, even the extended break-downs. The bigger question is, why? Why, after all these years, does Gervais feel the need to underline every point that he is making? The simplest answer is that, in his attempt to spell things out, he is satirising his audience’s dwindling appetite for risqué humour.
But far too often, the effect can be quite patronising. It’s like he’s preempting the outrage by directly addressing the invisible hordes who’ll complain about his material months later, after stumbling upon it on Reels or something. “Before you take offence,” he seems to be saying, “Let me tell you that you haven’t understood anything.” But in doing so, he’s electing to ignore the crowds in front of him, and the people who’ve willingly clicked on a thumbnail of his face on Netflix. But making these assumptions is its own form of arrogance, isn’t it?
Gervais’ observations about the world are as nihilistic as ever, and despite his claims that he chooses to keep his politics private, he’s actually only referring to the sort that concerns prime ministers and presidents. His world-view and belief-system is obviously apparent. Without ever using the words ‘cancel culture’, for instance, he makes his feelings about easy outrage absolutely clear. And when he calls himself ‘woke’, he isn’t making fun of the liberals — he’s clearly a progressive man himself — but he’s actually pointing out the transient nature of language. Once worn as a badge of honour, the word has now been reduced to an insult; and a tired one at that. There’s humour to be found in that idea.
To enjoy Gervais’ comedy, everybody must first understand that that isn’t Gervais up on stage. He’s playing a character; in fact, he’s playing a revolving door of characters, and if the joke requires, he wouldn’t bat an eyelid before transforming into a bigot, or a racist. He jokes about babies with AIDS in Africa, but they aren’t the punchline. In that excellent bit, Gervais is highlighting the vast social inequalities of the world that we often overlook, and, more ambitiously, questioning God himself. To point out that a comedian isn’t obligated to be factually honest on stage feels almost as absurd as a comedian having to explain their jokes, but there you have it. We do, after all, live in a world where Hasan Minhaj can be put on trial for ‘fabricating’ certain details in his autobiographical comedy.
Has there been a more pointless controversy this year? Probably not. But it’s clear that audiences are no longer taking a comic’s spirit and sensibilities into account. It’s one thing to criticise Dave Chappelle, for instance. He deserves it, because he truly believes in the regressive nonsense that he’s been peddling for millions of dollars. It’s fair also to criticise Bill Burr, whose recent film, Old Dads, revealed everything one would ever need to know about the way he views the world. But there’s a difference between what they’re doing and what Gervais is.
Here’s a comic who’s operating at cruising altitude, but crucially, not breaking any barriers. Armageddon is by no stretch of the imagination his finest work, but there’s an effortlessness to his delivery, a confidence in his capacity to push the right buttons that only comes with experience. Those attuned to his style of comedy, however, will be left wanting. The issues that he has chosen to tackle are often timely, but his observations can’t help but feel a little dated.
