Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10
Cast: Kumail Nanjiani, Amara Karen, Diarra Kilpatrick, Ryan Robbins, Tracy Morgan, Jordan Peele, Marc Joseph, Toby Hargrave, Danny Dworkis, Jacob Machin, Briana Rayner, Darcey Michael, Sean Hewlett, Brendon Zub.
Individuality gets a hard press in the modern era, by staying true to your own core values and vision you are seemingly obligated to undergo derision, of being accused of forgoing inclusion in the search for unique distinctiveness, of owing your own voice instead of being part of design by committee. Whilst inclusion is a good thing, whilst hearing the opinions of others is way to gauge your audience, to fall in line with another to the point where they subsume your tongue, that is the path to just being another blank face on a multiplying wall.
Art, for the most part, is not a collective, it is the extension of a person’s willingness to be radical with their own thoughts and give rise to the democracy of one; the group effort, whilst vital in many respects, is an organism that dilutes the power available to an artist and sees them self-silence, to mute the part of the brain which tells them to push the boundary just that little bit further.
In Alex Ruben’s The Comedian, The Twilight Zone explores the idea of what happens when that power of confidence is enhanced to the point where nothing is off limits and the culpability of our souls when we attract the wrong audience, those that bay for blood, those that urge us into the irresponsible and often reckless trains of thought that happen every day in the world of social media, the joke too far, the need to name names without due care or attention to the process of law. That is the moment the laughter becomes like the beckoning call of the wild hyena, and it is one exemplified by the willingness of Kumail Nanjiani’s Samir Wassan as he sees the path to fame and fortune open up before him by being nothing short of vile, vindictive and mean.
By embracing the need to conform to be like everyone else as a way to be accepted, Samir Wassan loses his soul, the belief of being true to your own voice coming at a cost where others soon fade out of life. It is a warning for the age, we may believe we are being funny when we take the dark road of calling people out on line for their foibles and supposed sleights, but instead of being liked for our own care, we become like everyone else, forgotten, faceless, and disappearing into the where are they now files.
The comedian is as only as true as the audience that laughs in the right places, to believe otherwise is find yourself in a world of misplaced ego and false appreciation. The Comedian that makes you think is to be preserved, one that The Twilight Zone under the watchful eyes of Jordan Peele understands only too well.
Ian D. Hall