Comedy Is Pain
I’ve known my entire life what I wanted to do when I grew up. To make people laugh. To let joy and happiness trail me everywhere I went. I’d watch early 90s’ Chris Farley yell about a van down by the river and Wedding Singer era Adam Sandler make indiscernible noises on SNL thinking the entire time “yeah. This feeling in my gut is what it feels like to be alive.” I had found “it.” That thing my parents said people search for their whole life. Something to wake people up in the morning. Something to leave people satisfied at night. A goal. A dream. To be the best comedian who ever lived. I didn’t know the business of going about it, but I learned two lessons early. The first was how hard it would be to achieve this. The second was an incredibly well-known truth:
Comedy is pain.
Who Framed Rodger Rabbit opens with a baby crying in a crib. As the mother leaves for her day job, she gives Rodger a simple task. Make sure to watch this baby or he’s going back to whatever science lab produces a talking rabbit. Rodger agrees, not fully understanding the scope of what this babysitting job would entail and chaos ensues. Knives are thrown at him. A refrigerator is dropped on his head. A far-off director yells “cut” and we pan out.
The human world and the cartoon world are one.
The line between the two is nonexistent. They intersect. A blend of vibrant colors posed against everyday life. The cartoons are excited. The people are curt. In Hollywood, acting roles are delegated to the two dimensional. Most of the jobs in comedy go to Dumbo or Daffy Duck. They just want to entertain because it is all they know. “Look! Look! Look!” Rodger demands, hitting himself with a frying pan a million times. “I can get my lines right if you drop the refrigerator on me one more time!”
He’s great at getting hurt.
Rodger has been underperforming at work lately. His boss, R.K. Maroon, decides to hire private investigator Eddie Valiant to give Rodger a reason to work. The plan is to photograph Rodgers’ wife Jessica Rabbit playing patty cake with Marvin Acme. The universal code for “cheating.” In some backwards way, Maroon hopes this will be incentive for Rodger to do his job better, telling Eddie:
“He’s a toon you can drop anything on his head he’ll shake it off. But break his heart, it goes to pieces just like you and me.”
At the center of humanity is emotion. It drives us to do our best in everything. Work, relationships, friendships. Maroon thinks exploiting this range of feelings will bleed over in to Rodgers’ work, however Rodger doesn’t need any push. He is already an incredibly talented comedian because he has mastered the art of hiding emotion within his work. Instead of confronting whenever he is sad or mad, he makes jokes that put off dealing with emotional labor. His wife is cheating. He’s being framed for murder. This is a time when he should make way for sadness but instead, he perseveres. He doesn’t have time to work on himself because he exists to entertain other people.
He must generate laughter at his own expense.
I adjusted my sense of humor after I saw my parents react to Chris Farley. I was too young to emotionally attach myself to anyone in life so I let my parents cry over his death for me. Their sadness was subtle. My mom would sigh at the kitchen table over news coverage about the incident. My dad would watch Tommy Boy and talk about how we “lost a good one too soon.” I would nod in agreement but offer no words of consolation. I didn’t quite understand the circumstances surrounding his death because sadness was still something foreign to me. For at least the next ten years, my mental health would cruise a relatively smooth road, reaching its’ peak by high school.
I sank in to sadness at 16 when I was diagnosed with clinical depression. It seemed like the biggest road block to my dreams. An irony ill-fated to me. It wasn’t isolating, but it was confusing. I understood other great comedians had come before me with depression, but I thought taking care of my mental health would take away from creating art from a place of joy. A place of happiness that could produce other happiness.
How would I take time to care for others if I couldn’t care for myself?
This same sense of dread is mirrored in Rodger early on. He is trapped. Resigned to a fate he did not ask for around 20 minutes in to the film. His wife cheated on him and now, her alleged lover is dead. With no one else to take blame besides Rodger, the town quickly pins the murder on him. Judge Doom, the films’ villain, puts a bounty on his head. He requests that anybody with information on Rodgers’ whereabouts come forward and help with the investigation. During this time, Eddie manages to hide Rodger at a nearby bar, telling him he must stay hidden to save his life. As soon as Eddie leaves, Rodger breaks out of the back room to perform for everyone in the bar, stating:
“Sometimes a laugh can be the only thing people need.”
He puts himself in danger of being found just to entertain people at the bar. His entire world is falling apart around him and the only way he can address it is by doing what he does best. Meeting grief with humor. He powers through a time when many of us would throw in the towel by surrounding himself with love and validation. In response, the bar pledges allegiance to him. Laughter in exchange for silence. When Doom comes through asking where Rodger might be, nobody rats him out. They all stand resolute against the man. Doom is terrifying but solidarity is stronger. The message is clear, the kindness you put out in to the world can only be met with more kindness.
Who Framed Rodger Rabbit manages to marry two worlds driven by the same innate need. To connect with people who are also broken inside. Eddie hasn’t laughed since his brother was killed by a toon. Rodger is dealing with incredibly traumatizing events. Over time, they crutch on each other enough to fill holes that are empty. Eddie laughs at the close of the movie as he tries to divert Doom from killing Jessica and Rodger. He beats himself up with nearby props to entertain and distract Dooms’ henchmen, finally accepting that maybe pain is humor. Maybe life is a cycle. Truth is pain. Pain is laughter. Laughter is love. When asked about her possible infidelity, Jessica responds to Eddie saying “I would never cheat on Rodger. He makes me laugh.” The worlds are split but the words are the same. United in humor, they find comfort in each other.
Clinical depression is a rampant problem in America that goes widely unaddressed. Without insurance, therapy sessions can range up to $250. Even with therapy, it can be difficult pinpointing which medication to take to combat it. Some makes you tired. Some makes you lose your appetite. At least in my experiences, all of them make you feel numb. To a point you find it almost impossible to create art to entertain others.
Yet, you trudge on. You find a buoy in the riptide and you hold on. That one thing that makes every day worth all the other days to come. Your family. Your friends. Your drive. Your sense of humor. If you carve out a place of solid happiness you can revisit every time you’re sad, you’re set. If you take the time to know and understand yourself, how to reward yourself when you need one, you’re set. Sometimes, the small things are all we need. A hug from a friend. A shoulder to cry on. A dream to achieve.
Sometimes, a laugh can be the only thing people need.
