Ricky Gervais famously stirred the pot at the 2016 Golden Globe Awards with a joke about Caitlyn Jenner many perceived as transphobic: “I’ve changed. Not as much as Bruce Jenner, obviously. Now Caitlyn Jenner, of course. What a year she’s had. She became a role model for trans people everywhere, showing great bravery in breaking down barriers and destroying stereotypes. She didn’t do a lot for women drivers, but you can’t have everything, can ya?” As he went on to explain, the latter bit was a reference to the 2015 fatal car crash Jenner caused on California’s Pacific Coast Highway. Therefore, Gervais argued, the joke’s real target was the “women drivers” stereotype and not Jenner’s then-recent transition.
Two years later the British comedian hasn’t forgotten the joke’s reception. In fact, his new Netflix special Humanity is quite literally the result of his wanting to defend the joke. “Hosting The Globes has made me want to do a new stand up show next year,” he said in 2016. And to make this even weirder, Gervais is not the only big comic to create a new hour with such a defensive angle in mind. The third of Dave Chappelle’s four Netflix specials released in 2017, Equanimity, also spends some time explaining away his controversial lines about Jenner and transgender people from The Age of Spin.
A great deal has already been written about Gervais and Chappelle’s respective attempts to draw humor out of what many Americans perceive to be a pertinent civil rights issue (albeit at the civil rights seekers’ expense). So instead of barreling through the original jokes yet again in order to explain why they’re transphobic or not, let’s consider the comedians’ mutual decision to regurgitate them in an attempt to explain why they’re funny. By revisiting them, both want to tell their audiences why these jokes aren’t anti-transgender people and why their critics are wrong. They apparently feel the need to explain their comedy with more comedy, but the gambit isn’t entirely successful. Mostly, it suggests both are unwilling to move on.
It’s also a lazy move. In the preface to his 1941 book A Subtreasury of American Humor, E.B. White opined, “Humor can be dissected, as a frog can, but the thing dies in the process and the innards are discouraging to any but the pure scientific mind.” In other words, anything that’s meant to be funny stops being funny when one attempts to explain its mechanics. The driving force behind this sentiment is the notion that a successful joke should stand on its own. If the punchline falls flat, or proves to be more offensive or shocking than funny, then the joke does not succeed. Comedy is subjective, but if a comic has to explain why a joke is funny, are they working hard enough to get the laugh?
Posing a deeply philosophical quandary like this is also a gambit since volumes have been written in an attempt to find answers. For the sake of argument, let’s assume the typical crowd at a comedy show just wants to laugh. They don’t want a lecture on why the jokes are funny or not. So what are we, the audience, supposed to think when four minutes into Humanity, Gervais revisits the Golden Globes by launching into a defensive explanation of his Jenner joke? He peppers the bit with additional punchlines to make it appear lively and fresh, but the whole thing is just him stumping for his brand of humor. He spends more time demonstrating how the comedic sausage is made, and lashing out at those who dislike its taste, than he does feeding it to his hungry listeners.