Jeremy Allen White in a still from The Bear. (Photo: FX)
The 76th Emmy Awards had the misfortune of being overshadowed by its predecessor that aired in January. Not so much for lack of entertainment — more so by the boredom of a jaded audience which has gone through an Emmy Awards show this year. The sheer number of award shows nowadays also means most of them are more or less glorified watchlists. Hosts Eugene and Dan Levy and the Only Murders in the Building trio of Selena Gomez, Martin Short and Steve Martin, however, were somewhat of a saving grace.
Though there has been much less buzz about this edition, it has sparked a heated debate online: Should The Bear have been categorised as a comedy show? Given the laugh tracks and obvious nature of sitcom humour, I was inclined to disagree. However, upon reflecting further, I realised that the problem is not with the Academy’s categorisation as much as it is with our idea of what constitutes comedy.
The classic American shows Seinfeld, The Big Bang Theory, The Office, Parks and Recreation, Modern Family, etc are obviously part of the comedy genre. But many have argued that The Sopranos, in essence a dark tale about an Italian mobster, is also a comedy. The traditional understanding of comedy comes from Aristotle’s notion of it as a reflection of the mundaneness of daily life. It is essentially an act of exaggeration of an otherwise dull moment. For instance, the stand-up comic who satirises and amplifies a small detail of a regular situation to draw attention to a specific absurdity of it. The laughter is gleaned not from the situation itself, but the observation of the comedian. On a busy street, look around you at any given moment and you will spot more than one person who takes themselves too seriously. Be it a lawyer rushing to court, corporate workers making their way to the office or a parent hurrying a child to school. There is a sense of absurdity in people believing that their actions are significant enough to really matter (for some, like rich people worsening the climate crisis unfortunately, it may be true — not so much for the rest of us).
In The Bear, Jeremy Allen White plays a tightly-wound young chef Carmy who has taken it upon himself to save his family’s sandwich shop. He clearly takes himself very seriously, a trait common among those who consider themselves “saviours”. But the conspicuousness of it is funny to those around him who are unable to take him as seriously. This clash of personalities leads to moments of discomfort and a mismatch of moods. That in itself is comical. The other characters, his restaurant partners, sous chefs, love interest, family are constantly in a liminal space of uncertainty around him, recognising the preposterousness of some of the actions Carmy undertakes unthinkingly. Does it always merit snort-out laughter? Not really.
There are other kinds of comedy as well — self-deprecating, dark, existentialist humour. Australian comic Hannah Gadsby, in her Netflix standup Nanette reveals alarming details about her life, discussing her sexuality, gender, childhood that have shaped her as a person. Much of it is disturbing incidents from her past packaged as humorous content for the audience to be able to digest and learn from a person vastly different from them. It is comedy as much as Modern Family is comedy. One explores the dark side of being queer, the other tries to spin it as a not-so-serious detail.
Another similar example is from the show Baby Reindeer where actor-cum-writer Richard Gadd divulges the story of his abuse at a comedy show. The Netflix series is inspired by Gadd’s real-life experience of being sexually abused by an older man and subsequently stalked by an older woman. He discusses the visible shift in the atmosphere of the room when he begins the tale of his abuse, but he is not necessarily denying calling the show a “comedy show”.
This is not to make light of seriously tragic incidents in people’s lives. Rather, it is to reimagine the space of comedy in our lives. The space it offers to be dark, existential, fatalist or merely amusing. Incidents in themselves are rarely funny, it is the context that decides whether it is comic relief or tragedy. The Bear is inherently an anxiety-inducing show exploring the pressures of running a restaurant. But the recurring failure of the characters to make the kitchen function seamlessly adds a level of absurdity that is so comical at times that it is tragic. And therein lies the irony.
adya.goyal@expressindia.com
