A Piratical Debate – Why we will never have Universal Funny
Sunday, February 3rd, 2008
Many conversations take place behind the scenes here on the Romance Writer’s Revenge. One of those exchanges led to today’s debate. Why sometimes funny is not funny to all.
Captain Hellion’s opening statement:
It is said that writing tragedy is easy, but writing comedy is hard. Why is that? Why is it easy for us to agree that death of a loved one or puppies murdered for their fur or [SPOILER ALERT!] Will Turner being cursed as the Flying Dutchman’s captain and only seeing Elizabeth once every ten years are all tragic, but humor, that which gets us through all the heartbreak, is subjective?
Boatswain Terrio’s opening statement:
I think the reason tragedy is universal is because it hits the heart. A fickle, soft organ that most everyone owns but no one controls. Though it recovers it is completely susceptible to the slightest tale of sadness, loss or pain. Humor, however, aims for the funny bone. A much tougher nut to crack. The funny bone is not fickle but rather choosy and might I say persnickety. Which is why humor is subjective.
Captain Hellion:
Last summer, I went to Virginia and met my virtual-friend Terri. Though we hailed from different backgrounds and different childhoods, we were alike in a lot of ways. Hell, we even photographed the same: unhappy with the outcome, but faintly sunburned from all the fun we were having. Now Terri and I laugh at a lot of the same things, except I adore Will Ferrell and she has absolutely no taste where he is concerned. Now it’s easy to love Jon Stewart and that Colbert guy—the brainy, sarcastic grown-up geek who has filled out from his pasty-white, lanky-thin days and has proved once and for all to his high school graduating class that: Sure you may have stuffed me in a locker repeatedly, but who’s laughing now?
Boatswain Terrio:
Ah, last year’s vacation. Good times. Good times. And speaking of pictures, have you gotten yours developed yet? Hmmmm? And I have to say I am a real person - not just virtual. LOL! Though I bet if I were virtual I would weigh virtually nothing. Yes, lets say I’m virtual. Now, I must argue that it is not a matter of having no taste but rather Will Ferrell not being to my taste. I never even realized that I had never seen a Will Ferrell movie until we started talking about it. It wasn’t a conscious avoidance. More the result of me avoiding things I don’t find funny. I do like Jon Stewart because his humor is laced with a touch of truth and intelligence. For me there is a fine line between being silly and being stupid. In most cases, for me, Ferrell obliterates that line.
Captain Hellion:
The difference between a comedian like Will Ferrell and one like Jon Stewart is like the difference between going on a date with Adam Sandler verses a date with Dennis Miller. With Adam, he’d make you feel okay about spilling spaghetti down your blouse by offering to suck the spaghetti strands out of your cleavage with his straw. Dennis would probably offer you the history of pasta that would amuse you, but then remind you that hey, the Romans had a democracy—and they were also Republican. While you would be laughing your ass off at Adam’s antics, wondering who the hell sucks spaghetti though a straw; with Dennis you’d point out just like the Romans, American Republicans are also equally corrupt and prone to stabbing each other in the back. Et tu, McCain?
Boatswain Terrio:
Again I must argue. I would never go on a date with Dennis Miller. Have you seen the man’s hands? Way too small. And he may not cross the line into stupid but he’s more condescending and pretentious than I could possibly bear. This is about the humor, not the men.
Captain Hellion:
The problem with being the guy who was stuffed in the locker all the time is that even your humor is serious. You spend a lot of your time mocking and satirizing the world around you, which admittedly is funny (if you can’t laugh at yourself, who can you laugh at?), but there’s
an edge to it. It’s not laughing for laughter’s sake. It’s not as carefree; it’s not as childlike. And if there’s one thing Will Ferrell is: he’s a great big child.
Boatswain Terrio:
Hence the problem for me. I’m not interested in laughing for laughter’s sake or watching anything childish. And I do use that word opposed to childlike since I think it fits Mr. Ferrell much better. Maybe my problem is that I don’t find the ridiculous funny. I want there to be a point to the joke. I want it to be funny because it’s true. I prefer irony or a twist of words.
Captain Hellion:
And then you have: Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. Not a serious moment to be found, and certainly no hidden moral agenda. Just stupid catchphrases and tasteless sequences that leave you laughing, appalled, in your chair. Even Will’s commercially serious comedy:
Stranger Than Fiction, was more sweet and funny, in the manner of Elf, than painfully pretentious. Maybe it’s the short blonde curls and the wide innocent expression Will does so well. After all, he would embrace any obnoxious role on Saturday Night Live and do it so deadpan, he’d keep in character even while every other skit-mate was falling apart around him. Why do I love Will Ferrell? His ability to deliver lines like: “Dear tiny, infant Jesus, lying in his tiny golden fleece…” and “Smiling’s my favorite” and “I work for the IRS, everyone hates me” with equal deadpan sincerity. Will is sincere, and he’s sincerely funny. That’s all.
Boatswain Terrio:
Ah, THAT movie. That is the worst to me. And yes, I’m a NASCAR fan and that might cloud my judgment but it’s precisely lines like those I do not find amusing. The ability to deadpan only works for me if the punch line is actually funny. To be fair, I don’t like Ben Stiller movies either or much of the humor Owen Wilson does. At least when he does movies with Stiller.
The bottom line here is not whether Will Ferrell is funny. It’s that what IS funny is not universal. Which means how do you know if what you’ve written is funny? Many books, no matter how serious, have some sort of comic relief. But what if what we write as relief is not funny to the reader? We can be sure that when we break our heroine’s heart, our readers will feel the pain. When our hero cries, our reader’s will cry. But will they laugh when our hero steps on our heroine’s foot sending her into curses and name calling? Or when our heroine’s father walks in to catch his daughter in a most *compromising* position?
I put the question to you. What do you find funny? Do you prefer Will Ferrell or Jon Stewart? Is it high brow stuff for you or maybe slapstick and the ridiculous? Or do you prefer no humor at all in your books? If that’s the case, then I apologize for the drivel of today’s blog. *g*