Comedians have a special talent: they can satirize even the most mundane situations into comic material and somehow manage to slip in a crude joke at the same time. And right now, laughter seems more necessary than ever. With this in mind, I was excited to see that the Student Programming Council (SPC) had booked Michael Kosta from “The Daily Show With Trevor Noah” and Dylan Marron from “Conversations With People Who Hate Me” to round out Homecoming Week on Oct. 24.
I went into the event not knowing what to expect. I had never attended a comedy event before, much less virtually. I was familiar with Marron, having been a fan of his podcast and other content, but I knew next to nothing about Kosta. This would prove to have little impact on my experience due to the webinar-style structure of the event.
The event was hosted by SPC Speakers Chair Gabriela Rucker (23C), who introduced Kosta and Marron with YouTube clips from their respective shows and proceeded to give them the floor. The men went back and forth, asking each other questions in an interview-like style for a majority of the hour-long event. Essentially, they discussed the ins and outs of their jobs as comedians in the current political climate for the entire hour. Kosta almost exclusively discussed his pre-pandemic work on “The Daily Show” and talked about how he believes the show’s job is to “call out bullshit rather than push a liberal agenda.”
Marron discussed the minutiae of his podcast and the fact that he’s speaking to people whom he, as a gay Latino, is usually at odds with. Marron was also vocal about the need for more care in online interactions as he believes people tend to hide behind their screens and feel emboldened by anonymity without realizing how irreversible their words are. “It’s more permanent than a tattoo,” Marron said.
Despite Kosta and Marron’s casual demeanor, I felt like I was listening in on something intentionally inauthentic or stilted. The men’s responses felt very careful; as if they were giving overused stock responses from memory. This was disappointing given that I expected two comedians to be more forthcoming or down to earth when speaking about their jobs. Even during the event, I found myself wondering who wrote the formal, interview-style questions that bordered on generic, as I doubt it could have been Kosta or Marron.
The style of the event also left little to be desired. I realize not much can be done in 2020, but the webinar structure felt extremely isolating, even more so than a traditional Zoom call. Typically, an event like this would be held in an auditorium-style space and the subtle interactions between everyone at the event (that are ultimately lost virtually) would make the experience more lively. For those who have never had a webinar-style call, it is very different from your regular Zoom class.
In short, webinars only allow attendees to view and listen while the hosts and panelists have all the control. Because I couldn’t tell how many other people were attending the event and Kosta and Marron also couldn’t see the audience, I felt very separated from them and my fellow attendees — if anyone else had even attended at all. This sense of separation worsened during the audience Q&A, which took place during the final quarter of the hour. I typed a question for Marron about his podcast, asking if he still checks up on the guests he’s had on the show over the years. I asked this because “Conversations With People Who Hate Me” brings in real people who have left hate comments on Marron’s social media profiles to have a phone call with him, and politics often come into play. A running theme of the show is that we should remember that there is a person on the other side of the screen, and therefore be mindful of what we say online.
Like any fan, I was excited to have someone whose work I enjoy answer my question and address me by name. However, the format of the event once again cast a shadow on the experience. After Marron answered my question, Kosta made a comment about how it seemed like I had only asked that question just to “let [Marron] know they listen.” I was embarrassed by this because, of course, I was literally in the room, and yet I could not defend myself.
I was genuinely curious if Marron kept in touch with his guests, especially considering the themes of the show. To his credit, Kosta seemed to realize that I was probably still watching, and made some attempt to recover his fumble. Marron, for his part, was incredibly kind despite the fact that he could not see me and tried his best to address me directly. He seemed to understand what I was asking and revealed that he does keep in touch with his guests as best as he can.
I don’t regret attending the event at all. I know I would get only a few opportunities to see a creator I’m a fan of otherwise. However, that doesn’t change the sadness I felt when I realized just how isolating the format of this event was. Despite the fact that this was a comedy event, I shut my laptop with my spirits dampened rather than brightened.
Copy Chief | Jada Chambers (she/her, 23C) is from Southaven, Mississippi, majoring in art history and classical civilizations. When she isn’t copy editing, you can find her translating ancient Latin or watching cheesy old horror flicks.
