Michelle Wolf’s “It’s Great to Be Here” Comedy Special Review

Aside from a few notable outliers, 2023 has been a normal year for comedy specials. “Unremarkable” isn’t the same as “bad” — many of the specials released this year — especially from bigger, more established names like Wanda Sykes, Nate Bargazzi, Hannah Gadsby, and Kevin Hart – are enjoyable, well-produced, and often entertaining hours of comedy. But it’s not all special, at least not in the way that truly exciting comedy specials can be when they’re done well: when there’s a cohesive theme to an hour, the visuals are thoughtful and striking, and there’s a clear, unambiguous idea of ​​what the show’s purpose goes beyond.” Fortunately, I have signed a contract to shoot a special film.”

Again: that’s not bad! Not everything will be like that Ruthaniel, you know? It can’t (and shouldn’t!) be Mo’Nique pulling the rope on his career retrospective, or John Early making a high-concept movie musical parody. But formally and aesthetically, the distinctive comic as an object did not offer much wiggle room or flexibility to accompany differences in genres of presentation. A group of comedians standing on stage for an hour can certainly be a massive, meticulously constructed and very special act. This could be Anthony Jeselnik’s style of joke-centric jokes, or Mike Birbiglia’s style of long-form narrative, or — you’d say it — Nanette. But many hour-long comedy specials are deliberately less cohesive and nuanced. It belongs in the “totally enjoyable” category, although it often sounds and shapes in the same mold as “this is a big, big deal.” Unless the comedian comes up with a clearly out-of-the-ordinary concept that is reflected in the design of the special, like Moses Storm’s 2022 special. White trash, the baseline “hour-long footage of a person on stage, with occasional reaction shots of the audience laughing” can blur everything together. What’s the middle ground between “This is important” and “Here are some good jokes that don’t fit together, which I can also collect for my YouTube page”?

This, more than anything else, is the most exciting thing about Michelle Wolf’s new Netflix special (series?), It’s great to be here. The material itself is a mixed bag at best. Wolfe is a better, more careful writer than many, but the conceptual foundation hangs frustratingly on ideas adjacent to Chappelle and Louis CK: gender norms, transphobia, and paranoia about cancel culture. There are other sections, too — a segment about Wolfe’s life with her boyfriend in Barcelona, ​​a polemic about the emptiness of universal beauty campaigns, and a joke about Nancy Reagan. It’s an update on Wolfe’s life, with material about what she thinks, what she does, and how she feels about some topical issues. It doesn’t hang together as one big, cohesive approach to an hour of comedy, and not just because it’s over an hour long.

But unlike any number of specials this year that also come from a place of updating life, Wolf’s is designed to embrace the casual. Instead of one hour, it is divided into three smaller parts that run in the 20 to 35 minute range. These are also divided into their own smaller sections, with a few intertitle cards to designate separate areas. There’s one called “New Neighborhood” and another called “Me Too” (sigh). The parts are not as structured as the TV episodes, but they refer to some of the same basic ideas. Sections can stand alone. They’re not exactly interchangeable, but they are similar to each other. Most importantly, they can be viewed as comforting companions on screen, rather than as colossal events. They’re young, on purpose.

The visual and production design supports a tone of relaxed casualness. There is footage of shows recorded in a few small venues around the United States, with each section provided by the recording city that received the best show. All the microphones sound a bit crunchy. There are a few different camera angles, but no shots of audience interaction tend to mask the edits that bring multiple performances together. It feels like a better quality version of what happens when a comedian clips a camera to a comedy club door frame to record a set just in case he wants to publish it later. The overall impression is more effectively authentic than when comedians try to overtly signal authenticity, because it is a more convenient meeting of form and content. It’s not Amy Schumer standing on stage in front of her Huge chandelier While providing routine material about what’s been going on with her lately, it’s also more polished and in-depth than the garden variety YouTube special appearance.

Is this particular type profitable? What is the cost for a standard setup of an hour-long stage? How much did Netflix pay for it? Does a multi-part item feed better to the Netflix algorithm? Do Netflix viewers prefer shorter segments? None of this is clear, but it’s easy to guess that the answer to these last two questions might be “yes.” Economics aside, it would be nice to see more comedians adopt this approach to a special. The exciting hour-long premieres, experiments and electric shows deserve attention and appreciation; Smaller daily shows by great working comedians can be just as engaging. There’s no need to break all of these things down into the same general form. Let special offers be special. Provide more space for well-crafted comedic performances.