I’ve spent much of my life enjoying comedy of all stripes. For me, my enjoyment of comedy follows the same curve that pornography does: What titillates the virgin mind quickly becomes too commonplace to elicit arousal. I’ve got to get into darker, more turbid waters to get excited.
Dave delivers. For me, comedy is all about saying things that wouldn’t be acceptable in polite company. It’s about pushing boundaries and stripping away all sense of moral propriety. I find the most humor in the crudest places. Ari Shaffir pulled out his penis during a recent episode of Kill Tony and I almost died laughing.
You need to watch the Japanese version of Last One Laughing, the originator of the format: Documental. There are several seasons of it available on Prime Video, and each episode is a masterclass in comedy or, more precisely, the search for some rational explanation behind the things that make us laugh. It begs the question, “What’s more important? The content of what makes us laugh, or the laughter itself?” Do the things that make us laugh offer us, and others, insights into who we are as human beings? Does it even go that deep?
Anyway, The Dreamer made me laugh.