When a Comic’s Silence Says Everything
In his latest special, Rothaniel, the comedian Jerrod Carmichael doesn’t seem all that interested in getting his audience to laugh—or even in being the star. Rather than emerge from a dressing room backstage, he wanders into New York City’s Blue Note Jazz Club as if he were just passing by, shrugging off his winter coat without fanfare. He takes a seat in a folding chair and grabs a mic, but he doesn’t launch into jokes. Instead, he makes sure the crowd is comfortable. “This only works,” he explains, “if we feel like family.”
“This,” as ithit HBO Max has been the one he discloses halfway through: that he’s a gay man. But isn’t powerful because Carmichael comes out; it’s powerful because, by the end of his hour on stage, Carmichael is still untangling how he feels about being so open. His story is incomplete and imperfect. In his honesty and tenderness, Carmichael has created a special that blurs the line between comedy and confession, exposing how humor can relieve incredible tension while obscuring so much truth.
