This isn’t Tony Hinchcliffe‘s first solo stand-up special for Netflix, although you’ll have a hard time finding One Shot, scrubbed from the platform and online since its release a decade ago. Will this new hour stand the test of time? Or is it very much of this moment in time, and if so, what does that say about Hinchcliffe, about Joe Rogan’s Comedy Mothership, and their influence on stand-up comedy, and about us as comedy fans?.
The Gist: As Hinchcliffe says while explaining one of his jokes, “I’m guessing that if you’re here, you’re probably fans of the show Kill Tony.”
That’s the name of the weekly show he started at The Comedy Store in Los Angeles before moving it to Austin during the pandemic, following Joe Rogan (whom Hinchcliffe used to tour with as Rogan’s opening act) to the Texas capital city and eventually setting up shop at Rogan’s club, the Comedy Mothership. Kill Tony works essentially like a modern-day version of The Gong Show, as a procession of open-mic level comedians get 60 seconds to impress Hinchcliffe and a panel of his funny friends and celebrities, who more often than not mock the wannabe comedians who waited in line for hours hoping to get their names pulled from the bucket. As with The Gong Show, Kill Tony also brings in ringers (favored comedians) to help ensure there are at least some jokes told from the stage. Streaming Kill Tony on YouTube helped the show’s popularity explode during the pandemic, to the point where it has sold out arenas in both Los Angeles and New York City, and earned Hinchcliffe a multi-special deal with Netflix.
Now if Kill Tony means nothing to you, you still might recognize Hinchcliffe from his appearances roasting famous comedians and celebrities on the Netflix roasts of Tom Brady and Kevin Hart.
And even if you’re not big on roasting but you feel like you know this guy from somewhere, it’s likely due to his inflammatory comments such as his “joke” invoking the late George Floyd during the Kevin Hart roast, or when he insulted all of Puerto Rico during a Trump Rally at Madison Square Garden just before the 2024 election.
Want to know what it’s like seeing that guy alone onstage for an hour?

What Comedy Special Will It Remind You Of? Plenty of famous comedians have filmed specials in the round from the Celebrity Theatre in Phoenix (among them, George Carlin, Louis CK, Nate Bargatze, and Tom Segura), but the Rogansphere Reddit community most often cites Brendan Schaub’s Gringo Papi as the closest comp.
Memorable Jokes: A lot of the barbs sent Hinchcliffe’s way from his friends in comedy have suggested he’s gay, and in the first couple of minutes, he plays into it by suggesting owning a gun is “like having a second dick.” He says,“I know, ‘cause the first thing I did when I got it home is I put it in my mouth.” But he then immediately claims that’s a misdirect and goes to lengths to explain himself, saying almost as many people think he’s making a gay joke versus a joke about killing himself. What he really wants you to know is that he’s sick of hearing people claim he’s gay. “You see a guy with good bone structure, a little bit of style to him, a slightly higher-pitched voice than you’re used to on your work site, and you picture that guy getting butt-f—ed. Dude? That’s f–ing gay, dude.”
When he’s not in defensive mode, he’s purposely offensive, spending more time than you’d think talking with audience members.
Befitting a guy who stumped for Trump, he encourages his white audience members to try saying “the N-word” privately when they stub their toes in the night. For pain relief.
He mocks his Latina maid for worrying about immigration and jokingly suggests Elon Musk rocketing immigrants across the border, with the rockets returning with avocados and Cholula. “These are the ideas that I’m pitching to the top.” He praises Trump (minus his signature) and bashes Biden. He jokingly suggests getting around Texas’s abortion ban:“Flying your girl to Colorado via Spirit Airlines is $35 right now. It’s true.” Except it’s most definitely not true now. He similarly jokes that his “least-favorite race” is Canadian (not a race), and tells the audience in Phoenix, famously in the southwest corner of the country, that “it’s good to be here in the middle of the United States of America.”
Don’t worry, though. He’s also saved up a big closer about how Jews may or may not run show business.
Our Take: Before you get in line to accuse Hinchcliffe of racism (if you’re in line, please stay in line), he wants you to know that he grew up in an all-black neighborhood. Moreover, he claims: “People have called me a racist, and a this and a that. Meanwhile, nobody in my industry helps more people of color, Latinos or trans people. And meanwhile, it seems like every year or two, the whole f–ing world turns on me, and none of you people Tweet anything about it when it happens. You just wait it out and wait for another Monday episode (of Kill Tony).”
But why accuse Hinchcliffe of racism when it’s so much easier to point out the distinct lack of joke-writing or humor in his stand-up comedy?
He’s made his name and money in comedy for his ability to rip into famous people for a few minutes at a time. Yet, given a full hour on the biggest streaming platform, he has absolutely nothing new or witty to say about anyone or anything in power. There’s no comedy. No catharsis. Just open-mic level crowd-work and stereotypes. Is he saving it all for some imaginary future Netflix roast?
All we’re left with is the kind of thing any bully or troll could have and probably has uttered to these audience members. Just because he’s Netflix famous doesn’t make it funnier. He’s no Don Rickles. He’s not even close to Jeffrey Ross’s level.
What you see here is what you get on Kill Tony. Except on his talent contest/roast, he’s riffing off of amateur stand-ups and allowing his funnier, more famous friends to provide the actual comedy. Without them, he’s left to his own devices, ambling his way around the circular stage, looking for more strangers to insult between awkward pauses.
What’s even sadder is how much this sets back the actual art of stand-up. Even in the ’90s, long before social media or TikTok, many people felt anxious about attending a live comedy show for fear of getting picked on by the comedian. Specials like these alienate fans, they don’t humor them.
Our Call: SKIP IT. Unless you want to see what all the hoopla is about before Netflix scrubs this special from existence, too.
Sean L. McCarthy works the comedy beat. He also podcasts half-hour episodes with comedians revealing origin stories: The Comic’s Comic Presents Last Things First.
