Comedian Rory Scovel actually does love to improvise, so when he jokes in an opening bit before credits that he’s “just gonna f-ing wing it,” you best believe him. But this hour, perhaps more than any previous stand-up special for Scovel, forces the audience to confront the juxtaposition between his sincerity and his satire in a much more personal way.
The Gist: This marks Scovel’s fifth comedy special and second for Netflix. His previous hour, Rory Scovel: Religion, Sex, and a Few Things in Between, came out on HBO Max.
But you may also recognize him from two other recent HBO projects, as he plays Officer Donnie Mullins on Rooster, and portrayed Jefferson Davis in the new series, Life, Larry and the Pursuit of Unhappiness: an Almost History of America. He’s also enjoyed major turns on the big screen in Babylon and on the small screen on Apple TV‘s Physical.
This time around, Scovel is doubling down on his jokes about religion, while also poking fun at Disney adults, Epstein jokes, and, ultimately, himself.
Memorable Jokes: Scovel jokes that his previous special incurred the wrath of Christians in his comments and DMs, but that’s not stopping him from labeling Christian Republicans as “fake as f—,” or for making fun of religious leaders. After all, Scovel is just following his own calling. “When God calls on you to be a messenger, you do it.”
That said, he mocks himself for how lost he’d be if his wife ever divorced him or died, and imagines if he died first, how much relief his family would feel a couple of days later knowing Scovel would no longer be testing bits out on them. He talks about trying to feel empathy for people who have lost their dad, only to wonder “sucks to have to find a new dad,” or being in heavy conversations with loved ones, all the while just waiting for his turn to talk about his own trivial observations. This, my friends, is what we call foreshadowing.
But don’t worry, comedy fans, for Scovel also has gags about Jeffrey Epstein, about people in wheelchairs cutting the line at amusement parks, and about both Disney adults and the grown-ups who have to pose for countless photos while working inside oversized Disney costumes.
Our Take: Subverting our expectations has always been one of Scovel’s calling cards.
While all comedy to a certain degree relies on misdirection and surprise, Scovel revels in keeping us guessing on where he’s going and what he means by it.
The opening gambit, in which he purportedly fumbles a joke, only to tell his audience, “I’m just gonna f-ing wing it,” is a good example. His fans already know that he’s likely winging it all times, so what makes this different? And yet he gives the audience permission not to laugh the second time. Whether there even is a second time is beside the point. Later, during his jokes about the Epstein files, he claims even his young daughter would call him a hack for telling them, even though he just did tell them, ironically or not, and then backtracks and suggests he didn’t even come up with the jokes, and wonders how you’d feel if you went to the website he allegedly went to, and found this whole act verbatim online.
Or take his opening joke about pivoting politically for the sake of financial success: “Us comics, we have to go red if we want to get a little green, you know what I mean? That time has come for me.” The South Carolina native may have grown up around the Christian Republicans he makes fun of now, but he’d have a difficult time convincing you he’d truly become conservative politically. And yet, when he begins a closer that taunts comedians who use their stage time to sell merch, he also weaves his father’s death into the joke, eliciting nervous giggles from the audience for several moments, until even they catch on that—hold on a moment—Scovel has gotten very sincere.
And yet, there’s always going to be another rug pull.
As Scovel concedes once more, “I wanted to do that punchline. It’s more of a disease than anything.”
Our Call: STREAM IT. Many comedians get accused by their friends and family of being “always on.” Scovel certainly jokes as if he falls into that stereotype and acts the part onstage, but you also get the sense that he actually drops the act offstage. Or do you? Would it matter if you knew the real answer?
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.
