Laughter: The Best Medicine?
So, the “slap flap” continues. You likely know what this term references: an ill-considered, if considered at all, “joke” by Chris Rock and an angry reaction by Will Smith that some now call “the slap heard round the world.” Rock remarked on Jada Pinkett Smith’s lack of hair by referring to a “GI Jane” sequel. Rock’s inconsiderate comment on Smith’s baldness offended many besides her husband, not the least of whom is New York Times reporter Farah Fleurima, who noted how “Black women’s hair has been the object of scrutiny, derision, and ridicule in American society since it’s been growing out of our heads.” What’s worse is that Rock knows this. When one of his kids came to him and asked, “Daddy, how come I don’t have good hair?” he made a documentary about Black hair culture with his daughters in mind.
That huge faux pas aside, Rock’s jibe at Jada Pinkett Smith continues the long tradition of the Oscar Awards hosts lampooning celebrity “targets of opportunity,” a practice that seems to have grown increasingly cruel over the years. These “jokes” likely began with Bob Hope, who hosted the Oscars 19 times.
My somewhat diminished memory recalls Hope making mostly innocuous, self-deprecating jokes about his not being nominated, again, for an award. But his remarks could be cutting, too. In 1971, he uttered this slam about Chief Dan George, a Native American actor nominated that year for Best Supporting Actor in Little Big Man: “Chief Dan George — he was all right, but why couldn’t they have given that part to an American?” Had George’s spouse or partner been present, one can imagine Bob getting “Rock slapped” and deservedly so.
I’ve always wondered about the “humor” behind “roasting” people. It may seem funny to some on the surface, but the potential for psychological damage from the attendant embarrassment and shame outweighs any laughs it might produce. I’m convinced, without any evidence except for Donald Trump being Donald Trump, that Trump decided to run for president after (or while) being utterly humiliated by Barak Obama at a White House Press Corps dinner. He certainly got and is still getting his revenge.
A “roast,” according to that know-it-all Wikipedia, “is a form of humor in which a specific individual, usually a guest of honor, is subjected to jokes at their expense, intended to amuse the event’s wider audience.” Making fun of other people “at their expense” probably goes back to prehistoric times. I can imagine the Cro-Magnons and Neanderthals commenting at “dinner” on the paltry size of each other’s “bones” when they could have said something harmless like, “Hey, have I got a bone to pick with you.” Most roast humor, also called “insult comedy,” that I’ve witnessed on the Oscars or elsewhere is personal and often tasteless. Ted Danson infamously donned blackface and said the word “nigger” over a dozen times while roasting Whoopi Goldberg, who he was then dating.
Some award-show hosts have attempted to turn the traditional roast humor on the events and participants themselves. Ricky Gervais, for example, opened the 2020 Golden Globes by spending eight minutes “criticizing various aspects of Hollywood, bringing in issues of racism, the Epstein scandal, and finishing the speech with a jab at every ‘woke” celebrity that tries to lecture the world as they’re receiving awards.” Here’s a taste:
No one cares about movies anymore, no one goes to the cinema, no one really watches network TV. Everyone’s watching Netflix. This show should just be me coming out, going, “Well done, Netflix. You win everything. Goodnight,” but no. No, we’ve got a drag it out for three hours. You could binge watch the entire first season of After Life instead of watching this show. That’s a show about a man who wants to kill himself because his wife dies of cancer, and it’s still more fun than this, okay? Spoiler alert, season two is on the way so in the end he obviously didn’t kill himself, just like Jeffrey Epstein. Shut up. I know he’s your friend, but I don’t care. You had to make your own way here in your own plane, didn’t you?
Reader’s Digest has told us for decades that “laughter is the best medicine.” Apparently, it still is. Psychology Today says that “laughter reduces pain, increases job performance [what?], connects people emotionally, and improves the flow of oxygen to the heart and brain.” Will Smith and Chris Rock connected emotionally and physically and probably experienced greater oxygen flow at the slap moment. Not precisely what RD and PT had in mind. I guess for those effects to happen in a positive way we need to stick to jokes of the “grasshopper walks into a bar” variety. Sounds boring, doesn’t it? Fortunately, we can still have black humor without assaulting real people. I’ll leave you with this “walks into a bar” example from, ironically perhaps, Reader’s Digest:
A man walks into a rooftop bar and takes a seat next to another guy. “What are you drinking?” he asks the guy.
“Magic beer,” he says.
“Oh, yeah? What’s so magical about it?”
Then he shows him: He swigs some beer, dives off the roof, flies around the building, then finally returns to his seat with a triumphant smile.
“Amazing!” the man says. “Lemme try some of that!” The man grabs the beer. He downs it, leaps off the roof — and plummets 15 stories to the ground.
The bartender shakes his head. “You know, you’re a real jerk when you’re drunk, Superman.”
