Marc Maron’s New Special Generates Laughs in the Most Depressing Way Possible
I like me some Marc Maron, but man. Before you sit down after an exhausting day’s work to watch his latest comedy special, Panicked (premiering August 1st on HBO), understand what you’re in for: An evening of liberals annoying America into fascism, the terrifying destruction of the California wildfires, an elderly parent suffering dementia, Maron’s it-almost-happened sexual abuse at the hands of a childhood babysitter, and, of course, Hitler.
Then again, would you expect anything less?
World-weary despair is Maron’s comedy brand, whether in stand-up specials or on his legendary WTF podcast run. “I never got into this for entertaining,” he says at one point during Panicked, a sardonic line that’s both hilarious and on point. You can almost feel Maron pulling his audience in two opposite directions — bleak subject matter dragging the viewer into emotional quicksand and clever punchlines offering a lifeline back out.
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Maron is charming and self-deprecating enough to make it work most of the time. He knows he’s gloomy, poking fun at his own fixation with the California fires as “lighthearted fun.” There are laughs to be had in Maron’s tale of escaping a threatening blaze while wrestling multiple cats into his car (Maron overreacted, and none of his neighbors thought to flee), but his trials are downright harrowing all the same.
When Maron recently guested on the Conan O’Brien Needs A Friend podcast, Conan had an astute observation about Maron’s several appearances on his old talk show. “The crowd doesn’t know who you are. You’d sit down and — it was fascinating to me — you would dig a hole. Marc Maron would dig a hole. The crowd started out neutral, then you would dig a hole where they’re like, ‘I don’t like this.’”
It got worse, Conan observed. “You would comment on how you dug a hole,” he said. “The classic rule is never tell people this isn’t working. Freddy Roman once said to me, ‘Never admit you’re bombing.’ And you were out there talking on my panel: ‘This isn’t working. I shouldn’t have come. I don’t know why I’m here.’”
The saving grace? As Maron hit bottom, Conan would hear the audience’s laughter begin to build. “You would dig yourself into a hole and then shoot out of it like this geyser.”
Maron’s still digging that hole. That’s why I found it so challenging to sit through Panicked without feeling a little anxious myself. Existential pain can be contagious, and while Maron’s savvy jokes keep utter depression at bay, the comedy won’t make you forget about your own troubles like, say, Nate Bargatze figuring out how to work the washing machine.
That’s not an endorsement of one comic’s style over the other — I’m more likely to list Maron as a favorite than Bargatze — but it’s an honest assessment of the angst I felt after this particular hour of melancholic misery. I’m still waiting for Maron’s comedy geyser to take me to a better place.
