Channel Surfing: "Roast of James Franco"

James Franco
Welcome to a new column called Channel Surfing, in which I sporadically look at current TV shows and talk about them. These are not ones that I care to write weekly recaps for and are instead reflections either on the episode, the series, or particular moments. This will hopefully help to share personal opinions as well as discover entertainment on the outer pantheon that I feel is well worth checking out, or in some cases, shows that are weird enough to talk about, but should never be seen.

My general thoughts on roasts nowadays stems back to the time that Comedy Central presented a special jabbing at Flavor Flav. At the time, he was coming off of the Surreal Life and was more of a joke than anyone nowadays would give him credit for. The show was kind of a depressing look into what felt like a barrage of repetitive insults on a man whose glory days were behind him. In a way, it got me to realize that Comedy Central Roasts were all like this. I never saw any of the other ones simply because they all seemed way too easy of targets. 
Somehow, it almost seemed like a noble effort for them to tackle James Franco, whose multi-hyphenated persona has been mocked more than it has been celebrated. It was a central theme in this summer's This is the End. However, I figured with a cast of familiar faces and the host being Seth Rogen, that there would be a level of camaraderie that was missing from the other ones that felt hostile. At very least, This is the End felt like a good precursor because it reflected just how close many of the people performing that night were and how far they were willing to just take jabs at each other.
The final product is what makes me essentially look back at roasts of the past and realize that there's something about the tradition that hasn't aged well. Even then, it could just be this particular incarnation as hosted by Comedy Central. Sure, it is always great to allow modern comics to showcase their skills, but it feels more like a gimmick to cash in on things that the Friar's Club had been doing for decades. As I will explore later, the problem is probably that there's nothing special about making it into a special.
From the opening montage to the introduction of Franco, the night was already set to lampoon a man who has done close to everything. Unlike people like Flavor Flav who are ridiculous figures because of their lack of careers, Franco should have been an easy walk to anyone who even searched his Wikipedia page. My enthusiasm lied mostly in that because he was a risk taker to the most extreme degree, that having the people that knew him best would make for some warm and fuzzy insults.

Andy Samberg
The other issue with roasts is that it varies performer to performer.  Most of these people admittedly haven't been on the circuit of hazing other people, so there was a particular roughness. Choosing to start with Nick Kroll was an odd choice, if just because the absurd, low brow wit that he brings to most of his work seemed almost centered around Jewish culture in Hollywood simply because of the cast. As he went down the line of performers, the night was already setting up the dominoes for the rest of the show. 
The other issue with roasts is that even if the title deliberately claims that it is "of James Franco," it doesn't mean just "of James Franco." Everyone gets their moment to insult random performers, whether it be Jonah Hill's obesity or Aziz Ansari's heritage. I know that there's problems filling a show like this to be over an hour long, but after awhile, everyone paled in comparison to James Franco's aloofness simply because their credits weren't interesting enough to pander to. It got to the point where every new performer didn't bring anything new beyond the idea that they were defending their honor and just rehashing an alternative take on the explicit racism and hatred that the jokes were filled with.
It wasn't a total waste, as many of the jokes landed. Bill Hader did an exceptionally classic thing of performing as a character in which he hazed Franco as the head of Hollywood:


It added a meta texture to the humor and most of all allowed the jokes to work not from an almost too personal level. It was almost a look at Franco's career from the grand perspective. Even Andy Samberg's bizarre failure of a set in which he changed each insult into a gay joke added variety to a night that seemed fine with calling Franco a stoned bisexual who was also in Oz: The Great and Powerful. To clarify, this is a thesis statement of what most comedians said during their stint.
I know that roasts are supposed to be edgy and poke fun at their hosts. It is subversion like this that makes the comedy more golden. However, with a mix of repetition and length, I don't understand why these still exist. Most of these performers are actually really funny, yet this plays like a subpar special feature on a This is the End DVD. While it is fun to see people you admire having fun, there wasn't much to justify it being as long as it was.
But if it wasn't close to an hour and 40 minutes (including commercials) in its broadcast, what would make it a special? For starters, it isn't so much the edginess that I have problems with, but more the inevitable sense that the performances go on and on. There's no sense of editing and it doesn't feel special as a result. Had it been cut down to an hour-long program focusing on Franco, it would have been stronger. Hearing Franco referred to as a stoned bisexual who was in Oz: The Great and Powerful and bombed at the Oscars gets old and almost makes this feel more dated than the Harlem Shake.
I would imagine that a simple way to improve things is to cut it down. While this is annually compared to what I'm about to say, the notion still holds that it is better to leave you wanting more than to actually say the millionth gay joke. There's no honor in being the millionth gay joke at a roast.
Instead, consider editing down to a slimmer run time in the vein of Dean Martin Celebrity Roast. While considerably tame by today's standards, there is something enduring about them. It wasn't just gay jokes and being obscene. It was also about personalities such as Foster Brooks getting up and just making himself the butt of jokes as well as the host. Sure, they insulted careers of almost everyone, but there was a class to it. While Franco seems like a classy guy, there was nothing interesting or classy about the finished Comedy Central product.

Left to right: Samberg, Sarah Silverman, and Franco
I will admit to not being an expert on this subgenre of comedy, but it still warrants consideration. Like a boring school lecture, there is a moment where you eventually just tune out and pick up the pieces because of a few buzz words. While performers like Hader and Ansari succeeded in getting a few inspired one-liners and Franco ended on an amazingly surreal moment, the night felt like a waste largely because these top notch performers couldn't come up with something beyond stoned bisexual who couldn't open his eyes. This is a shame, as the everything man shouldn't be that hard to pin.
My proposal for what would make these shows better is not so much to get better comedians. I actually found enough funny to make this less regrettable than the Flavor Flav one. I am thinking that what needs to be practiced is a stronger sense of restraint and to make it feel special by not just being a barrage of insults about easy targets. Humor is subjective and while it is impossible to make insult humor feel less hostile without succeeding, there is a sense that the blueprint was laid out by the Friar's Club, and nobody has quite figured out how to do it right.
When people get up to perform, there isn't a sense of performer. There are just the jokes meant to lambaste. Maybe it is a sign of the times that humor goes to the basic targets. Maybe times have just gotten more sensitive, but even in regards to what is said, there is enough moments here to fill a whole hour of solid material. The further away from that mark that you get, the more that you begin looking at the clock and waiting for the next person so that it could end sooner. Also, it does seem a little much to keep making the jokes and panning to Franco laughing at everything. It almost punctures everything a little.
I didn't hate the Comedy Central Roast, but I feel like it isn't going to sell me to come back. Even when Rogen can't muster up enough material to insult him over their 14+ years as friends shows just how doomed things are for the rest of the night. I know it seems easy to justify what makes a special feel... special, but this has been promoted as a great event and one of the pinnacle annual moments in Comedy Central's line-up. I just wish that they cared enough to make it feel more like it was. 

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