We need to learn to laugh at our own tragic moments

Comedy is the hardest of the arts to master, but it is also the most healthy art form for both audience and actor to partake in. Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and you cry alone. Many of us I fear, deep down, are crying alone in secret.

The easiest kind of comedy is that which pokes fun of others, public figures or particular stereotypes. Exaggeration here is key, whether in appearance or mannerisms. This is the most prevalent type of comedy in Lebanon. The toughest kind of comedy is also the most human kind, the one that derives a comic moment from the everyday, the mundane and the tragic, especially the tragic flaws in us all. This type of comedy requires a comic artist to hone his or her craft to a very high degree and to give of themselves generously and suppress their own egos and even sacrifice those egos on the Alter of the comic moment. I doubt that the Lebanese, who are essentially all about ego, can do that.

The greatest comics have suffered greatly for their craft. In Lebanon today, on all TV screens, we have a plethora of political satire programs that use exaggeration of stereotypes and imitation of public figures performed in a clownish manner to get their laughs. Often there is meanness in the delivery that reflects a latent hostility, other than the blatant political slant of each of these programs depending on which TV station they air on. This form of comedy is an inferior art form of that there is no doubt.

In the everyday living of life we see potential comic moments that border on the tragic, at the heart of that moment is a tragic figure who’s flaws make him/her the object of ridicule and self hate. Each of us, whether we like it or not, possess aspects of that tragic figure that make us act and react in certain ways. Often we think we are doing something in a certain unorthodox or unnecessarily convoluted manner to gain an advantage of sorts but the result is often the proverbial backfire and a face full of soot! That is a comic moment, which, while we are in it, we do not recognize as at all funny, except it is. It’s funny because we all recognize elements of our own tragic selves in that particular sketch or snapshot of life.

The comic genius John Cleese in his greatest comic role as Basil Fawlty comes to mind here. In fact, I would say that we are all Basil Fawlty, not in the sense that we all run a run down old hotel in Torquay, but in our own lives, in certain circumstances at least, we do take on the persona of that brusque, ill tempered, unlucky hotelier. In every day driving, I see the competitive Lebanese trying to win an advantage through dangerous overtaking maneuvers only to suffer a series of unlucky setbacks and find themselves several car lengths behind the cars they so diligently and stubbornly jostled to overtake in the first place.

In my short time in Lebanon I have found that the Lebanese are very sensitive to criticism and seem incapable of laughing at themselves, and tend to take offense at anyone trying to show them the lighter side of a funny moment that involves them as the central character. It's not hard to understand why that is, after all we are pointing out a failure, in their eyes a very bitter defeat, which uncovers certain flaws in behaviour or in their own tragic character. But, in comedy, on the stage or on the tube, it is these every day moments and tragic flaws that allow us at the end of the day to unplug and sit back and just laugh, even while knowing we are laughing at a character that is in many ways similar to ourselves, an everyday man (or woman)!

It is very unfortunate that the Lebanese find it hard to laugh at themselves; it shows a very fragile sense of self and deep feelings of inferiority that are often covered up by building up an external image of success and vitality. This false image is made up of the clothes we wear, the cars we drive, the expensive branded accessories we adorn ourselves with, wristwatches and cigars, for example. We resort to plastic surgery and dieting, altering our demeanor to fit a certain mold, often that of exaggerated self-confidence. I could be wrong, and I’m sure there are plenty of people out there who look like Adonises and have perfect teeth and pecks and drive expensive cars but do not use them to cover up any underlying feelings of inferiority. However, the vast majority, who are incapable of expressing their true feelings and fears due to their upbringing and social pressure, i.e. expectations of what a man should be and what a woman should be, for them, this façade is a way to avoid delving too deeply into their own psyche lest that façade of perfection shatter and their true self is then revealed to all, thus opening themselves up to ridicule and humiliation, or so they think. What this boils down to is an inability to laugh at their own tragic moments, their own flawed selves, which is deeply unhealthy.