I’ve tried to keep these posts generally positive. Most writers have enough anxiety, and you don’t need mine piled on top. But today I’ve got a grumpy post about the sketches that bore me. I’ve read roughly a kabillion sketches,1 and found that certain games and constructions appear over and over. I’m sick of ‘em! And if you haven’t read as many sketches as I have you might not realize how overdone these ideas are.
Ironically, I generally dislike comedians shitting on other people’s comedy. The complainers often sound condescending and defensive, and they’re frequently guilty of the very thing they’re complaining about! Case in point: I’ve certainly written some of the sketches on this list. It’s part of the reason I hate them so much!
I need to stress, like everything else in this newsletter, that these aren’t immutable laws. These are just my personal opinions and everything I say should be taken with a huge, boulder-sized grain of salt. And with that even-handed disclaimer, I hope I never see the following sketches ever again:
X as Drugs
“You ever notice how people are obsessing over [INSERT LATEST FAD HERE]? You might even say they’re… addicted. Like a drug addict. And yet [INSERT LATEST FAD HERE] has none of the dark connotations of drug abuse. What would happen if we treated [INSERT LATEST FAD HERE] as if it were drugs?”
I’ll tell you what will happen: you’ll write the same sketch hundreds before you have written. The beats are always the same: the addict is obsessed. Their life is falling apart, but they keep jonesing for a hit of that [INSERT FAD HERE]. They have an abusive dealer of [FAD] they owe money to. They have a beleaguered spouse who walks out on them, but they’re too far gone to notice. There’s probably a Requiem for a Dream reference.
The comedy comes from juxtaposing the darkness of the drug specifics with the frivolity of the fad. And that would work if you were the first person to write Pokemon as drugs, or fidget spinners as drugs, or fantasy football as drugs, or… you get it. If you write this sketch, you’re guaranteed a script utterly devoid of surprise.
The fad you’re writing about could be a good source for a sketch, but focus on something other than its addictive nature. Popular things are often addictive, but what makes this fad different? What else do you have to say about it?
The Support Group
Just as drugs provide a framework for addiction, the support group provides a high stakes dramatic framework for any mundane bad habit: a support group for not flossing, a support group for replying to tweets with bad jokes, a support group for buying useless DLC for video games. Anything you know to be a bad habit that nevertheless persists can slot right in. And, just like the drugs sketch, it’s boring as hell. Not only is the format overdone, but the structure itself is uninteresting: a group of people, sitting in a circle, speaking slowly in turn. You’re guaranteeing yourself five minutes of static staging and uninspired game moves.
Personal bad habits area a good place to look for comedy, but see if you can find a different framing device.
Just Two Things
The era of clickbait videos has encouraged a particularly annoying type of sketch. Some places have realized the importance of juxtaposition in sketch, but haven’t fully internalized that there should be a reason to contrast the two elements. This is not ironic juxtaposition; it’s just… two things. I had a friend who called these sketches the comedy blender. Just grab two things, turn on the machine, and— whirrrrrrrrrr — out comes CONTENT!
These content smoothies burbled up because two popular things crammed together attract twice as many clicks as one popular thing. They have titles like “If Lizzo Went to Hogwarts” or “The Super Bowl for Introverts.” They are hollow and pointless because there’s no insight to be gained by examining the two things side-by-side. And it’s especially frustrating because you need only the slightest justification to draw a connection. So do it! Make the connection between your two things clear. And if you don’t know what the connection is, find it. What made you want to combine these two things in the first place?
Bad X
A doctor… but bad. A dating app… but bad. A college tour guide but—get this— bad. This is a fairly common kind of sketch from new writers. The temptation of this kind of sketch makes some sense. A lot of sketches do feature incompetent professionals, buffoons, and stupid products. But in a good sketch these things are all bad in a specific way, for a specific reason. When something or someone is generically bad, it doesn’t seem like it’s commenting on anything, so there’s no surprising truth undergirding your sketch.
If you’ve written a “Bad X” sketch you can save it by getting more specific. Dig deeper. So you have a bad tour guide, but bad in what way? How are they bad, and why? A tour guide who’s bad because he’s trying to squeeze errands into the tour is more interesting than one who’s just bad at the job. Stronger specifics will also make it feel like your sketch has a point.
The Straw Man
You ever notice how people who disagree with you are fucking idiots? Of course you have! You’re brilliant! But this is a boring foundation for a comedy sketch. You’ve probably seen this sketch: a group of brilliant but normal people confront a character who disagrees with their (and your) particular political views. This character is an absolute moron, with no response to the others’ cogent arguments (which just so happen to be the political talking points of the day). The dolt crumbles under the weight of everyone’s correctness.
These sketches might make people nod in agreement or boil with rage, and they’ll certainly get clicks, but they probably won’t make anyone laugh. The people who agree with you will find the sketch truthful but not surprising, and the people who disagree will find it surprising but not truthful.
To me, the best political sketches completely eschew talking points, which, by their nature have been repeated a million times and aren’t surprising. Instead, search for the a new observation about a particular political reality. This is hard because it seems like every angle on every political story has been explored, but that shouldn’t stop you from trying. If you can’t find a new angle, look to how an issue affects you personally, and see where that leads you.
Obscure Celebrity is Here!
This one is so specific it’s weird that I’ve seen it so much. In this kind of sketch a real-world celebrity is doing… things. Often just normal things, like hanging out at a party, but sometimes they’ll have a specific obsession. These sketches are things like “Eagle Eye Cherry Is Our Waiter” or “Stephen Tobolowski Loves Chicken Wings” I truly don’t know why these are so common. Whatever it is, these sketches usually devolve into a list of references to the celebrity’s work. When they don’t, they try to wring laughs out of the celebrity doing something totally normal (which is only funny if you think celebrities are abnormal) or totally insane (which usually lacks any logical justification).
A celebrity merely existing is not unusual enough to be the basis of a sketch. A celebrity doing something unusual should have a reason for doing something unusual that highlights some deeper truth.
It’s All Fixable
I hope it’s clear that all these problems are fixable. Most of these sketch cliches are over-worn formats for good ideas, or underdeveloped ideas from good topics. So if you’ve got a sketch on this list, don’t throw it out. You might be able to make something more interesting with a little more exploration.
Give or take a berjillion.
Would actually love to see Stephan Tobolewsky eat chicken wings in real life
My takeaway is that my sketch about Jane Child, Richard Kind, and the ghost of Huey Long attending a support group for their TikTok parody mashup problem is probably in need of some workshopping