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Celebrity roasts are often personal affairs with various personalities insulting each other viciously, usually through jokes that aren’t apparent to outsiders. They border on a class reunion coupled with a podcast. They’re not exactly “your mama so fat…” contests, but they’re close. Nevertheless, they enjoy enough appeal to continue to get airtime.
“The Roast of Kevin Hart” was no exception — until the unannounced special guests showed up. That’s when Hart’s roast took a turn for the better. Granted, much of the show, which approached three hours in length, was terrible. Usher started things off with an adequate diss track. Tom Brady appeared as Hart was talking trash about him. He had his moments. Then Shane Gillis, who phoned it in, offered very few moments that were genuinely entertaining. Jeff Ross, whose existence seems to revolve around appearing at roasts, was meh.
The ladies did set a higher bar. Regina Hall pretended to channel Hart’s mom and had her roast him from heaven. Sheryl Underwood got a standing ovation for a reason. Chelsea Handler, on the other hand, remained Chelsea Handler, reminding viewers of Krusty the Clown’s foray into George Carlin-style standup.
Once Katt Williams came out, though, Hart’s roast got legitimately entertaining. For those who don’t follow celebrity gossip, Hart and Williams had long-running beef, stretching back years. The two often auditioned for the same roles, with Hart winning out. Williams colorfully alleged that Hart was engaged in shady dealings to get those parts. (Specifically, he’s invoked the Illuminati on more than one occasion and suggested that people like Hart are part of it.)
He took his opportunity to dig into Hart and did not pull punches. He mocked his height, his career, and his need for the Rock to carry him along. He challenged Hart to spell “Jumanji.” He reveled in his opportunity to light up the target. It was an epic smackdown, and Hart laughed through every moment of it. Once Williams’ set was complete, Hart professed his admiration for the comedian and said he wanted “to extend an olive branch.” The two seemingly put the beef behind them.
After that, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson took the stage. His absence had been noted throughout the evening. When he appeared, in what Orson Welles would call a “star part,” he went savage. He also went way more R-rated than he is known for. If three hours is a bit much for you, start with Williams and enjoy the final 55 minutes to get the splendor of Williams, Johnson, and Hart’s own performance.
All this makes one wonder why the roasts have to go on for so long before getting to the truly entertaining moments. Sure, it’s fun for friends to get together and ruthlessly insult one another. It’s a sign of affection. And it is moderately interesting to see behind the scenes, to appreciate how such a disparate group is extremely tight-knit, bonded together by their chosen profession.
But just as it’s only moderately interesting, it’s also only moderately entertaining, which is odd given the amount of effort that goes into preparing for these events. It’s not just the people on stage putting in work; there are teams behind them. There are jokes that are tested and scrapped. That jokes are dropped is shocking, given what made it in. There were not one, but two Charlie Kirk jokes.
On the other hand, poor taste was the theme of the evening, and even if boundaries were crossed, it’s refreshing to see comedians actually pushing them. While there have been bright spots along the way — Anthony Jeselnik, Ryan Long, and Ricky Gervais being notable examples — we’re finally coming out of a period in which comedy was expected to avoid anyone saying, “That’s not funny.”
Lizzo appeared on stage with a troupe of little people. Her weight was mocked. That Hart’s dad was largely a drug-addicted absentee father was a recurring joke, one framed in more than slightly racist terms. Racism, sexism, the R-word, and fat shaming are back on the menu at long last.
And the result wasn’t division; it was healing, not just between Hart and Williams, but between performers and audiences. Comedy doesn’t exist to comfort us, but to make us uncomfortable, to expose truths that are in front of our eyes just waiting to be noticed. (There’s a reason that Shakespeare used the jesters as he did.) Would it have been better if we could’ve gotten there more quickly? Sure, but the important thing is that we did, for as the Rock said during his segment, he was there “because someone needs to chew up Kevin’s food and spit it into his mouth, like a baby bird.”
We as a society may not be baby birds, but sometimes we need the fools to chew up unpalatable truths and return them to us in digestible form. Viewed in that light, Hart’s roast was a success, though, again, if you’re pressed for time, use the fast-forward button as your mama bird. Hart may be short, but that’s no reason for his roast to run so long.
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Rich Cromwell is a writer living in Northwest Arkansas. He produces the Cookin’ Up a Story podcast. Follow him on X @rcromwell4.
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