Jon Stewart’s third appearance in the anchor’s chair since returning to "The Daily Show" opened with the seated host basking in a standing ovation from his stoked studio audience. Citing the controversies and “carping” triggered by his first two episodes, he promised that Monday's performance would offer something different —“an amuse-bouche, a trifle, something light.” That relaxing change of pace would be a discussion of, naturally, Israel/Palestine.
The first two episodes of the show have drawn a wide range of media responses. Some, such as NPR, The Washington Post and The New York Times, feted him as a conquering hero. Other outlets, such as the Hollywood Reporter, Variety and Vox, thought the program ranged from OK to meh.
Audiences — and even comedians themselves — risk forgetting that their news reader is neither a credentialed journalist nor a scholar, but a person whose core competency is genital gags.
Slate, by contrast, parsed the beloved comedian’s performance as “the same s--- all over again.” Along with Mary Trump, Keith Olberman and The Onion, it lambasted Stewart for his “bothsidesism” in the first episode in which President Joe Biden was ridiculed, rather unoriginally, for being old. Stewart’s gestures toward evenhandedness were certainly evident in Monday's episode, as were the inherent intellectual, and even ethical, deficiencies of what is known as “politainment.”
This popular genre, of which Stewart is a master, blends comedy and political analysis, all the while smuggling in whatever moral convictions the comic might possess. Politainment looks like real news. Its graphics are so eye-popping, its chyrons so abundant, its shiny sets so CNN-like, one expects Wolf Blitzer to pop in, projecting a winner in the Michigan primary.
Politainment radiates a weird sort of winking authority, and even moral gravitas. Audiences — and even comedians themselves — risk forgetting that their news reader is neither a credentialed journalist nor a scholar, but a person whose core competency is genital gags.
Stewart tried to maintain a semblance of ideological balance, as a newsperson would. But in a conflict this raw, complex and emotionally charged, he likely satisfied very few. Recapping the failures of the United States, the United Nations, Saudi Arabia and Christianity to do anything to stop the carnage in Gaza, the comedian served up some good jokes. The U.S. was described as Israel’s “work-emergency contact.” The U.N. was likened to “a support system for a diverse and pleasing food court.” Saudi Arabia was lit up for giving Palestinians the same amount of financial aid it lavished upon golfer Phil Mickelson.
Which is to say, the episode stayed true to the anodyne “impartiality” that critics complained about in Episode 1. The problem is not Stewart’s commitment to objectivity nor his sincere goodwill as an observer of human events, but the inherent limits of the politainment genre, and maybe even comedy itself, to make sense of tragedy.
Some things just aren’t funny. And in many cases, jokes cannot serve as vessels of enlightenment and understanding.
Yet, that is exactly what Stewart attempted to do Monday night. The program half-heartedly presented an action plan to resolve the conflict, referred to by the acronym METO (Middle East Treaty Organization). “Let’s get this region Metooed,” Stewart joked, invoking the hashtag that drew global awareness to rape and sexual assault in 2017. Later, his guests, two American journalists on different sides of the issue who appear to have developed some sort of friendship, were warmly applauded by the audience.
One of politainment’s irritating character flaws: its tendency to celebrate itself, defend itself and be about itself — as we watch the world burn.
This points to one of politainment’s irritating character flaws: its tendency to celebrate itself, defend itself and be about itself — as we watch the world burn. Stewart spent some time in Episode 2 responding to the backlash of Episode 1. He lined up critics of his Biden bit (by name) and proceeded to enfilade them. “I guess as the famous saying goes,” he deadpanned, “‘Democracy dies in discussion.’” The self-professed “Captain of this dying medium” intoned: “I’m sorry. It was never my intention to say out loud what I saw with my eyes and then brain.”
My concerns with this perishing (?) medium aren’t identical to, let’s say, Bo Burnham’s insight that comedy cannot heal the world (though I think he is certainly correct about that ). My point is that 30 minutes of gags cross-pollinated with self-absorption cannot necessarily elucidate an issue as dreadful, dense and complicated as the Israel/Palestine conflict. At their best, that’s what journalists and scholars try to do in our humorless vocations. And we often fail miserably.
The show ended with an emotional, teary-eyed Stewart mourning the death of his dog Dipper. Given the material that preceded it, the Dipper retrospective made for one jarringly strange tonal contrast, both addressing the loss of life. Then again, the segment worked because it was authentic. It intuitively grasped a truth that the show’s Israel/Palestine content failed to recognize: Some things just aren’t funny and gags might not impart wisdom.