The choice of Donald Trump really did a number on comedian Chelsea Handler. “It was momentous,” she said in a recent interview with The Hollywood Reporter. "It woke me up to how easy things were for me." Determined not to become "one of those people who stands by and says nothing," Handler underwent a massive, multi-year self-improvement project, which she showcased in three separate Netflix projects: the 2016 documentary series Chelsea Does, featuring hour-long episodes on topics like "marriage" and "racism"; her short-lived late-night talk show Chelsea; and the 2019 documentary, Hello, Privilege. It's Me, Chelsea, a cursory exploration of how white privilege operates in America.
For those who were watching, it was a lot to process, like catching up with a friend who recently got sober or started therapy. Handler seemed desperate to be taken seriously, to demonstrate her progress to the audience. This need to be seen as self-aware culminated in 2020's Evolution, Handler's HBO Max special that dealt with the kind of test comedy Hannah Gadsby and Neil Brennan are so good at. Unfortunately, the subtle and insightful style didn't play to Handler's strengths as a loud storyteller. It was another admirable but clumsy attempt at introspection.
Director: Jo Koy
Star: Chelsea Handler
Five years after her awakening, it was increasingly difficult to see a way forward for Handler. Could she be her both funny and self-aware? Doubts were arising, at least for me. In her new special, Revolution (available on Netflix December 27), the veteran comedian proves that she's found a way. She shows how far she's come by hitting and mocking herself, and she delivers the best stand-up performance of her career. Finally, the new and improved Chelsea Handler has arrived.
It is very difficult to successfully mock yourself, which is why many stand-ups, including an older version of Handler, prefer to mock others. But nothing wins over an audience like a comedian who can take a joke, and Handler has never been more charming than when she explains her feeble command of basic astronomy.
Dressed in a fancy black sweater, one hand resting casually in her pocket, Handler hilariously recounts how she assumed "when the sun went down, she reappeared as the moon," until she turned 40 and saw them. Appear. together in heaven during a trip to Africa. As Handler recounts, her ignorance alarmed her sister, who began yelling about the moon's role in the solar system, prompting the comedian to coldly respond, “Calm down. We are in the southern hemisphere. I don't even know what moon you're talking about. The story sends the audience into a frenzy, and they laugh along with Handler as she repeatedly takes aim at herself in a controlled, punctuated narrative style that oozes confidence.
Speaking of storytelling, Handler is still great at it. Throughout Revolution, she harnesses the power of detail to tell explosively funny anecdotes about a high school cheerleading tryout that turned into a diagnosis of scoliosis and a sleep disorder involving a drugged Handler, her dog Bernice (dressed with “a yellow negligee”). , and a bleeding nipple, I won't tell you whose. It should be noted that Handler's mascot material is by far the best part of Revolution. His 10-minute story about his adopted Bernese mountain dog, Gary, has everything a blockbuster needs: plot, tension, stakes, and multiple main characters, including a villain (Handler), a hero (his assistant Tanner), and an underdog.
Even in the longer parts of it, Handler refrains from rambling. Her discussion of not wanting children features a joke every few seconds, and upon learning from her doctor that she has the eggs of a 25-year-old, an excellent line: "I told her she could take my eggs and convert them". in a frittata as far as I'm concerned.
On his 2014 stand-up special Uganda Be Kidding Me, Handler took a much more caffeinated approach. She sped through the bits at a rapid pace, relaying details about her travels to the audience as if she'd just bumped into them on the way to an event she's late for. While that blistering cadence might have helped Handler sell her "keep it up, bitch" party girl comedy to E!, it also got in the way of a good punchline, which is built on the beat and the premise. above all. Handler finally slows down on Revolution. She uses the breaks to her advantage. "I've rescued nine dogs in my life," Handler says, before deliberately waiting for the audience to finish applauding, then matter-of-factly adding, "I've given back four dogs."
Even at her most agitated, like when she remembers her 23-year-old nephew, Jakey, offering to explain basketball to her, Handler keeps her cool. "You're in my mansion," Handler says, emphasizing the words "my" and "mansion." She does a similar trick when she reacts when her brother says that he had children because he was worried about her legacy. "What legacy?" she asks herself in a sarcastic and puzzled tone. "Your legacy is that you are my brother." Seeing a prosperous Handler confidently acknowledge her success in front of a variety of family members got me excited for my 40s.
To the detriment of the set, Handler abruptly switches modes midway through her performance, using a bizarre story about an encounter with an overconfident man in a captain's hat as a springboard to a manifesto on toxic masculinity. "As a society," she yells, as she struts across the stage, "you all owe us a fucking apology." It doesn't matter if she's right. The problem is scale. Her argument is too broad to be persuasive. Her point about how America's "real heroes" are her nurses, doctors, and her flight attendants also has no impact because she's too familiar.
Handler's observations about the world aren't nearly as insightful or funny as her observations about herself. Unlike the men she mocks in Revolution, Handler is smart about her own bullshit. One of her best jokes is about having to get up two hours early so she can "de-quantify" me, which reveals more about the differences between the sexes than all of Handler's tidy statements put together.
Revolution ends with an ode to Handler's partner and the special's director, comedian Jo Koy. There's no question that Koy deserves credit for helping Handler. The setting, the lights, the close-ups, and the darkened theater—everything is set up to make Handler stand out, and it's an effective strategy. But by discussing their relationship at such length and in such positive terms, Handler puts herself, her relationship, and the audience at risk. a difficult situation. She can't help but wonder if the couple is still together, and a career-defining special like Revolution should leave its audience with more to think about than the status of a couple's relationship.
Watch Chelsea Handler: Revolution 2022 Tv Show Trailer
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