The Kevin Hart Roast Was Proof that Celebrity Roasts are Cooked

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The concept of mocking public figures dates back to ancient times, but the modern, structured celebrity roast originated as a way for entertainers to pay tribute to one another through insults. The Friars Club started roasting notable members of its showbiz fraternity in 1950 and kept it up for over 60 years; in 1973, Dean Martin started doing Friars-style roast segments on his weekly TV variety show, which led to a series of boozy specials that ran for ten years. The 21st-century roast was born in 2003, when roastmaster Jeff Garlin led a raunchy tribute to Denis Leary that became the most-watched show in Comedy Central history. The network began to produce many more roasts, of everyone from Joan Rivers to Larry the Cable Guy, then got out of the game in 2019, after an installment (hosted by future podcast millionaire Sean Hayes) that aimed the slings and arrows at Alec Baldwin.

Surprisingly, Comedy Central still exists, pumping out stand-up specials, reruns of The Office, and one of my least favorite genres, cartoons for adults. But the celebrity roast has migrated to Netflix, the fat-pocket big-dog streamer unafraid to pump millions into an age-old concept and execute it like a low-budget awards show taking place in a Kimpton Hotel ballroom. In 2021, they did the Jonas Brothers Family Roast, which I somehow managed to miss. The Roast of Tom Brady, which aired in 2024 and was hosted by Kevin Hart, was nominated for an Emmy and mostly featured jokes about him neglecting his family and his supermodel ex-wife Gisele allegedly cheating on him with her jiu-jitsu instructor. This got people talking—but the reaction pales in comparison to the chatter online after Sunday night’s live broadcast of The Roast of Kevin Hart.

I am still not sure exactly what the Netflix Is a Joke Festival is. But from my research, it feels like an SXSW-style takeover of several Los Angeles venues, with guys from Austin and Jelly Roll getting on stage to try to make people laugh. The only viral clip I saw was John Mulaney ranting on stage about RFK, which feels like low-hanging fruit, and after rewatching several times, also not the least bit funny. (Tim Dillon does the voice better.) The Roast of Kevin Hart was the main event, hosted by polarizing comedian Shane Gillis, and featured a real mish-mash of comedians, actors, and athletes on stage doing their worst. Pete Davidson, Sheryl Underwood, Katt Williams, Draymond Green, Tony Hinchliffe, Chelsea Handler, and Dwayne Johnson all took their shots, and some were very, very funny. The most noticeable recurring theme was the nastiness between Hinchcliffe, Handler, and Gillis, which clearly stemmed from opposing political beliefs. It didn’t feel like anyone was having fun or even cared about Hart. It felt like everyone came to collect a check and be as mean as possible to one another, a recipe that, for the viewer, has its ups and downs.

Even though society is completely divided and everyone is angry, we might be laughing more than ever. Thanks to the proliferation of meaningless memes, Druski skits, Hacks, and political figures so unserious you can’t help but laugh, we are living in a good time for chuckling; the source just isn’t limited to guys who have a “new hour” or a prime spot at “The Store.” The classic roasts are hilarious, in part because they featured people like Norm McDonald, who was a lot funnier than, uh, Tom Brady is. But they’re also better because back then, we knew less about celebrities and their personal lives. Nothing is shocking or surprising because we know too much, which encourages these chud edgelords with nicotine-pouch sponsorships to lean on hit-or-miss racist jokes. It’s rarely offensive to me, but it’s also rarely funny. The participants and Netflix win, but I don’t think the same can be said for the viewer.