Don't Be Fooled By How Similar Jenny Slate And Gary Gulman's Comedy Specials Are

Actress and comedian Jenny Slate's first-ever stand-up special, Stage Fright, is now available to stream on Netflix. And when you watch it today, tonight or later this week, a thought is going to occur (if it hasn't already occurred) to you: "Isn't this just like Gary Gulman's HBO special The Great Depresh from earlier this month?"

It's okay to have this thought. After all, both Stage Fright and The Great Depresh are constructed and presented as a mixture of traditional stand-up comedy (performer standing on a stage with a microphone, speaking with a seated audience) and documentary (interviews, establishing shots and voice-overs edited to follow a certain narrative path). For this reason, many have referred to Gulman's hour as a "docu-comedy" and other similar terms. And, in all likelihood, critics and audiences will be doing the same exact thing to describe Slate's special.

Many already have. When the trailer for Stage Fright went live a few weeks ago, just about everyone who covered it made the same comparison.

The thing is, while these comparisons and descriptions are quite apt, they're also not enough. They gloss over many of the peculiarities that make Gulman's special special and Slate's hour unique. A lot has already been said about the former by numerous writers at various outlets, so I want to focus on the latter instead. Not only because Stage Fright debuts today, but because it's just as deserving of the attention that The Great Depresh garnered - though for different reasons.

"In case you're like, 'What weird, late-in-life bat mitzvah did I stumble into?'" Slate prompts the audience early on, "This is a performance."

By this point, Stage Fright viewers have already witnessed a mix of Slate's performance at New York's Gramercy Theatre, brief previews of the documentary interviews with her family members, and home movies. There is still nearly a full hour of special to go, so most will probably (and rightfully) assume that this is what the show is going to be. They will already know that Stage Fright is nothing like the recent, more traditional stand-up specials from comics Nikki Glaser and Bill Burr.

This is why the true significance of Slate's declaring "this is a performance" around the 14-minute mark will likely be missed by most. She isn't just talking about that very moment on stage, but the whole of what Stage Fright consists of. The comedy and the documentary footage and the private home videos and other inserts in the special's front and back matter. She got her start in improv comedy while attending Columbia University, after all. This is the kind of pastiche work Slate excels at, and what a fast, kaleidoscopic experience it is.

The bulk of her past catalog consists of film and television roles, voice-acting work, and enjoyable appearances on late night talk show and comedy programs. It's a wide swathe, to be sure, but it's in these blended improvisational and scripted comedy bits the Slate shines her brightest. So, in the case of Stage Fright, she simply took those models and applied them equally to the annals of stand-up comedy and documentary in a manner that is both familiar to most and unique to her.

Whereas Gulman's The Great Depresh - directed by documentary filmmaker Michael Bonfiglio, who also directed Jerry Seinfeld's "docu-comedy" special Jerry Before Seinfeld in 2017 - takes great care to intertwine longer stand-up portions with concise documentary moments, Stage Fright appears more haphazard. Sometimes, Slate's onstage performance blends beautifully with the non-comedy footage director Gillian Robespierre has selected. Otherwise, it feels like abrupt breaks in the special's thematic development have arisen, as one subject is completely forgotten in favor of another.

But that is not what is happening at all. Instead, Slate and Robespierre (who previously directed the actress in Obvious Child and Landline) are creating a series of falsely disparate vignettes. They seem vastly different but, structurally speaking, they perfectly mirror the onstage performance's frantic demeanor. Slate frequently swings between slow, subtle bits and explosive punchlines - like when, in one of Stage Fright 's funniest moments, she starts out talking about her family's haunted house and completes the story with the dueling screams of herself and her parents.

The result? A wonderfully refreshing comedy special that, considering this month's output across several major platforms, is equally enjoyable for its singularity as it is its content. Fans of more traditional stand-up fare, which Gulman's The Great Depresh sticks closer to, might not take to what Slate is doing here. But that should not stop them, nor anyone else for that matter, from tuning in and giving the hour a chance.

Jenny Slate: Stage Fright is now streaming on Netflix.