Barry Crimmins: Threatening Power With Decency

Comedy has a longstanding tradition of spinning tragedy into laughter. Dealing with sensitive subjects that split your audience into one of two camps, though: people you’ve offended, and people you haven’t offended yet. No one knows that better than stand-up veteran Barry Crimmins, whose first special Whatever Threatens You is a love letter to that very tradition.
For a political satirist like Crimmins, there couldn’t have been a better time to drop a special than the current political shitstorm the world has found itself in. It might be safe to assume that Crimmins finally released a special after decades in stand-up because he felt the same itch we all have when our high school lab partner writes “Crooked Hillary” on Facebook. But when asked why he finally took the plunge, Crimmins had a more simplistic answer. “Someone really capable asked me to,” he says, referring to Louis CK, who directed the special and is distributing it through his website.
Crimmins has been a hermit shuffling through the comedy world for forty-four years, remaining widely unknown to the general public while building a legendary reputation among his fellow comics. His act is more than throwing comedic glitter on hardship—it’s brilliant leftist political commentary at its best, and merely downright hilarious at its worst. That’s something that doesn’t seem out of place now, given that our market eats it up, with Daily Show alums like Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert and John Oliver mainstreaming political satire over the last 17 years. However, when Crimmins was coming up the same couldn’t be said.
“You become a left-wing political satirist during the Reagan years it’s like an economic bonanza you are walking into,” Crimmins jokes in Whatever Threatens You. So what if Crimmins was entering the comedy game now, instead of back then?
“I think if they would have let me at the audience I would have done fine,” Crimmins said. “I think [Colbert and Stewart] became at least slightly more radical as they were doing it. They just knew in advance that I was [radical]. I lost stuff with it. But it’s fine.”
Crimmins holds no contempt for anyone or longing for what could have been. “I really like those guys,” he says. He also sings the praises of John Oliver and Samantha Bee.
Samantha Bee is a prime example of women who are breaking the glass ceiling in the comedy world, but Crimmins has been back on the road recently and has been able to see firsthand how far the comedy world has actually shifted from its “boys’ club” roots. “I think it’s getting better,” Crimmins says. “[But] I think there are still a lot of jamokes out there doing the boys’ club stuff. “
When you first watch the Swiftian Crimmins he can come off as polarizing, like there’s nothing off-limits or too offensive for him to bring up. But when more closely examined, it quickly grows obvious that his act is deeply rooted in advocacy for the little guy against the big guy. He punches up, never down. “So long as the targets aren’t small. So long as it’s not turning the crowd into a lynch mob for some cab driver or person who works at a convenience store or someone’s spouse they are denigrating,” Crimmins says about his approach to satire.