Like many other professions around the world, the world of stand-up comedy took a hard hit during the COVID-19 pandemic, as comedians couldn't perform in front of live audiences. Some tried doing shows over Zoom because, well, they had bills to pay, but that approach wasn't very successful. And the rest simply waited until comedy clubs and arenas reopened to the public. However, when they returned to the stage, there seemed to be a disconnect between how they had experienced the pandemic and how their audiences had experienced it.
This affected their ability to connect with the audience, and it was one of the main reasons I stayed away from this type of entertainment for a long time. When I decided to start watching stand-up comedy specials again, I thought I should start with one of the most experienced comedians in the business: Ricky Gervais. Yeah, Mortality was absolutely boring. Then I switched gears and tried some new blood; Marcello Hernandez's American Boy was extremely irritating. Popular things like Tony Hinchcliffe's Once Upon a Time in Texas and Mike Epps' Delusional were quite unpleasant.
Director: Chris Howe
Stars: Mo Gilligan
Directed by Chris Howe, Mo Gilligan begins his stand-up special, In the Moment, by talking about his trip to the land of his ancestors and the strange culture shock he experienced, as he and his family belong to the same lineage but have been shaped by very different experiences. The way Gilligan turned his great-grandmother's panicked stuttering while trying to remember her age into a musical rhythm was hilarious. He went on to recount his peculiar journey through Hollywood, talking about what he witnessed at an American airport, which was undoubtedly exaggerated but funny. And once he started telling the story of what happened when he finally arrived in California, it was pure chaos.
I mean, the way the story unfolded, from the coffin full of champagne bottles to the resolution where his friends bought him some snacks as compensation for everything he had done, was brilliant. I won't reveal the details of the bit, because you have to hear him tell it; writing about it wouldn't do it justice. By the way, the use of the stadium—the lights going out and the hooded figure in the corner—was truly masterful. Even if you're watching it on the small screen, you'll be blown away by that moment.
Given how good the entire "Dushane" segment was, Gilligan's observations on romance, femininity, and masculinity come across as a bit bland. But I did appreciate him explicitly addressing the fact that men abide by the "bro code" until they have to show vulnerability, while women tend to support each other, especially when one feels vulnerable, regardless of whether they belong to the same friend group. It's a timely reminder that it's 2026, and men can't keep expressing their feelings through alcohol and violence; they need to find a way to help each other.
If they don't, they'll continue complaining about the male loneliness epidemic and wondering how it's going to be solved. However, Gilligan followed up that very sensible advice with his segment about the "male loneliness epidemic starter kit," which ruined the mood. By now, I've come to accept that every male comedian is obligated, by contract or conviction, to include a misogynistic segment in their special. They would probably wither and die if they didn't make fun of women a little bit right after lamenting how much they need them.
All that being said, Mo Gilligan closed In the Moment with a bang, with a full musical and dance performance centered around Rastafarian-themed fairy tales. I'll be honest: I would listen to that album even though I'm clearly not the target audience. At the same time, and this has nothing to do with Gilligan's show, that segment made me wonder why we don't hear new fairy tales. Why are we still talking about Little Red Riding Hood, the Gingerbread Man, Goldilocks, and Jack and the Beanstalk? You could argue that comic books are the modern-day fairy tales. But are they really? Because comics have been around since we were born.
So replacing one established narrative genre with another doesn't seem entirely right to me. Is there a specific reason why artists stopped writing new fairy tales? Or, if they are writing them, why don't they achieve worldwide fame like the works mentioned? Is there some kind of Illuminati-style conspiracy to stifle our imagination, or is it simply a sign of the times that children are no longer passionate about literature? I think this deserves an in-depth analysis, and I thank Mo Gilligan and his Rastafarian-inspired fairy tales for inspiring me to think about this.
In case it wasn't clear, let me state it as plainly as possible: of all the recently released Netflix comedy specials, Mo Gilligan: In the Moment is the first one I actually enjoyed. I felt that the other comedians didn't entertain me because their stories didn't resonate with me. I've never experienced a night comparable to the one Gilligan and his friends had. Yet, I was completely immersed in his story thanks to his storytelling.
The pacing with which he introduced each new piece of information, the level of detail in describing the people and the atmosphere Gilligan witnessed, his cadence (the accent switching was phenomenal, by the way), the lighting, the music, and the editing—everything came together in a truly satisfying way and transported me to that day he visited Hollywood. He managed to strike the perfect balance between making his narratives personal and, at the same time, universal. I don't think this is due to experience, as I've seen legendary comedians fail at this. I don't know if it depends on one's background, as I've seen down-to-earth comedians stumble when trying to be captivating. Anyway, whatever it is, "Dushane" has it, and everyone should watch his work and learn from him.
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