“Like a grown up, I handled the situation,” says Ari Shaffir, proudly, as he describes how he was forced to throw away his underwear after he shit his pants in the middle of a date.
Shaffir’s comedic chops have long rested on the irreverent, the taboo, and the downright offensive since his start in comedy. He first gained notoriety when his video series “The Amazing Racist” was uploaded onto Youtube by fans. Originally created for a National Lampoon DVD, his series of hidden camera shorts became known both for their unabashed racism and their undeniable hilarity.
Originally raised as an orthodox Jew, Shaffir chose to leave his seminary in order to study at the University of Maryland. After graduating from college, Shaffir moved to Los Angeles where he began to work at LA’s famous stand-up haven, The Comedy Store.
Shaffir answered phones and worked the door for years before he was able to secure a full-time job performing stand-up comedy at the Store. Ever since Shaffir has been a working comedian.
For 3 seasons, Shaffir hosted the Comedy Central series “This is Not Happening”, a show that featured stand-up comedians performing stories from their lives. He also hosts his own podcast, Skeptic Tank”, which is nearing its 300th episode. However, Shaffir’s greatest accomplishment as of late is his recent Netflix special: “Double Negative”.
“Double Negative” is a two-part release, comprised of the aptly named “Children” and “Adulthood” specials. Each begins without credits. Instead, Shaffir is introduced to the stage with only a few sound effects and a brief dynamic cartoon. Before “Children”, a dejected Shaffir is drawn sitting in the middle of a playground - accompanied only by his Star Trek toy and an unopened condom - as a busload of children play gleefully around him.
Before “Adulthood”, Shaffir sits - teddy bear covering his bare crotch - on a crowded subway with a whimsical grin on his face while a horde of disgruntled onlookers glares at him. This is Shaffir: not adult, not child. Shaffir is a man-child in the purest sense: a 40-something guy growing up in slow motion who refuses to have children because he’s worried that he might still be one. An emotional tumbleweed? Maybe. But it makes for good comedy.
The specials stay true to their name. “Childhood” begins with a Tinder date pregnancy and takes Shaffir all the way to a dramatic conversation between him and his hypothetical adopted son. “Adulthood” is a journey through the world of STDs, marijuana, homosexuality, and even Anne Frank. The comedy is sharp, highly irreverent, and manages to stay funny throughout.
In each special, Shaffir has already taken the stage when we first see him.
There’s no thunderous introduction to get us ready - we’re here for the jokes. The specials are shot with few cameras. The venue is small and Shaffir is dressed plainly. Only a stool and a few water bottle sit on stage beside him. The backdrop is simple and the lights are dim. This is a special that screams one thing: comfort. Shaffir exudes it with every ounce of his body. Whether he’s your new late-night binge or your comedy GOAT, Shaffir is anything but a novice.
This is Shaffir’s world - welcome to it.
Since his humble beginning at the Comedy Store, Shaffir has breathed stand-up. The stage is both his brothel and his church, his hideaway for dirty confessions and his place of catharsis. This special serves as both.
Shaffir’s anxiety about what it means to grow up is real. His work is the highly polished grumblings of a man who watches his friends get married, have kids, and build lives. This is a man who stands up on stage to make jokes about pooping his pants - this is a child. But this special isn’t a self-conscious exploration of immaturity. It’s a casual celebration of the person Shaffir has become. Adult? Definitely not. Child? No way. Shaffir is a hilarious explosion of silliness and darkness, a man at home with neither children nor adults. He’s just another person, figuring out his life as best he can. Shaffir’s special is an admission of just that; it’s a sly smile pointed at a haunting fear of immaturity and a subtle wink to waning youth, but if “Double Negative” proves anything, it’s that those two wrongs can absolutely make a right.
