When trying to explain why “just a joke” to one is deeply hurtful to another, comic artists sometimes use the concept of punching up versus punching down
Kapil Sharma
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When trying to explain why “just a joke” to one is deeply hurtful to another, comic artists sometimes use the concept of punching up versus punching down.
Simplistically put, punching up means jokes about people in power and privilege, in relation to the position, not the individual (so, not to mock someone’s appearance, which they can’t help, for instance). This is a satire to unpack the mismatch between their deeds and words, their claims and realities. It may be done from the position of one marginalised by that power hypocrisy — as underprivileged classes and castes have bawdily done about kings and privileged groups. And sometimes from the vantage point of one favoured by that power, but also at its mercy, as jesters and behrupiyas have done for centuries.
To punch down is to mock those already marginalised from the mainstream by historical institutional and cultural processes of class, caste, gender or sexual orientations, for example. As bullies have done for centuries.
To put it simply, a joke is often at the expense of someone. The question is, can the person afford that expense.
This equation is not set in stone. It is impacted by that habitual complicator — artistry. A really good joke, touching on a genuine truth, human foible or displaying a great facility with language and craft, might sometimes be a pay-off that the butt of the joke considers sufficient, for instance. That is why, some politically incorrect jokes don’t offend, others do.
To be in control of this artistry then, is crucial to humour. And, bawdy, subtle, cruel or affectionate, it requires a deep awareness of irony — of the relationships in a society, and of your own position in them, both as individual and as joker. Confused? Well… let’s learn from the most successful of them all — Kapil Sharma and his couple of Not-so-Comedy Nights lately.
Kapil Sharma sent out a holier than thou tweet about corruption to the universe, yaniki, Prime Minister of country and Chief Minister of state no less, to complain about being forced to pay a bribe to the municipality. Where are your acche din, he lamented. He seemed to be punching up to the powerful. But well, he was really punching down to their subordinates, the municipality. This is the kind of aesthetic dheelapan which can confuse the audience. Someone does not find it funny, and that can turn the crowd.
In this case, the punchees at the BMC promptly “exposed” the comedian for paying a bribe to facilitate unauthorised construction and then stood tapping their feet like Obelix saying, ab batao? Sensing a breach in the wall, a wild card entry, yaniki environmental activist, quickly darted in through the gap to file a case about Mr Sharma destroying mangroves.
As with mangroves, so with corruption — it’s all an eco-system and a matter of who makes what possible. Maybe Mr Sharma, who hadn’t complained of the corruption earlier, felt that corruption, like pollution, has permissible levels — the natural fall-out of a screwed up power system.
In acting like he was not part of that eco-system, yaniki what the Greeks used to call hubris, Mr Sharma inadvertently made an offering of irony to the gods of comedy. And you know those guys — invoke them and they’ll ensure the joke’s on you.
Paromita Vohra is an award-winning Mumbai-based filmmaker, writer and curator working with fiction and non-fiction. Reach her at www.parodevipictures.com