Ricky Gervais’s ‘Mortality’ Special: A Blunt Parade of Whinges, Not a Contemplation of Death
A new Netflix stand-up special from comedian Ricky Gervais promised a scalpel-like examination of the human condition, but delivers instead a collection of mundane grievances and predictable controversy.
The premise of Ricky Gervais’s latest blockbuster, Mortality, held considerable promise. The idea of the sharp comic mind behind acclaimed television series like The Office and Extras applying itself to the deepest questions of life and death seemed ripe with potential. The reality, however, is a rather more blunt affair – a parade of mundane whinges peppered with controversy bait.
Some of history’s greatest comedians have wrestled meaning and laughter from the topic of our inevitable demise, from George Carlin’s timeless routine suggesting a two-minute warning before death to Norm Macdonald’s railing against the euphemisms surrounding cancer. Gervais, now 64, has himself explored grief in his series After Life. But if he has anything new to contribute on this darkest and most profound of subjects, Mortality provides no evidence. As Gervais himself acknowledges near the end of his hour-long set, “It wasn’t about death, it’s about life.”
Specifically, it’s about Gervais’s life as a wealthy and revered stand-up, largely revolving around settling petty grievances against those who make annoying noises and erecting straw man critics to position himself as a noble defender of free speech. He opens the special, as he did Armageddon two years prior, by highlighting how “all the complaints” and calls to “ban it” only propelled his shows to the top of Netflix’s charts. He later refers to the “elitists” he pretends are attempting to silence him. It’s worth noting that Armageddon won the Golden Globe for Best Stand-Up, and Mortality has already been nominated for next year’s awards. Gervais was recently honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Are these “elitists” present, Ricky? After achieving such success, his continued focus on the supposed threat of “cancel culture” increasingly resembles the very thing he claims to abhor: playing the victim.
The new set is unlikely to provoke the same level of outcry as 2022’s SuperNature, which an LGBTQ+ charity described as “dangerous, anti-trans rants masquerading as jokes.” Perhaps mindful of James Acaster’s viral critique mocking his frequent jokes targeting the trans community, Gervais manages to navigate the hour without revisiting that subject.
Instead, the topics he employs to court controversy feel remarkably dated. A routine attempting to reclaim “gammon” as a white man’s alternative to the n-word, and instructing Black people not to use it, feels positively ancient. While Gervais might argue the joke concerns double standards, understanding it requires a complete disregard for the history of the n-word. He appeals for his language to be judged within the context he presents it, yet readily ignores the broader historical context in pursuit of an awkward laugh.
It’s not that Gervais is inherently racist; quite the opposite. Rather, his jokes on the subject lack nuance. At one point, he argues that “social justice warriors” merely reflect the values of their time, stating: “People say things like: ‘Oh, I’m anti-racist.’ Yeah, well done, we all are. We know that’s the way to be now.” In a world where universal agreement on anti-racism existed, his point might hold weight, but in the current climate, the only appropriate response is: “Er, have you looked at the news lately?”
Despite its shortcomings, Mortality does contain moments that shine. His depiction of Stephen Hawking on Jeffrey Epstein’s island is sharp and pointed. Moreover, his performance retains a wonderful physicality reminiscent of his days as David Brent, whether miming the indignity of being too old for even prison rapists or vividly describing hungrily performing fellatio in hell (after watching The Exorcist) on the basis that, as jobs in hell go, it’s arguably not the worst.
What Mortality lacks, however, is genuine self-reflection. Gervais repeatedly claims this is his “most honest and confessional show yet,” but the material offers little to support this assertion. Perhaps he refers to a “behind-the-curtain” glimpse at hosting the Golden Globes, which largely consists of an Alan Partridge-esque anecdote about outsmarting lawyers who insisted on bleeping the word “minge” by pointing at his crotch when he uttered it. He, predictably, had the last laugh.
There’s a brief segment about telling a journalist he wishes to be fed to the lions at London Zoo after his death (a claim he doesn’t genuinely hold), and a few grumbles about the pains of aging, but overall, there’s arguably less contemplation of mortality than in Armageddon. Back then, he reflected: “We all die. We all know we’re going to die, and we all do die,” but refused to plan a funeral, declaring: “F*** my legacy. You can’t plan your legacy.” Gervais remains one of Britain’s funniest comedy writers, but judging by this material, he’s serious about not caring about his legacy.
In Mortality’s most earnest moment, Gervais states: “Whatever side of the political fence you’re on, we should all agree that free speech is still a really good thing.” Free speech is indeed valuable, and Gervais has been handsomely rewarded for exercising it. He even manages to plug his vodka brand before the set concludes. He’s won awards, achieved global recognition, and, as he frequently reminds us, amassed enough wealth to live in a mansion. But what good is free speech if you have nothing worthwhile to say?
‘Mortality’ is out now on Netflix.
