Review: Watching 'Kill Tony' Just Makes Me Want To Kill Myself

A lot of liberals will argue that generally speaking, conservatives aren't very funny. But that's not true. It's not that conservatives don't have a sense of humor. It's that most conservative comics spend so much time focusing on triggering the libs and provoking outrage that they forget about the core reason they're there: to deliver a funny punchline.

It's a variation of the reason why most political comedians don't have a very long comedic lifespan. They start off being funny and as success comes, they begin to take themselves and their opinions entirely too seriously. Then they evolve from someone with a tight and hilarious 50-minute act to someone with the occasional punchline who spends much of their set talking about conspiracies and railing against whatever powerful force they believe is secretly controlling the world.

This inability to let loose of your personal axe to grind and just focus on being funny is the thing that I am most bored with by many of the comics working in the Austin-based Joe Rogan comedy cinematic universe. So much of their time is spent trying to be controversial in hopes of grabbing some attention and annoying critics. Even worse in my eyes is that few of the comics want to admit that is their goal. There is always this predictable comedy arc of saying something terrible, then smirking and pretending they didn't *really* mean it. Then arguing that "comedy is back" and that isn't it great that comics can now tell retard jokes the way that God intended.

Which brings me to the premiere episode of the Netflix series Kill Tony, the first of three weekly episodes drawn from the podcast of the same name. Hosted by Tony Hinchcliffe and his co-host Brian Redban, the two-hour-plus shows take place at Joe Rogan's "Comedy Mothership" club in Austin and the podcast bills itself as the "world's most popular live podcast." And while I have no idea if that is actually the case, it is very popular and I don't want to shrug off that popularity. But that doesn't necessarily mean it's going to be funny to a wider Netflix audience.

The premise of the show is straightforward. Local comics have their name pulled out of a hat and perform a one-minute set in front of a panel that includes Hinchcliffe and several guests. For the most part, these are struggling comics who are hoping to elevate their visibility and bit and get better bookings. The show also includes sets from some show regulars as well as other random appearances.

This initial Netflix episode of Kill Tony is long. It lasts over two hours and while I suspect that is a bit easier to take if you're listening to the podcast, watching the show if you aren't a hardcore fan is often a slog. For all of Netflix's hype that the show will be "mayhem, roasting and reveling in the raw, anything-goes energy of Austin’s comedy scene," the reality is that while there are some moments, much of the episode feels like some open mike night for really dull racists.

Panel guests on the episodes include Joe Rogan and comedian Kyle Dunnigan playing Elon Musk (in a bit that really only has one joke and goes on entirely too long). Shane Gillis later shows up as Donald Trump, Adam Ray does a quick set as Joe Biden and Tom Segura replaces Dunnigan when he thankfully leaves the panel.

One trade-off of doing Kill Tony in Austin is that while that helps draw on and reinforce that comedy scene, many of the guest comics are also drawn from the particular strain of politically right adjacent scene that Joe Rogan has created. So the one-minute sets are often flaccid and self-absorbed in a very specific way. Kai Wynn is a Vietnamese man who was adopted by a Jewish family and most of his punchlines involve some mix of lazy Jewish or Vietnamese stereotypes. He claims to have been performing for five years, which is a bit of a frightening piece of information. The second bucket pool comic is Pat O'Neill, who delivers a predictably half-ass mix of trans and fat girl jokes.

Even the "regular" comics are remarkably inept. Ari Matti is hyped by Hinchcliffe as being some hard-working comic who writes a new minute to perform every week. But Matti's set is built around the fact he's Estonian and he comes across like someone whose biggest comedy inspiration came from watching YouTube videos of performances by Russian-born Yakov Smirnoff. And Casey Rocket's act is primarily just frantically walking back and forth across the stage while occasionally stopping to deliver some out-of-context non-sequitur hint of a joke. 

And then there is a brief appearance by Jeffrey Ross, who I will admit up front I have never especially thought of as entertaining, much less funny. If your funniest quip is telling Hinchcliffe "I am so Proud Boy of you," I think you're drowning.

Dunnigan then returns as RFK Jr. and his opening joke was "My wife Cheryl Hines' pussy is so dry, that if it could talk, it would sound like me." Followed by "Speaking of one at a time, that's what Marilyn Monroe said when my uncle and father tried to spit roast her."

I suppose all of this is supposed to be shocking somehow and I suspect it might be to some people. But I grew up listening to "adult" albums by people like Redd Foxx, who were dirtier than Dunnigan could ever conceive is possible. Much of this comes across as performative and the comedy equivalent of dropping your pants in the middle of a suburban Target and screaming "You are all too woke to look at me!"

There were a couple of solid performances - Francis Foster and Kam Patterson had nice solid sets. But the most striking thing about this episode of Kill Tony is the consistent lack of entertainment value.

If you watch or listen to Kill Tony every week, I suppose the relentless number of masturbatory in-jokes and references is hilarious. But it's hard for me to imagine the episode was much fun for anyone else.

And I quickly grew weary of the frequent references to viewers likely being shocked or Netflix not knowing what it was getting into with the show. 

First of all, Netflix understands perfectly well what it is getting into with Kill Tony. It was likely to be yet another special that felt more like a DEI program for asshats than two hours of top-rated comedy. That's the shtick of all of these Austin folks. Shane Gillis shows up dressed as Donald Trump, uses the word "retarded" a bunch of times and smirks after every usage. "See how naughty I am," his facial expression seems to say. And I guess I am supposed to be offended somehow, or triggered or whatever. But my primary reaction is to be bored by the predictable efforts to drum up some controversy.

In the end, when the two-hour-plus episode of Kill Tony was over, I found myself more bored than outraged. Watching the show was a bit like watching a monkey jerk off at the zoo. The first time it's a little shocking. But after a while, you realize the monkey only gets enjoyment from the outrage that inevitably comes from visitors watching him go at it.

The premiere episode of Kill Tony is now available on Netflix.