Comedy = Tragedy + Time
Why you need emotional depth in your comedy
A quick reminder before today’s post: you can still get a discounted first chapter review from me until the end of the year. Normally $70, if you use the promo code FROSTY you can get it for $50.
See You in 2026!
This is my last post for 2025. It’s a re-run from a few years ago about the importance of emotional depth in comedy. It was a useful refresher for me as I gear up to draft a new comedy in 2026. Hope it helps you all too. See you next year!
Comedy = Tragedy + Time
It is a strange irony that many of the funniest people on the planet struggle deeply with depression. Many of us turn to comedy when we want something “fun” or “light” – and yet, the most beloved comedies, the ones we return to over and over again, are the ones that do more than tickle our funny bone. They’re the ones that make us feel something. Something deep.
In my post last week, I recommended defining your audience by their pain points in order to find emotional resonance. I think that folks who are writing light, cozy, or humorous stories may skirt the dark or the deep emotions when writing out of fear of making their stories too heavy.
Emotional depth won’t necessarily make your book sad, but it is a prerequisite for reader investment.
Consider Our Flag Means Death, an anachronistic comedy about 18th century pirates.
This opening sequence for Season 2 episode 2 had my wife and I screaming with laughter despite the fact that Blackbeard (played by Taika Waititi) is in the depths of homicidal/suicidal despair. Eighteenth century pirates are simply a vehicle for the show’s main theme: belonging. All of the main characters struggle with loneliness, heartbreak, or feeling like they don’t belong. That’s heavy stuff! But it’s also the heart of the story. It’s the way that the audience emotionally connects with the characters and why we keep coming back. The humor comes from anachronism and incongruity. The vicious pirate Blackbeard deals with his heartbreak by raiding a wedding…and then moodily playacting with the wedding cake topper that he modified to look like himself and his beloved.
Ok, Sam, you might be thinking. But that’s a dark comedy.
Of course it has heavy themes. But even lighter comedies have protagonists in deep emotional anguish.
In You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah (the book and the movie) the main character experiences a friendship breakup with her best friend after a perceived betrayal.
In the first episode of Friends, Rachel runs away from her own wedding when she realizes she’s not in love with her fiancé and Ross is getting divorced because his wife has realized she’s gay. These things wouldn’t feel funny to us in the midst of experiencing them, and they certainly don’t feel funny to the characters, even if we, the audience, get to laugh about it.
Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall is a masterclass in character and structure, worth reading and studying many times over. The main character, Luc, is deeply depressed and anxious when the book starts, and yet, the book is hilarious and heart-warming.
Within the first chapter of Ella Enchanted we learn that Ella has been cursed from birth to obey all direct commands, and she loses her beloved mother when she’s fifteen. Ella’s transformation and the deep emotional connection that made this book Newbery-worthy are not possible without Ella’s traumatic past. Yet, despite the tragedy in Ella’s backstory, the book is fun, not sad.
An Exercise for the Humor Writers
If you would categorize your project as light, cozy, fluffy, and/or fun, reflect on the following. (Actually, even if your book is meant to be darker or heavier, these questions are still good.)
Why is your reader reaching for something light/fluffy/cozy/fun? What are they running towards or away from?
How do you want your reader to feel when they finish your book?
What do you hope your reader will say when they recommend your book to their friends?
How is your story going to help your reader find what they didn’t know they were looking for? (Or, answer the question they didn’t know they were asking?)
What you say here is very true. Without that emotional depth, comedy is merely slapstick.
It reminds me of something my wife heard from an anthropology professor years ago, that jokes and comedy are one of the primary ways that we deal with tragedy. I think that means it's a vehicle for sorting through what can be a complex (and often hidden) emotional landscape.