Punchlines, politics, and a risk that didn’t pay off

Comedy shows are a minefield of potential disasters— maybe the sound system acts up, there could be a microphone malfunction, or worse— the joke might just not land. Amidst all these variables however, one thing remains a constant—no matter how clearly you instruct the audience in both Bangla and English not to record what's going on stage, they absolutely will! 

After all, why bother enjoying a show you paid for when the real achievement is posting a story on Instagram—one most people will likely skip—just to show you had a fun weekend?

So when two of our better comedians, Ahmad Ashik and Amin Hannan Chowdhury returned to the stage at The Attention Network on 21 February, apart from the regular intervention of the duo asking the audience to not bring their phones out every five minutes, they did deliver a show packed with sharp punchlines and impeccable timing—until they ran out of material. The sound failing to reach the back rows of the modestly spaced venue also didn't do the comedians any favour.

Amin opened the show with a solid set, sharing stories about his recent Thailand adventures and the flood of hatred in his comment section—especially the recurring line, "Please underline where we should laugh." and how his fans seem to disappear when it comes to showing support online. He also engaged in some fun crowd work, blending the Bangla language into the theme in honour of International Mother Language Day.

Since August of last year, a common theme in comedy shows has been comedians embracing their newfound freedom, freely making political jokes without consequences—just as it should be. They flourish in political satire, moving past the usual quips about the former prime minister escaping the country.

Most of the jokes didn't land, and the crowd work felt sloppy due to poor execution. Still, it's a positive sign that Bangladeshi comedians are experimenting with new formats instead of relying solely on overly sexual humour and outdated dad jokes.

Ashik took the stage next with high energy and a crowd in stitches. He delivered his takes on the July Uprising without crossing the line, poked fun at English-medium students, and dug into political humour. 

He painted Mujib as the country's first motivational speaker, joked about Ershad pioneering the 'play-ah' lifestyle, and revisited the never-ending political rivalry between former ladies of the land which the public endured for years.

Amin and Ashik's solo sets were the highlight of the night—the jokes landed, and the crowd was thoroughly entertained. However, the show lost momentum in the second half when the duo took the stage together, attempting crowd work, which unfortunately fell flat due to poor execution.

Crowdwork is always fun because it's unpredictable, and comedians usually have a joke ready to fire back. But instead of the usual back-and-forth, the duo brought someone from the audience on stage for an improvised banter filled with made-up scenarios and quick jokes. 

The problem? When you put a random person in the spotlight, they feel pressured to match the professionals and almost always fall flat. The idea of performing mini-skits on stage is something international comedians have done successfully, but it works best when only the comedians are involved—or if the so-called 'random' audience members are actually prepared in advance.

Most of the jokes didn't land, and the crowd work felt sloppy, mainly due to poor execution. Still, it's a positive sign that Bangladeshi comedians are experimenting with new formats instead of relying solely on overly sexual humour and outdated dad jokes.