How Netflix Is A Joke Became A Comedy Must

After a rather inauspicious beginning – to put it mildly – Netflix Is A Joke has turned into one of comedy’s quintessential events.

The streaming service/entertainment megalith announced its foray into live comedy March 2, 2020. Ten days later, the first COVID-connected, stay-at-home orders were issued.

“We legendarily announced the festival and then almost immediately canceled. Really, it was a lot of fun,” Robbie Praw, Netflix’s vice president of standup and comedy formats, remembers sardonically.

Two years later, they came roaring back with nearly 300 acts across 10 days in Los Angeles. It was a celebration of the return of live comedy, which surged back with momentum many feared it would lose during the pandemic. Comedy festivals aren’t new, of course – Praw himself has been programming them for years – but backed by Netflix’s heft (with considerable assistance from Live Nation), NIAJ almost immediately seemed like an Olympics of the format, a must-do with plenty of opportunities for special events.

The 2024 version will be even bigger, stretching 11 days May 2-12 across more than three dozen venues in Los Angeles and more than 500 shows. 

The headliners are a who’s who of current comic stardom: Jerry Seinfeld, Chris Rock, Sebastian Maniscalco, Bert Kreisher, Kevin Hart, Nate Bargatze, Matt Rife, Chelsea Handler, Jon Stewart, Ali Wong, Bill Burr, Cedric the Entertainer, Fortune Feimster, Jeff Ross, Jim Gaffigan, Katt Williams, Kountry Wayne, Leslie Jones, Marlon Wayans, Maya Rudolph, Mike Birbiglia, Mike Epps, Patton Oswalt, Sarah Silverman, Seth Rogen, Taylor Tomlinson, Tom Segura, Trevor Noah, Wanda Sykes and many more.

The venues range from the obvious – LA has plenty of established comedy clubs – to the maybe not-so-much, with shows at the Hollywood Bowl, the Greek Theatre and even Sunset Strip staples like the Troubadour, plus arena plays at the Kia Forum.

Point being: after a fitful start and restart that was not wholly without risk, NIAJ is already a behemoth.

But Praw says the ability to produce the festival of such ambition and magnitude is a reflection of what comedy in general is doing. Netflix certainly played a role in that – 2024 marks 10 years of stand-up specials on the service, which has now produced more than 100 of them, including career-changers from Nate Bargatze, Taylor Tomlinson, Ali Wong and others – but comedy broadly has been doing big things.

“It’s not a phenomenon happening with a person. In the past,  you saw an Eddie Murphy phenomenon, a Blue Collar Tour phenomenon, a Kings of Comedy phenomenon, an Andrew Dice Clay phenomenon. Now it’s like the genre has been elevated,” he says. 

Because Netflix built relationships – and trust – with so many comedians while producing specials, Praw said it was natural to ask them to come along as Netflix moved to the streets from the screens. Though – with the eye of someone who works in comedy – he does recognize a little irony.

“It’s pretty funny that the company that you’re used to for when you want to stay inside your house and relax would be encouraging you to go with thousands of people outside watching these great comedians.”

It also helps that comedy is now in a space where stand-up comedians now view stand-up as an end to itself rather than as a vehicle to get a gig on a TV show or a movie. Those avenues are important to some acts and available, of course, but the comedy boom has created a space where live itself can be the point. 

Further, Praw sees a shift in the way comedy is perceived by the industry and by the audience.

“Not everything is for everybody and that’s great, that’s OK. In music, we’re so used to the notion there’s country music, there’s R&B, there’s rap, but comedy was always put in its own bracket,” he says. But comedy can mean lots of different things and people who say “I don’t like stand-up” usually mean they haven’t found a stand-up comedian they like. 

“Going back to music, you’re a fan of the sound. In comedy, you’re a fan of this voice and that singularity that comes out at a stand-up stage,” he says. “Stand-up is so singular and that’s why when people strike a chord with you, you could be a fan of a comedian for life and that’s a powerful thing.”

That dynamic is behind the comedy boom broadly, but also a major driver in why NIAJ became such an important event in comedy so quickly.

“We realized during the last festival that, yes, Netflix is presenting it and we’re in the middle of it but this event really belongs to the comedy world now in a way that I don’t think we expected when we started.”