Entertainment
Ryan Sickler transforms near-death experience into unlikely comedy mission
Ryan Sickler is used to asking the question that people are afraid to ask: “Is there anyone here who has ever actually died and come back and would be comfortable talking about it in front of all of us?”
It’s not your typical comedy show crowd work but it has profound results. During his special “Ryan Sickler: Live & Alive” released on YouTube in October, a woman in the audience talked about a near-death experience as a child where she rode her bicycle in front of a neighbor’s station wagon. But Sickler pointed out that this remarkable level of candor in the audience is something he continues to marvel about. In fact, he said they did two shows the night they taped his special and during the second show two people in the crowd said they had near-death experiences.
“When I ask the question, I know there’s someone in the crowd that’s like, ‘There’s nobody in here that’s died and come back,’” Sickler said. “So now they’re all very excited to listen too. Like, what happened to this lady, or what happened to this guy? You know, there’s been some wild ones, some real funny ones out there too.”
Given how many comedy specials are being released on various streaming platforms, he says that “we have lost the specialness of the special.” But Sickler said since coming so close to death and being able to talk about it with candor and relatability, he is still calling his latest self-produced YouTube special, special. It now has more than 1 million views on YouTube. Sickler has been on the comedy scene for more than 30 years and released his comedy special “Lefty’s Son” in 2023. He also hosts the “HoneyDew Podcast.” His comedy career has often incorporated his lived experience with a rare blood-clotting disease called Factor V Leiden that almost killed him.
But these days, he’s grateful to be alive, to have been able to wake up when it looked like he might not, to watch his daughter continue to grow up and the laughs along the way. Sickler has long been candid about his chronic health issues with his comedy but he has found particular meaning in doing crowd work when he performs, that talks about death and what it means to live.
The Times recently spoke with Sickler about his special and how he thinks about his sense of health, humor and mortality.
Ryan Sickler in the studio where he films the “HoneyDew Podcast.”
(Al Seib / For The Times)
What did you want to say this time around in your new special?
My first special was something that was a bit of a hybrid of stuff that had been out there and around, but I didn’t own it. It was out there on people’s platforms. They’re making the money off of it. And so I did a bit of, “Let me get this stuff on my channel where I can control it.” And then the other part of that special was becoming a new single dad, all those things this time, specifically, I really just wanted to talk about what had happened and the results after that. I follow these comedy accounts and in October, there were 31 stand-up specials that hit between Netflix, Hulu, YouTube. November was 30. This month was a little slow because the holidays, but it was still at 18 the last time I checked. So I don’t think there’s anything special about stand-up specials anymore. You’re in an environment now where there’s a stand-up special a day, people are doing that with podcasts. There’s so much content going on out there, and I feel like a lot of it is the same. So I this time wanted to just take something that happened very personal to me, this incident, and then tell the story, not only behind it, but what happened after and I was really proud of being able to just focus on that and make that into this special instead of just my observations on this or my thoughts on that. I’m a storyteller and I really think that’s what art is.
When did you realize you had the courage to write about this near–death experience?
I know I had the courage to write about it a long time ago. When I’m making people laugh at my father’s funeral and things like that, I knew I was comfortable being able to take on the material. But what I didn’t know was, could I make it funny? Could I make it relatable? Could I make this one thing that happened to this one person on this rock in outer space matter to anybody and make them care? Because it’s not like we all had this happen to us. This is just one thing that happened to this one dude. So that was really what I was more worried about, is like, can I get this message across and make it relatable, funny and entertaining at the same time? Which is why I threw in those really expensive light cues.
It can be very challenging to hear about these traumatic [near–death] experiences that people have had. How do you absorb that and not absorb it too much?
I’ve been doing this show for so long that it does start to wear on you a little bit hearing a lot of the trauma. So I created a new podcast a couple years ago called the Wayback, which is just fun, funny, nostalgia. So that also for me, was like, let’s not dig into the tears and let’s just laugh about growing up. So that was one way where I could still keep it in my lane and do my job, where I alleviate that a little bit. But the other thing, and I make fun of myself a little, is I’m like the paramedic at the party now. I’m the guy that’s like “You think that’s bad, wait until you hear this.” “This one guy …” “This one lady …” You know what I mean? So I’ve almost become sort of their voice, and I have absorbed it in a way that isn’t so negative, where I carry it home with me. I always forget the quote how it’s worded, but it’s something to the tune of, if we all stood in a circle and threw our problems in the middle, we’d all take our shit right back. It’s like you know what, that’s what you’re dealing with? I’m gonna go ahead and take mine.
How is hearing all these stories and connecting with the crowd and fans in this way [about near–death experiences] changed how you think about your own sense of mortality?
Even with my close call, like, that one angered me, because you start to think about things. You never know how you’re really going to go. You might have an idea if you’re getting older and cancer runs in your family, whatever, but the fact that you could go to a hospital for a simple surgery, they don’t listen to you, everything’s there in your paperwork. You’re your own advocate. You’re doing all the right stuff by yourself, and you’re among professionals, medical professionals, not Yahoos, and you can still have someone else make a mistake and your life is gone. That started me thinking a lot like, “Oh man, for no fault of my own, I could also be gone.” So I go day by day, and I try to be happy day by day. And I’m not going to lie, I also like to know I got a little something tomorrow too.
Do you think that incorporating death and near–death in your comedy helps people work through their own feelings about death and grief?
I only say yes to that because the amount of emails I get, the amount of feedback we get, the amount of guests that still continue to show up [to support] the Patreon. I’ve definitely found, I would say, a purpose in my people. If you’re someone saying you’re a jerk for laughing at this lady talking about cancer, we’re not laughing at her cancer. We’re laughing at something, some light that she found in the darkness of this and trying to have a moment here together, all about, “Hey, there’s some positive ways to look at things at your lowest.” So I know it’s helped people. I mean, we have, over the years, probably thousands of emails now. We have people telling us how much it’s helped. And I mean just through podcasting, I found out I have this blood disease. I was 42 at the time, and already been podcasting. There’s a lady I went to high school with. She’s like “Ryan, my son is 17. He started clotting.” I said, “Go ahead and check for this.” He listens to the podcast. This kid has it. I said, “Well, bad news. It’s genetic.” Now the whole family’s got to get tested. And if you have it from one parent, it’s not great, but having it from two is bad. The whole family gets tested. The parents have it. She’s got it from both her parents. So I can’t get over the fact that a woman I knew when we were children, 35 years later is like, “Hey, that thing you’re talking about on your podcast, my kids, my family, we all have it.” And then I’ve talked about another disease I also have, called Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease, which is CMT. And from bringing that up, people hit me up on that like “I have it, no one ever talks about that.”
What have you found to be one of the positives — besides surviving — of your near–death experience?
Gosh, so many. I have a child, so getting to see her grow and really taking care of my health and things. Not that I wasn’t before, but just I dove in even deeper. I went and got what’s called a gallery test for prescreening for cancer. I started doing all these blood works and like, “Let’s go find out everything you know, because I didn’t find out that I had this blood disease until I was 42 when I clotted.” I’m living my whole life, not even knowing I have this thing and and if I don’t clot, there are plenty of people out there that live to 100 years old and have it. It’s really made me appreciate life and trying to take things day by day. I also was living in a little single-dad pad at the time. We had no central air. We had tandem parking. We were above dumpsters. Our laundry was outside in a room with quarters. And when I got home — I’m still on a walker — and I was like, “What are we doing? We’re going to die without central air? Are we going to die with a bucket of quarters on the fridge? No more.” And so I moved my home, I moved my studio, I did all these things that are, like, the biggest thing you can do in life. We’re going to roll the dice, scared money don’t win, and we’re just going to go for it. Also, as a comedian and anybody in entertainment will tell you, a lot of times you work scared, you hold that money and you wait until the next thing comes. And also, as a single parent, you know we got to budget. And I was like, no more. We’re not going to go out and buy 10 Porsches. We’re going to be responsible. But I was on point with let’s go get a living will and trust. Let’s make sure we have that life insurance policy. Let’s make sure we have all the proper paperwork and stuff done before we do anything like go on a vacation, you know, let’s get this done now and get it done proper.
What do those conversations look like, if you have them at all, about encouraging your male friends to go to the doctor or encouraging them to take care of themselves, physically and emotionally?
I would say the conversations go something like this. My younger brother is like, “Hey, man, I just went in for a test, and they’re telling me I got to have an old school triple bypass,” and then that’s what we all get tested. “Hey guys, I found I got a blood disease.” “Oh man, we all better look into it now.” That’s usually how it goes. I don’t know many men who are proactive. There are a few of us these days. But it’s usually something horrible happens and then we’ll be proactive about everything else.
Do you have male fans who also say “I [saw] your special … I went to your show, and it made me go [to the doctor]”?
Yeah, but I’m saying, though, it still took them to come see a professional clown to get them to go to the damn doctor. I actually have been very good about going, because everyone in my family died. So I’ve been proactive in the sense that I go get two physicals a year. I’ve been doing that since my 20s. I always tell my doctor, if I can go buy expensive sushi, if I go buy weed, if I go buy all these things, I can put money into myself here and come see you a second time and pay for all that. So I do two physicals a year, and I’ve been doing that forever. But I’ve never done any sort of like gallery test. And now we’re in our 50s, so we got to go get the prostate and all that. That’s when you start hearing about that stuff. There’s a lot of ignorance that goes into it as well. I just had a guest here on the “HoneyDew” and said he didn’t go to a doctor or anything for over 20 years because he was just scared of what they were going to tell him. He was scared to get the bad news. You can kind of get the bad news and you could turn that into good news. It doesn’t need to be deadly news.
How do you know when you’ve been too open?
It usually tends to be a personal thing where someone’s like, “I don’t really appreciate you bringing that up.” So I don’t anymore. I’m always cognizant of [saying] like, “Hey, would it be cool if I talked about this or whatever?” I feel like the question you’re asking me would have been great for me just before I started, like, the “HoneyDew” and stuff because this is what I really want to talk about. Everyone wants to talk about the best and bring their best and I just really do want to hear about, you know, the trauma bond. I want to hear about the worst times in your life. I want to know because, honestly, that tells me so much more about you than you verbally talking about you. You know who you were in those moments, how you reacted, how you behaved, how you’ve adjusted. Those things really end up defining who you are, and that’s more what I want to know about. I don’t want to know your best polished version of yourself.
Movie Reviews
I Can Only Imagine 2 Review: A Sentimental Film Lost With Its Messaging
PLOT: Bart Millard, lead singer of MercyMe, faces a personal crisis at the peak of his success. As his world unravels, he struggles with his beliefs and inner demons while seeking a path through adversity.
REVIEW: I should state right off the bat that I’m far from the faith based target audience for I Can Only Imagine 2, but I am aware of the band MercyMe. In fact, back in my middle school days, I saw the band perform live. So I do feel like I have some kind of experience with this music, even if it’s not my bag these days.
I Can Only Imagine 2 follows Bart Millard as he tries to lead his band MercyMe after their initial happy ending, but has issues at home that make him depressed. There is an interesting story there about what happens after you find big success, and where do you go from there now that you’ve tackled the mountain? But it’s more focused on Bart feeling like he’s failed as a father (which he states while providing for his big family, in his big house). Broadway star John Michael Finley does a good job as Bart, though it feels like his drama is just there for the sake of it. Milo Ventimiglia gives a good performance as Tim Timmons, a core member of the bad, even if the character himself is more annoying than anything. Dennis Quaid mostly shows up in archive footage, though he does get a quite meaningful flashback at one point.
The first film is about how Bart grew up and the creation of his Christian hit song, from which the film’s title is based. This sequel tries to show what it’s like for a musician to move forward after initial success and the struggles that may come with it, but it feels lost in its messaging. The lesson appears to be that you just need to create another hit song that catches on and brings massive success. So it’s kind of just hitting the same beats, but rather than starting from the bottom, we’re following them on a headlining tour. It’s hard to really feel like the band or the characters are really struggling in any significant way.
There’s so much manufactured drama here, and much of it feels unnecessary. One of the main conflicts of the entire movie is that Bart’s son Sam has Type 1 Diabetes. He has a lot of guilt regarding the fact that he has to hurt his kid by sticking him with a needle, and it reminds him of the abuse he endured by his father. You’d think this would be a slight subplot, but it extends the entire runtime and gets resolved in a montage. Sam gets mad at his father because he can’t take responsibility for his own health and remember to take his insulin. It comes across so childish, and even winding up in the hospital doesn’t teach him that he needs to remember to actually keep after his blood sugar levels. Instead, he’s just rewarded with a spot on the tour due to Bart’s guilt, versus Sam actually showing some initiative.
I Can Only Imagine 2 is packed full of random subplots yet none of them ever seen to really matter. It feels like the writer is just throwing a dart at a board covered with as many dramatic tropes as you can think of. Cancer? Check. Random pregnancy? Check. Son being mad at his father? You better believe that’s a check. I know that this is based on a true story but it’s all presented in such a rapid fire way that none of it even feels real. The ending text summary of what happened to everyone is real life just further adds to the feeling of “What was even the point of this film?”
However, it must be said that the music is well done and it was nice to see Red Rocks Amphitheater get such a spotlight as it is one of the greatest places to see a concert on the planet. But the messaging feels a bit lost and the focus is in the wrong spots. There are multiple times where characters are preaching to the viewer and it all feels very on the nose. I’m sure fans of MercyMe will enjoy seeing this but I’m really not sure the story transcends the faith-based audience for those without prior investment in the band. However, the target audience will no doubt appreciate it.
I Can Only Imagine 2 is now playing in theaters.
Entertainment
Conan O’Brien breaks silence over killing of Rob and Michele Reiner after his holiday party
Hours before filmmaking legend Rob Reiner and his wife Michele were found stabbed to death in their Brentwood home, they attended a holiday party at Conan O’Brien’s house.
Now, two months after the tragedy, the comedian has broken his silence about the death of his good friends.
“To have that experience of saying good night to somebody and having them leave and then find out the next day that they’re gone … I think I was in shock for quite a while afterward,” O’Brien said in an interview for “The New Yorker Radio Hour” podcast. “I mean, there’s no other word for it. It’s just very — it’s so awful. It’s just so awful.”
As host of the Dec. 13 party, O’Brien was among the last people to see the Reiners alive. Their 32-year-old son, Nick, was arrested the following night and charged with murdering his parents. Two sources who attended the party described witnessing a loud verbal exchange between Nick Reiner and his parents.
In an interview published Friday, O’Brien said he and his wife were very close with the couple, describing them as “just such lovely people.”
O’Brien praised Rob Reiner’s talent as a director and his tireless advocacy efforts. The “When Harry Met Sally …” director was a prominent Democratic donor, noted critic of President Trump and a champion for causes such as early childhood education and gay marriage.
“I think about how Rob felt about things that are happening in the country, how involved he was, how much he put himself out there — and to have that voice go quiet in an instant is still hard for me to comprehend,” O’Brien told The New Yorker.
O’Brien said he considers Reiner “one of the greats” given his impressive track record of directing a series of blockbuster movies.
“To make seven — in, like, a nine-year, 10-year, 11-year period — is insanity,” O’Brien said. “With ‘Spinal Tap’ alone, if that’d been the only thing he ever did, he influenced my generation enormously.”
O’Brien fondly recalled first watching the rock mockumentary “This is Spinal Tap” in college, calling it a “splitting-the-atom moment.”
The pair were not only friends, but also collaborators. Reiner was a guest on a 1999 episode of “Late Night with Conan O’Brien,” and also appeared on episodes of O’Brien’s podcast, “Conan O’Brien Needs a Friend,” in 2023 and 2025.
Authorities allege Nick Reiner fatally stabbed his 78-year-old father and 70-year-old mother at their Brentwood home sometime in the early morning hours of Dec. 14. The couple’s bodies were discovered in the master bedroom by their daughter around 12 hours later, and Nick Reiner was arrested that night in South L.A. by Los Angeles police.
Nick Reiner was charged with two counts of first-degree murder on Dec. 16 and has yet to enter a plea. In January, his arraignment was postponed to Monday after his lawyer, famed defense attorney Alan Jackson, stepped down and was replaced by a public defender.
Nick Reiner has a history of struggles with mental health and substance use. It is unclear how prominently those struggles will feature in criminal proceedings.
Times staff writers James Queally and Richard Winton contributed to this report.
Movie Reviews
‘Yo (Love Is a Rebellious Bird)’ Review: A Filmmaker’s Moving, Joyful, Formally Inventive Doc Tribute to Her Free-Spirited Friend
A singular, inventive and touchingly intimate documentary, director Anna Fitch’s Yo (Love Is a Rebellious Bird), co-directed and edited by Banker White, recounts the life of Yolanda “Yo” Shea, a free-spirited Swiss immigrant born in the 1920s whom Fitch (in her 40s now) was close friends with right up until Yo’s death. Although this tender portrait — told with puppetry, collages, nearly animated still photographs and candid film footage taken while Yo was alive — is limned with grief, it’s ultimately a deeply joyful work, crafted with painstaking care and precision.
Both Fitch and White appear in front of the camera a fair bit here, but their presence never feels self-indulgent, and they certainly never upstage the star of the show, Yo herself. It’s just that, as Anna’s voiceover implies, a bit of contextualization is needed to understand how these two women from very different generations came to be such good friends. Turns out they had lots in common: Both were only children; both artists, although Fitch trained as an entomologist at first (she’s made several nature documentaries featuring bugs, and caterpillars get a major supporting role here); both weren’t from California originally, although that’s where they ended up living; both became mothers; both have strikingly full heads of wavy hair, and so on.
Yo (Love Is a Rebellious Bird)
The Bottom Line Takes flight and soars.
Venue: Berlin Film Festival (Competition)
With: Yolanda Shea, Anna Fitch, Banker White
Director/screenwriter: Anna Fitch
1 hour 18 minutes
The whimsical listing of parallel experiences major and minor has a (slightly faux) naïve, recitative quality, as if we were looking at things through the eyes of a child. That suits the artless, unfiltered way Yo describes her life, spending a fair amount of time recollecting her own childhood. Meanwhile, 1/3 scale sets that Fitch builds of Yo’s dinky little house, and the even smaller models of 19th Street in Pacific Grove where that house was located, obviously evoke dolls’ houses, just a little bit bigger and constructed to facilitate filming sequences inside them re-enacting scenes from Yo’s last years. Everything inside this tiny, pastel-colored, seaside bungalow where Yo lived is recreated in miniature, down to the blankets on her bed, the fireplace and perhaps (although I can’t entirely confirm this last one) the ounce-sized bags of weed Yo smokes her way through, having been a pothead most of her adult life.
But before we get to an accounting of her druggy years, including a fateful acid trip that changed her life, we learn about her childhood in Italian-speaking Switzerland being raised by conventional parents apparently baffled by the weird, naturally rebellious kid they’d raised. At one point, as we hear Yo talking about her early years, the film cuts in luridly Technicolor footage from a 1955 German children’s film, Der Struwwelpeter, directed by Fritz Genschow, an adaptation of the classic folk tale about a tonsorially unkempt character who cuts off the fingers of disobedient children who don’t cut their nails or comb their hair.
Those clips go very well with the mildly eerie atmosphere that counters the notes of sweetness throughout — apt given that Yo was clearly a complicated character, loving toward her four children but also angry, fearless and determined to pursue her own truth, even if that meant making herself homeless to spend a long time hitchhiking up and down Highway One, the children left behind with her ex-husband. One anecdote about attending her own mother’s funeral and the reception afterwards, and getting so stoned with her husband’s brother she decides to have sex with him in her late mother’s bed, sort of sums Yo up — perhaps in a not entirely flattering way.
And yet it’s hard not to admire and warm to this unflinchingly honest, eccentric woman, especially the one we meet in her last years, worn thin by age but still beautiful, with a beady, impish gaze. A proper hippie to the end, she has no embarrassment about letting Anna film her naked in the bathtub while she chats away to a visiting helper.
She takes delight in so many things, even things that frighten her, like birds, a phobia she’s had since childhood but that doesn’t stop her from putting out nuts for a demanding blue jay she’s befriended. At one point, she remembers telling a guidance counselor as a teen that she didn’t want to work with children because she didn’t like them, even found them frightening. And yet she had those four kids, met here now in their own late middle age, and she’s affectionate and grandmotherly when seen bouncing Anna and Banker’s own infant daughter, who later insists on sharing her copy of Pat the Bunny with Yo as the latter lies in a hospital bed.
We learn that Yo went to art school in the end, and became close friends with artists of her generation, including Dadaist scultptor Jean Tinguely. But what’s interesting is that the film never tries to make out that Yo herself is a historically significant character. She’s just someone the filmmakers knew, loved and spent time with. But based on what we see here, she was remarkable in her own right — in many ways no less deserving of the documentary treatment than anyone else, a formidable woman and an indomitable spirit.
White’s jaunty editing ensures the proceedings roll merrily along, and yet the richness of detail in every frame makes this feel longer than its lean 71-minute running time, but not at all in a negative way. A varied smattering of classical music cuts, ranging from Bach fugues to snatches from Carmen and Madame Butterfly and a smidge of minimalist maestro Terry Riley, add a touch of formal dignity that complements the narrative.
-
Oklahoma4 days agoWildfires rage in Oklahoma as thousands urged to evacuate a small city
-
Culture1 week agoRomance Glossary: An A-Z Guide of Tropes and Themes to Find Your Next Book
-
Technology1 week agoHP ZBook Ultra G1a review: a business-class workstation that’s got game
-
Health1 week agoJames Van Der Beek shared colorectal cancer warning sign months before his death
-
Movie Reviews1 week ago“Redux Redux”: A Mind-Blowing Multiverse Movie That Will Make You Believe in Cinema Again [Review]
-
Science1 week agoContributor: Is there a duty to save wild animals from natural suffering?
-
Politics1 week agoTim Walz demands federal government ‘pay for what they broke’ after Homan announces Minnesota drawdown
-
News1 week ago
Second US aircraft carrier is being sent to the Middle East, AP source says, as Iran tensions high