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.
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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?
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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.
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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.”
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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]”?
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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.
It has been just over a year since Jackie Chan unleashed upon us the execrable ordeal that was Panda Plan, an abysmal family-focused caper centring on his efforts to save a shoddily rendered CGI panda from a gang of incompetent terrorists.
Continuing this unexpected trend, Panda Plan: The Magical Tribe defies all expectations as a marked improvement on its predecessor in almost every conceivable way.
It jettisons much of the baggage that bogged down the first film in favour of a fanciful jungle adventure that plays to the actor’s enduring strengths as a physical comedian.
The first time David Byrne’s disco musical “Here Lies Love” was publicly staged at Mass MoCA in 2012, Josh Dela Cruz was a bright-eyed ensemble actor thrilled by the novelty of joining a majority-Filipino cast.
Like many recent theater school grads, Dela Cruz was still trying to find his niche as a performer, oscillating between the pursuits of ethnic ambiguity — a casting asset — and cultural identity. But in post-rehearsal chow-downs with his fellow cast members, he felt at ease as his peers spoke about their Filipino upbringings and their experiences processing the show, which chronicles the rise and fall of the infamous Filipino dictator Ferdinand Marcos.
The subject matter was emotionally taxing for some, but at the time, Dela Cruz said, “it was something that happened.” Past-tense.
Now, as he takes the stage in a new Center Theatre Group production as the late anti-Marcos leader Ninoy Aquino, he said, “it’s something that’s happening” — and not just in the Philippines.
“Here Lies Love,” which opens Wednesday at the Mark Taper Forum, three years after its Broadway debut, is arriving in downtown L.A. at a prescient moment. Protests have erupted throughout the U.S. in response to an ongoing federal immigration crackdown that some characterize as part of a broader push toward authoritarian rule. Meanwhile, across the globe, Marcos’ son, Philippine President Bongbong Marcos, and Vice President Sara Duterte, face twin impeachment complaints accusing them of high-level corruption and other violations of public trust.
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“Here Lies Love” is directed by Center Theatre Group’s artistic director, Snehal Desai.
(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
Similar events worldwide have dovetailed with the narrative landscape of the musical, which centers on the dictator’s wife, Imelda Marcos, her rise to power and her fall from grace. It’s also staged to implicate the audience in the Marcos’ ascension to office, ultimately revealing how corrupt leaders often appear charming at first. The production, directed by CTG’s artistic director, Snehal Desai, is drenched in glitz and glamour that conceals its darker themes — until it doesn’t.
Desai chose “Here Lies Love” for this season long before President Trump deployed National Guard troops throughout the country, just as he selected CTG’s July production “Jaja’s African Hair Braiding” — which ends with its titular character being taken into ICE custody — ahead of last summer’s immigration raids in L.A.
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“I don’t have a crystal ball. I’m planning based on where I feel like we are, and what are the conversations we’re going to need,” Desai said during a recent “Here Lies Love” rehearsal break, noting that in the number “God Draws Straight” the lyrics talk about nuns and priests from the church leading the resistance, which mirrors the current moment in America.
“The playbook, which is political assassinations, it is censorship, it is martial law, is literally what we’re seeing happen,” Desai said.
Two weeks before opening night, the “Here Lies Love” cast plunged through the musical’s latter half before a lunch break.
They rehearsed in a small room in CTG’s annex building on Temple Street, which Desai said was shut down during last summer’s ICE protests. Ensemble members donned flared heels, Onitsuka Tigers, cloud slides and other shoes that evoke Imelda‘s infamous 3,000-pair collection, intentionally left unmentioned in Byrne’s musical.
“I hope that people that are Asian or Filipino leave with a sense of pride seeing themselves reflected on stage,” Joshua Dela Cruz said. “It doesn’t matter if you’re half or a quarter or an eighth, you’re Filipino. And this is our culture and our history that we carry.”
(Etienne Laurent / For The Times)
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The actors glided across the makeshift stage with panache, sparing no vocal force as they sung through the uptempo track “Please Don’t” and the acoustic ballad “God Draws Straight.”
“You can tell that they want it to be really good,” choreographer William Carlos Angulo said.
Indeed, the show’s leads said they felt a particular loyalty to the L.A. production, which is being performed in the city with the largest Filipino population outside the Philippines, amounting to over 500,000 residents.
Reanne Acasio, who plays Imelda, said that her role is far more delicate than her recent historic turns as each of the Schuyler sisters in Broadway’s “Hamilton.”
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“Doing a show that talks about historical events with people who are all long gone by now is a very different experience than [performing for] people who are still traumatized by these events,” Acasio said.
The actor, who made her “Here Lies Love” debut in 2023 with Broadway’s first-ever all-Filipino cast, said that like many Filipino immigrants, her parents never voluntarily spoke about their time under martial law. So when Broadway show attendees told her they’d come with their families, she was amazed.
“The fact that this show was able to open up that door to conversation, to research on their own, was such a pivotal moment,” Acasio said, “not only for representation, but to start to heal some trauma that gets stuffed in the back of the closet.”
Chris Renfro, who plays Ferdinand Marcos, said being a part of the show has enabled conversation about the Marcos regime within their own family.
“I’ve begun to connect these little stories that they would tell me, and now I get to see them with a different color to them because they would — I mean, probably rightfully so — take the bad parts of the story,” Renfro said. “But now we’ve been talking about it very frankly.”
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The musical is structured in a similar way, they said, opening with the joviality of a disco or Philippine noontime variety show, then slowly shedding that illusion.
“We keep on moving until you really can’t refute the evidence, and it becomes something that you have to confront,” they said.
It’s what Dela Cruz admires so much about Byrne’s story, which begins in “a very proud, very lighthearted place, almost nostalgic,” and ends in a spirit of confrontation.
“I think that’s the brilliance of David Byrne, where he kind of gets you comfortable with an uncomfortable conversation that you will later need to have after the show,” Dela Cruz said. “That’s why this show is so important now, and I really love how it’s being shaped for today’s audience.”
Desai kept most show revisions close to his chest but did reveal that “American Troglodyte,” a number about the Philippines’ simultaneous glorification and disparagement of American culture, will have several reprises, each meant to solicit a different response from the audience.
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By the song’s third appearance, the director said, it’s a “wake-up moment” for everyone.
Over the years, “Here Lies Love” has been criticized as insensitive to the Filipino community in its perceived glamorization of Imelda and minimization of the atrocities committed by the Marcos regime.
In response, show producers in a 2023 statement said, “Democracies all over the world are under threat. The biggest threat to any democracy is disinformation, ‘Here Lies Love’ offers a creative way of re-information—an innovative template on how to stand up to tyrant.”
Joan Almedilla, who plays Aurora Aquino in the Taper production, said her wish is for audiences to feel a collective call-to-action against oppressive leaders.
“In the Philippines, this story is ‘the government versus the people,’ as opposed to now, ‘people versus people versus people versus the government,’” Almedilla said.
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As guests leave the theater, the actor added, “I hope people sit there and say, ‘There’s more of us. What are we doing?’”
“Wuthering Heights is Emerald Fennell’s dumbest movie,” said Alison Willmore in NYMag.com. “It also happens to be her best.” In her adaptation of Emily Brontë’s classic novel, the director of Saltburn and Promising Young Woman “throws off the burden of trying to say something significant” and instead makes the legendary romance of Catherine and Heathcliff simply the story of two drama whores who can’t quit each other. “Fennell has an incredible talent for extravagant scenes that bypass all higher thought functions to spark a deeper lizard-brained pleasure,” and she leans fully into that talent here.
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To me, Fennell’s “gleefully self-conscious” film style proves “an awkward fit for Brontë’s roiling, tormented saga of passion, cruelty, and doom,” said Nick Schager in the Daily Beast. Her “Cathy” and Heathcliff aren’t doomed to unrequited longing. Instead, even after Cathy marries for money and security, she and the poor-born Heathcliff “get down and dirty in bedrooms, carriages, and out on the moors,” squandering the talents of co-stars Margot Robbie and Jacob Elordi and reducing the tale to “florid, horny, juvenile fan fiction.” This is a movie that “should sell heaps of tickets,” said Daphne Merkin in Air Mail. “Influenced by the aesthetics of soft porn and high fashion,” it aims to win over Gen Z viewers, and in its own “edgy, stylistic” way, “it works.” Still, by allowing the lovers to act on their hunger for each other and by leaving out Catherine’s post-mortem haunting of Heathcliff, Fennell’s Wuthering Heights turns out to be “a less radical rendering of the otherworldly desire that Brontë captured almost two centuries ago.”
‘Good Luck, Have Fun, Don’t Die’
Directed by Gore Verbinski (R)
★★★
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“There’s zero doubt, watching this film, that it was made by a madman,” said Eric Vespe in The Film Stage. From the moment Sam Rockwell bursts into a busy Los Angeles diner as a wild-eyed character claiming to be a time traveler from a grim future, “it’s clear you’re not in for a movie made by committee.” Instead, the ride you’ve strapped in for is the first from Pirates of the Caribbean director Gore Verbinski in nearly a decade, and though the 134-minute adventure runs long, “it’s never dull, in part because it’s so hard to predict what’s coming next.”
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Nothing in Verbinski’s sci-fi action comedy would work without Rockwell, said Peter Debruge in Variety. The Oscar winner’s crackpot interloper announces that he needs help to avert AI’s future uprising against humanity, and as he picks his team from the diner’s patrons, a routine he’s ostensibly carried out 117 times before in precisely the same location, Rockwell “makes a great avatar for the cavalier stance that nothing matters when you get endless lives.” Soon, the mission team includes Juno Temple’s single mom and Haley Lu Richardson’s sad-eyed punk, and we’re treated to a “virtuoso” orchestration of Everything Everywhere All at Once–style time-travel anomalies. The screenplay lacks the sharp teeth that would elevate Good Luck to a high-concept classic, said David Rooney in The Hollywood Reporter. Still, “Verbinski’s flair for kinetic action set pieces make it a reasonably entertaining entry in the canon of gonzo sci-fi comedies.”
‘Sirat’
Directed by Oliver Laxe (R)
★★★★
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“You might have a few reasonable guesses where this story is headed. They’re probably wrong,” said Amy Nicholson in the Los Angeles Times. Spain’s “punkish, prankish, and strangely existential” contender for the Best International Feature Oscar opens with a rave in the Moroccan desert at which we see a father and his young son asking the whacked-out revelers whether any have seen the boy’s missing older sister. The party is then broken up by soldiers bearing the news that something like World War III has broken out, and suddenly, Oliver Laxe’s “taut and riveting” drama is tracking the father, his son, and a break-off group of ravers racing farther into the desert.
Though the movie “begins in exhilaration and concludes in despair,” said Justin Chang in The New Yorker, its narrative “takes off like a shot” and never flags while its “mysterious” power emanates from the makers’ “tough-minded understanding” that human kindness is “rare yet persistent,” even in the direst circumstances. “Laxe offers a much too literal takeaway during the film’s final moments,” said Natalia Keogan in the A.V. Club. “But as the cliché advises, it’s the journey Sirat takes us on that merits appreciation.” And if the world is truly ending, “maybe one last party, one last dose of serotonin, isn’t such a bad send-off.”