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Ryan Sickler transforms near-death experience into unlikely comedy mission

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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.

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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 neardeath 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 [neardeath] 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 neardeath 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 neardeath 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 neardeath 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.

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Movie Reviews

Jack Ryan: Ghost War review – Amazon’s Tom Clancy series spawns middling movie

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Jack Ryan: Ghost War review – Amazon’s Tom Clancy series spawns middling movie

For years, author Tom Clancy’s Jack Ryan character was a fixture of the multiplex, with movies providing reluctant-leading-man-of-action opportunities for Alec Baldwin, Harrison Ford, Ben Affleck and Chris Pine. Most of them were hits. (Sorry, Chris!) In that context, it might seem a little low-rent that the newest character’s newest adventure, Jack Ryan: Ghost War, is actually a made-for-streaming continuation of an Amazon TV series, where John Krasinski takes over the CIA analyst role. But there are potential advantages to this approach, too: four seasons of the show can establish the character and his world, relieving the movie version of the full reboot burden. (No small thing for a familiar character who’s nonetheless been played by five different guys.) In particular, the existence of the hit show eliminates the standard waffling over what stage of Ryan’s career he should start in. Let the TV show handle the salad-days stuff, and the movie can join him mid-career without requiring several box office successes to get there.

And to its credit, Jack Ryan: Ghost War manages to stand alone quite well despite the preceding 30 episodes of set-up. (I certainly don’t remember them all with crystal clarity, and I was never lost on a plot level.) Less fortuitously, it’s more coherent than competent, especially compared with the previous movie versions. That might not seem like a fair fight, but Ghost War does position itself as some kind of movie after four seasons of serialized television; there must be some reason for this new framework, whether it’s a bigger budget, a more pulse-pounding story or a chance to put Krasinski alongside his predecessors. (He’s already played Ryan for more hours than any of them.) By the end of its 105 minutes, though, the movie seems to eliminate the most obvious possibilities, and its reason for being hangs in the air.

Ghost War rejoins Ryan, who has quit the CIA and landed a job with a hedge fund, hoping for a shot at the normal life his cloak-and-dagger past has denied him. (His normal life apparently must involve unfathomable wealth.) Then his old boss James Greer (Wendell Pierce), deputy director of the CIA, resurfaces to ask Ryan for a minor favor during an upcoming business trip to Dubai. But a quick (if elusively described) meet and drop-off becomes more complicated when the other guy is murdered mere feet away from Ryan. Soon the ex-agent and his former colleague/current contractor Mike November (Michael Kelly) are tenuously joining forces with MI6 agent Emma Marlow (Sienna Miller), tracking a plot to reactivate terrorist groups.

A plot to reactivate terrorist groups could also describe Jack Ryan: Ghost War. Obviously terrorism still exists, but there’s something about this movie’s geopolitical outlook that feels firmly rooted in the late 2000s, when 9/11 was still a relatively recent world event and countless government norms remained in place, no matter how morally murky foreign policy might get. Ryan’s questioning of the American dream, which is more or less how he puts it in a howler of an argument he has with Greer, focuses almost entirely on shady international affairs, in the vaguest and most fictionalized terms possible. The harder the movie ignores political realities of the 2020s, the more it feels like a period piece drifting through the ether.

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Krasinski has a greater degree of accountability for the bad speeches than past Ryans; he’s the first actor to play Jack Ryan from a script he co-wrote. It’s dire stuff, especially considering the decent work he did on those Quiet Place movies; here, there are no less than three lines predicated on the phrases “that’s a thing” or “that’s not a thing”, dialogue that wouldn’t pass muster in a sitcom or a Marvel movie, let alone something aiming for more substantial gravity. If it seems like four seasons of TV would be more than enough time to work out feeble jokes about espionage earpiece etiquette, think again. Ryan has been variously played as gruff, nerdy, charming, self-righteous and slick. Krasinski is the first actor to make him look like a smug lightweight. (Yes, Pine’s underseen version was vastly more likable.)

Surely Ghost War must at least work as a bigger-canvas action movie, then? Not really. There’s a moderately entertaining car chase and some high-volume shootouts, and director Andrew Bernstein certainly keeps it all moving along at a pace. But the film’s thrills are sadly limited and small-screen-y, with only flashes of globe-hopping intrigue. The big climax takes place in an anonymous-looking skyscraper under construction, which beats the green-screened anti-locations of a few early scenes, but not by much. Diehard fans of the show might find more enjoyment in seeing Krasinski, Pierce, Kelly and Betty Gabriel back again, or adding the believably hard-bitten Miller to the mix. The movie does set up potential for a continuing movie franchise. Mostly, though, Jack Ryan: Ghost War feels like a sad state of affairs for the world’s dads (and dads at heart), who deserve to see airport-novel espionage brought to less chintzy life.

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Why the ‘Harry Potter’ series is recasting a major role ahead of Season 2

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Why the ‘Harry Potter’ series is recasting a major role ahead of Season 2

Gracie Cochrane won’t be enrolling in Hogwarts this fall.

HBO announced that Cochrane will depart the upcoming “Harry Potter” series ahead of Season 2. Cochrane played Ron Weasley’s (Alastair Stout) younger sister, Ginny, in “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.” Cochrane and her family attributed the “challenging decision” to “unforeseen circumstances.”

“Her time as part of the ‘Harry Potter’ world has been truly wonderful, and she is deeply grateful to [casting director] Lucy Bevan and the entire production team for creating such an unforgettable experience,” the Cochrane family said in a statement. “Gracie is very excited about the opportunities her future holds.”

HBO said they “wish Gracie and her family the best.”

“We support Gracie Cochrane and her family’s decision not to return for the next season of HBO’s ‘Harry Potter’ series, and we are grateful for her work on season one of the show,” HBO wrote in a statement.

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Tristan Harland, Gabriel Harland, Ruari Spooner, Gracie Cochrane and Alastair Stout.

(HBO)

The HBO series was greenlit for a second season in early May, months ahead of its Christmas Day premiere later this year. If the sophomore season follows J.K. Rowling’s second book, “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets” (the first season is adapted from the first novel), Ginny will begin her first year at Hogwarts in Season 2.

Cochrane was cast following a massive undertaking by HBO to find young actors for the show. HBO reviewed more than 32,000 auditions before selecting Dominic McLaughlin to play the boy who lived. The cast was filled out with West End performers, like Arabella Stanton (Hermione Granger), first-time actors like Amos Kitson (Dudley Dursley) and longtime stars including John Lithgow, who will play Albus Dumbledore.

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HBO Chairman Casey Bloys explained that they expected a lot of “interest” in the cast because of the cultural prominence of the “Harry Potter” franchise.

“Interest can tip over into more unpleasant and aggressive behavior,” Bloys told Deadline, alluding to racist backlash over the casting of Paapa Essiedu as Professor Snape. “We talked to them about what to expect … but any kind of security that’s needed is an unfortunate aspect of doing IP shows. We just try to be mindful and monitor it.”

In March, HBO released its first trailer for the show, which included a peek at the redheaded Weasley family saying goodbye to Ron at Platform 9¾ before he boarded the Hogwarts Express. The trailer also teased Harry’s acceptance letter from Hogwarts and his wand and Nimbus broom.

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‘Ben’Imana’ Review: Rwandan Women Confront National Wounds and Family Secrets in a Searing Drama

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‘Ben’Imana’ Review: Rwandan Women Confront National Wounds and Family Secrets in a Searing Drama

“I forgive” are the first words uttered by Vénéranda in Ben’Imana, but her ferocious gaze and the clamp of her arms across her chest tell a different story. At the center of a fine cast of mostly nonprofessional actors, Clémentine U. Nyirinkindi brings Vénéranda’s resolve and all her painful contradictions to life in Ben’Imana, a searing and intimate portrait of a nation’s reckoning.

Writer-director Marie-Clémentine Dusabejambo’s drama is set in the Rwandan village Kibeho in 2012. It’s the final year of the Gacaca courts, community tribunals focused on addressing the genocidal crimes committed, neighbor against neighbor, in the previous decade. Through the character’s complex and often tense relationships with her teenage daughter, her sister and her mother, as well as with other women in her village, Dusabejambo has crafted a story that’s both emblematic and achingly specific.

Ben’Imana

The Bottom Line

Mother courage.

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Venue: Cannes Film Festival (Un Certain Regard)
Cast: Clémentine U. Nyirinkindi, Kesia Kelly Nishimwe, Isabelle Kabano
Director: Marie-Clémentine Dusabejambo
Screenwriters: Marie-Clémentine Dusabejambo, Delphine Agut

1 hour 41 minutes

The person Vénéranda officially forgives in the opening scene is Karangwa (Aime Valens Tuyisenge), the man accused of murdering her siblings and other relatives. Of the eight children their mother (Arivere Kagoyire) raised, only Vénéranda and her sister Suzanne (a riveting Isabelle Kabano, who starred in Eric Barbier’s Small Country) survive. Suzanne’s fury is as explosive as her sister’s is contained. Contending to the judge (Adelite Mugabo) that Vénéranda “has no right to forgive on behalf of our family,” she’s determined to bring Karangwa to justice.

And she has no use for the community meetings that Vénéranda has begun leading, in her role as the district’s social affairs officer. Local women are invited to share still-raw memories, to grapple together with the kinds of things that would be immaterial to the courts. Their sessions are part of the country’s “Rwanditude” program, designed to reunite Rwandans after years of ethnic conflict and bloodshed.

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Just as mentions of ethnicity are verboten in the courts, there’s no such identification in these gatherings, no way of knowing whether any of these women is Tutsi or Hutu, whether her husband was murdered or is in prison for murdering, until she stands to tell her harrowing story. (The film’s title is a Kinyarwanda word that emphasizes a collective identity, rather than the ethnic divisions of Tutsi and Hutu that Rwanda’s European colonizers encouraged and enforced.)

The younger generation, personified by Vénéranda’s spirited daughter, Tina (Kesia Kelly Nishimwe), and her boyfriend, a low-key photographer named Richard (Elvis Ngabo), has grown up without ethnic labels. But while Vénéranda holds herself as a model of forgiveness to women in the group, she can’t see past Richard’s Hutu heritage, and she turns a cold heart to Tina when she becomes pregnant and is kicked out of school. “Neither Richard or his family has harmed me,” Tina points out reasonably, while her mother fumes with shame and judgment, her inner turmoil finding expression in a baffling hypocrisy.

As harsh as she can be, Vénéranda is a devoted caretaker of her mother, who has lost her voice as well as her memory and is the regal, silent watcher of the unfolding family drama. Vénéranda also tends to her sister, whose health was taken from her, along with her husband and child, during the attacks. Suzanne is electric with anger even as her physical strength dwindles. “Can’t you stop your bullshit on forgiveness?” she hisses at Vénéranda, and urges her to reveal certain long-hidden truths to Tina.

What binds these two is the depth of what they’ve endured, the unspeakable brutality; what divides them is how they respond to it. Ben’Imana offers no simple definitions of courage, but rather a feverishly human group portrait of its possible expressions, with the exceptional triumvirate of Nyirinkindi, Kabano and the radiant Nishimwe forming the story’s broken but still hopeful heart.

Dusabejambo, working from a screenplay she wrote in collaboration with Delphine Agut, is attentive to her characters’ pain and their resolve, mirrored in the vibrancy of the setting. With strong contributions from cinematographer Mostafa El Kashef, production designer Ricardo Sankara and editor Nadia Ben Rachid, the movie is cinematic in an utterly unforced way, from the first images of gently rolling hills and the sound of birdsong to the bright interiors of Vénéranda’s home and the gentle, lilting score by Igor Mabano. Just as a brief piece of voiceover narration notes that a single word, ejo, means yesterday and tomorrow, Ben’Imana contains whole worlds in one very specific here-and-now.

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