Comedian vs Clown
When Mr. Birchum, Daily Wire's production of Adam Corolla's vanity project, debuted last year, people wanted my opinion of the show. In all honesty, I hadn't planned to waste time on it. After all, the trailer made it painfully obvious we'd be getting Family Guy, but the main character gives anti-wokeness sermons between fart jokes.
But then a valued patron clued me in to a video essay by YouTuber Bradley G. Now, I seldom watch videos by YT critics because these days, most of them come in two types: terminally online snark merchants parroting Reddit talking points, or YouTube-accented analysts who take 90 minutes to deliver three paragraphs' worth of information. So it was a treat to watch a video analysis by someone who a) knows how to construct an argument and b) has some skill with the subject under discussion.
And it just so happens that this video does the job of dissecting Mr. Birchum for me.
Bradley breaks down Mr. Birchum in three segments, each of which demonstrates one of the show's main failings. First, he zeroes in on the lackluster characterization, demonstrating that if your central character is a jerk, he'd better have a way to make up for it. Second, he targets the show's limp writing, pointing out that its jokes are indistinguishable from anti-woke memes Boomers post on Facebook. Third, he dismantles the animation—or lack thereof—exposing how a show that claims to speak against mainstream decadence can't be bothered to animate mouths properly.
But what makes the critique hit harder is the context Bradley provides by showing examples of series that got animated comedy right.
Bradley contrasts Mr. Birchum with three shows he deems superior: King of the Hill, The Simpsons, and The Amazing World of Gumball. Full disclosure, Gumball wouldn't be my pick for a paragon of animation, if only for helping to popularize the insufferable CalArts beanmouth style. But Bradley is right that it's better-drawn that Mr. Birchum.
Where Mr. Birchum is stiff, preachy, and artistically bankrupt, these shows—particularly in their early seasons—actually understood how to use animation to tell stories. They had heart. They had jokes. They had craftsmanship.
Take Bradley's first example, King of the Hill. It's a masterclass in comedic understatement. Mike Judge and Greg Daniels wrote characters who showed their depth through actions as much as words. Hank Hill was a traditional man dealing with 1990s cultural decay. But he wasn't a know-it-all jackass. The show let him fail sometimes so he could gain more understanding of himself and the problem to overcome it. That's called storytelling.
The Simpsons, Bradley's second example, hasn't mattered for decades. But back when it still had relevance, it could parody political issues without coming across as petty or smug. The comedy worked because it was sharp and character-driven, not because it checked off ideological boxes.
Gumball? I’ll give credit where it’s due. This is a show that could only be animated. It plays with style. It embraces exaggeration. It uses its medium instead of apologizing for it. That’s more than you can say for the whole genre of adult animation in the past decade.
Bradley’s greatest insight, though, comes in the final act. He digs up an old clip of Mr. Birchum from Adam Carolla’s radio days. Back then, Birchum was a caricature—a dopey woodshop teacher who unwittingly made himself the butt of the joke. The audience was meant to laugh at him, not nod along.
What DailyWire did was take Adam Corolla's satire and turn it into a crass mouthpiece. Instead of watching comedy, it's like watching an old man yelling at clouds.
Bradley has it right: Carolla stopped being a comedian and started being a clown.
It’s not enough to be against the Death Cult. You have to be for something. For beauty. For truth. For the good. And if you can’t manage that, then at least be funny.
Because right now, Mr. Birchum isn’t a threat to Hollywood. It’s just more consumer-grade propaganda.
And we don’t need more propaganda.
We need stories.