Matt Rife on the stage in Washington DC. He now boasts an incredible 18 million followers. Photo / Netflix
Review by Karl Puschmann
Karl Puschmann is Culture and entertainment writer for the New Zealand Herald. His fascination lies in finding out what drives and inspires creative people.
Because I am a middle-aged man I am not on TikTok. This is why I hadn’t heard of the hot new comedian Matt Rife before his comedy special Natural Selection popped up on Netflix earlier this week. Apparently, his TikTok videos are very funny. I’m having a hard time believing that.
Rife was a journeyman comic before he began posting crowd-work videos to TikTok. These snippets of impromptu banter with members of the audience took off on the video-sharing social network like a rocketship and exploded his career like it was made by Elon Musk’s SpaceX. He now boasts an incredible 18 million followers.
Now whether through calculation and design or merely the almighty algorithm recognising that Rife is a very handsome fellow and subsequently feeding his vids to a receptive audience, I don’t know. But Rife’s crowd-work videos quickly attracted him a sizeable female audience which in turn attracted Netflix’s attention.
Rife’s been unfairly criticised by some uncharitable – and, let’s be real for a moment, probably fugly – critics suggesting that his entire career is based solely on his good looks and not his comedy chops. I don’t subscribe to that notion. Good-looking people can be funny. Just look at me.
But there’s a big difference between getting laughs through impromptu banter with the audience and crafting top-class material that can sustain momentum for a solid hour and poor old, good-looking Rife doesn’t even get past the starting line without stumbling.
He opens with a domestic violence bit that’s so old I thought he was going to follow it up with, “Take my wife, please!”. Instead, the trending comedian unleashes a set that’s as fresh as stale bread. Dick jokes, airline jokes, fat people jokes … What year is this?
He also spends a large chunk of time expressing his annoyance at the fanbase he has grown and cultivated for the past three years on TikTok. He doesn’t like that his audience is largely women and he doesn’t like that they’re not a crowd of cool men. But most of all he doesn’t like that he’s TikTok famous. He is, you understand, a real comedian. One who does sets and everything.
Maybe this is why he leans into “edgy”-type humour so hard. It’s an effort to trade the audience he has for the audience he wants. It’s a bold move, I’ll give him that, but is there an audience out there for jokes about autism and how it’s super dumb that some girls like crystals?
Rife’s humour is fairly mean-spirited and I think he’s shooting at being a younger Bill Burr type. But Burr’s bitter energy is largely targeted at pointing out society’s hypocrisies. Rife’s is aimless and wanting. He’s angry at airlines and social media and fans on Twitter who disagree with him. He’s not so much a rebel without a cause, more a comic without a point.
He strides confidently close enough to the taboo to be able to bemoan cancel culture – B****, you can’t cancel me, I’m not your gym membership,” admittedly a pretty good line – and internet trolls – read people who disagree with him online – without straying too far over to actually face any serious repercussions. Although calls against his domestic violence gag this week had him double-down by posting a mock apology and links to buy special needs helmets.
Personally, the only thing about Natural Selection that I found offensive was how unfunny it all was. None of the material is as edgy as he clearly thinks it is. Nor is it particularly original with the exception of a late bit about getting busted stealing a porn vid from his stepdad when he was younger.
The special ends the set with an unearned mic drop. Traditionally, this gesture punctuates a kiss-off to one’s haters. Here Rife uses it to berate … his fans? To his credit, it was a rare display of originality. Sadly it was too little too late.