In 'Jerrod Carmichael Reality Show,' A Black Comedian Imagines His Queer Identity

In 'Jerrod Carmichael Reality Show,' A Black Comedian Imagines His Queer Identity
 

Screenshot from “Jerrod Carmichael Reality Show”

As anyone who’s ever had a fulfilling hookup app experience can attest, even the most contrived and artificial scenarios can yield moments of genuine connection and intimacy. Jerrod Carmichael has plenty of those moments in “Jerrod Carmichael Reality Show,” his new Max project chronicling the comedian’s biennial whirlwind. Carmichael chose to reveal his deepest secrets in a well-received comedy special that juiced his professional career while fracturing his most valued relationships. That acerbic performance gave rise to “Reality Show,” as well as to its subject’s fixation on looking for love – or at least fleeting intimacy – in all the wrong places.

There is no “Jerrod Carmichael Reality Show” without “Rothaniel,” the 2022 special that laid bare his most personal struggles and familial traumas. The first admission is that the special’s title comes from his unapologetically Black birth name, which he shed in favor of his middle name for commercial purposes, like so many celebrities before him. The second is that his father was not only unfaithful to his mother, but that Carmichael’s household was one of two parallel, crosstown families his father was maintaining. Continuing in the theme of “you’re only as sick as your secrets,” Carmichael reveals that he’s gay and that his relationship with his family (particularly his mother) is in peril due to his coming out.

It’s in Tyler’s appearance that ‘Reality Show’ becomes its rawest and most intimate despite the artificial framework built around it.

As “comedy specials” go, “Rothaniel” is far more special than it is comedic. Carmichael’s performance is characterized by shame and distress. He spends much of the hour with his face buried in his palms or his eyes fixated on his feet. He pays little deference to joke conventions or stand-up rhythms. There are stretches of silence that seem to last so long that Carmichael’s interjections feel like the punctuation rather than the other way around. But it’s an incandescent and undeniably compelling performance from an artist choosing to expose mostly unprocessed trauma before a live audience. It’s Lauryn Hill’s “MTV Unplugged No. 2.0” with muted rimshots instead of acoustic guitar.

“Rothaniel” wasn’t Carmichael’s first time publicly discussing his sexuality. In “Home Movies,” another naturalistic, autobiographical documentary from 2019, he described himself as bisexual using sidelong language. But it wasn’t until “Rothaniel” that his career hit its biggest stride. Two days after the special premiered, Carmichael made his “Saturday Night Live” hosting debut as part of the special’s promotion. Then he was nominated for two Emmys: Outstanding Guest Actor in a Comedy for his “SNL” appearance, and Outstanding Writing for a Comedy Special for “Rothaniel.” He won the latter award and went on to host the Golden Globes ceremony the following year.

The Evolution of Carmichael's Public Confession

When we meet Carmichael in “Reality Show,” he’s a week out from his triumphant Emmy ceremony. Adding to the general award jitters and the pressure to slay the red carpet, he’s struggling with anxiety about whether or not to invite his best friend, to whom Carmichael recently confessed romantic feelings, to be his plus one for the evening. He spends the episode fretting about the lack of response from his BFF. To distract himself, he indulges in quick-and-dirty Grindr hookups that are documented without so much as a flinch, as when he lustily nibbles the toes of one of his ephemeral paramours. Even the least likely among us to kink shame could be caught off-guard by such a scene, starring a celebrity who, prior to his coming out, derived very little of his public persona from his love life.

In the hours following the episode’s premiere, Carmichael’s sexuality is all anyone can talk about. Not because of the tootsie tasting, but because the best friend to whom Carmichael has offered his heart and a plum seat at Los Angeles’ Microsoft Theater, is Tyler Okonma, better known as rapper Tyler, the Creator. Carmichael has counted Tyler his closest friend for years, and he appeared on “Igor,” the project that gave Tyler his first chart-topping record and a Grammy for Best Rap Album. The episode is titled “Emmys,” but it’s shot through with Tyler’s looming presence, though the rapper only appears on camera briefly toward the end.

It’s in Tyler’s appearance that “Reality Show” becomes its rawest and most intimate despite the artificial framework built around it. Carmichael asks Tyler to have an on-camera conversation about the precarious state of their friendship. After Carmichael confessed his love for Tyler, the rapper responded with a withering text: “Ha ha, stupid bitch.” They never discussed Carmichael’s feelings again before the Emmy invitation, which Tyler left on read for days before claiming his hectic schedule wouldn’t allow it. “I know him, he’s not that busy,” Carmichael says while recalling the conversation on stage for an audience that is frequently heard but never seen.

Tyler is more forthcoming in his conversation with Carmichael, though not by much. He’s at least willing to concede that he didn’t know what to do with a romantic overture from someone he considers as close as a blood brother. It’s unclear what shape their relationship will take in the future, but in his oblique way, Tyler tells his friend that romance won’t play a part in it. Every gay man watching “Reality Show” will empathize with Carmichael’s heartbreak in this moment. Any romantic rejection stings, but it’s scorched-earth devastation coming from a straight-adjacent man to a gay man trying to beat back the fear that to be gay is to be fundamentally unloveable.

As raw and real as Carmichael’s interaction with Tyler is, it’s hard to shake the feeling that, for the audience, ‘Reality Show’ is like having their own Grindr hookup with the comedian.

As raw and real as Carmichael’s interaction with Tyler is, it’s hard to shake the feeling that, for the audience, “Reality Show” is like having their own Grindr hookup with the comedian. We never see Carmichael at home, only in a Chateau Marmont-style extended-stay hotel for the glitterati. He sucks toes with abandon but elides the peculiar dynamic in his unrequited crush on Tyler. Namely, the fact that Tyler appears to be the only Black man Carmichael is attracted to. None of Carmichael’s filmed trysts are with Black men. He has a white boyfriend, who will play a role in future episodes. He characterizes the targets of his desire as “Latino twinks from the Valley.” A fleeting shot on the Grindr app on Carmichael’s phone shows a grid entirely composed of pale bodies, the ostensible result of an exacting use of the app’s filters. What sets Tyler apart? Even as Carmichael purports to surrender the most sensitive and precious parts of himself, he actively remains aloof.

Carmichael manages to find an alternate date for the Emmys, a white friend who will only appear on camera in a black hooded bodysuit and opaque goggles as if he’s shooting a promo for Ye’s fashion line. (The friend is only billed as “Anonymous,” but if it isn’t long-time collaborator and “Rothaniel” director Bo Burnham, I’ll eat a tub of Boy Butter.) Anonymous questions the motivations behind the whole show, pushing back at Carmichael’s notion that invited documentation can yield anything close to reality. Carmichael doesn’t fully acknowledge the argument, and besides, he says he’s more comfortable on camera. How can he know he’s exposing himself if there’s not a lens present? This version of Carmichael, however earnest, embodies a lyric Rihanna borrowed from Tame Impala: “Finally taking flight/I know you don’t think it’s right/I know that you think it’s fake/Maybe fake’s what I like.”

 

Joshua Alston is a writer, editor and cultural critic based in New York. His work has been featured in Newsweek, Vanity Fair, The A.V. Club, and Vibe, among others.