Therapist to the (funny) stars on why most comedians are either the youngest or only child
Alan Lefkowitz on why comedians are desperately in need of and uniquely resistant to psychotherapy. Also, why getting better doesn’t mean getting less funny.
The Clown Whisperer is a GQ profile on Alan Lefkowitz, the therapist who treats a ton of NYC comedians.
“You need to compete with someone to get into a particular club. You need to make a living, or you define your success by whether you get a TV show,” Lefkowitz says, leaning forward in his chair and gesticulating his points like a seasoned professor rehashing a subject for a fresh crop of students. “There’s a value judgement in terms of how you measure your success and self-worth that interferes with your original connection of why you became a comic,” he explains. Midway through his lesson, Lefkowitz challenges me to think about why most comedians are either the youngest or only child. The answer I eventually land on is only children are used to having attention lavished upon them unconditionally, while youngest children have to fight for it. “Smart. Good,” Lefkowitz tells me, and I’m embarrassed by how happy I am to receive his validation.
Trying to entertain people with nothing but words is the most panic-inducing scenario fathomable to most people. Jerry Seinfeld even has a bit about it: “If you have to be at a funeral, you’d rather be in the casket than doing the eulogy.” Surely those who actively seek that experience must be overcompensating for some deep-seated sense of inadequacy. That, or comedians are such brave yet tortured souls that they have no choice but to pursue a career telling it like it really is (see: egomaniacs). At the same time, comedians are keenly aware of their psychological hang-ups—they joke about them constantly—but suffer from the delusion that their neuroses are the source of their creativity and humor, and that getting healthy would therefore mean transforming into some kind of bland, unfunny asshole. This makes them, as a class of people, desperately in need of and uniquely resistant to psychotherapy.
Lefkowitz also says improving your mental health doesn’t mean getting less funny.
I get a taste of Lefkowitz’s bluntness when we discuss comedians, like [Joe] List, who struggle with anxiety onstage. “Comedians can solve their stage fright by drinking, or they can look at why they’re anxious about getting up there,” he tells me. “Why is your entire self-esteem on the line?” For that answer, he teaches them to turn this talent inward and re-examine their families and relationships—two areas ripe for both emotional breakthroughs and comedy. That, and he assures them that getting better doesn’t mean getting less funny.
FYI, I’m on the road this weekend in the midwest. Come through or tell a friend:
9/16/22 - Chicago, IL (Misguided Meditation show)
9/17/22 - Iowa City
9/18/22 - Davenport, IA
Coming soon: Albany, NY and New Orleans, LA. Also, I’ll be doing Misguided Meditation at Caveat in NYC on Oct. 18.