There’s something oddly powerful about laughter — especially when it’s aimed right back at us. In this piece, I dive into the wild, intelligent world of satire: that deliciously awkward space where we laugh not with the characters, but at them… and sometimes at ourselves. From White Lotus to Brazilian comedies, from vampires to politics, this is a tribute to the kind of humor that doesn’t just entertain — it reveals, disarms, and connects.
I've been thinking a lot about how being funny is an art in itself — how, if you're funny at a bar table, you instantly connect with the people around you. And there’s such a subtle craft to it.
For some, being funny comes effortlessly. But try too hard, and it just... falls flat. It loses the magic so easily. That’s why I’ve been obsessed with comedians lately — I think their world is fascinating.
More specifically, I love satire. Good satire. There's something extra sharp about laughing at a situation that's a painfully accurate stereotype. I don’t know if I’m actually funny, but I’m convinced I’d write decent satire.
Because satire isn’t about laughing with someone — it’s about laughing at them. A subtle, but hilarious difference that changes everything. The point of view flips. Take White Lotus, for instance — we're laughing at ourselves, at our clueless, cringey selves. Brilliant
Another example: life itself. Life isn’t a comedy, it’s a satire — sometimes tragic, always absurd. You get it? That moment when life hits you with something so dumb, so obvious, all you can do is laugh. It’s like the universe is messing with you. God is a comedian.
So if your current life phase feels a little too satirical... don't panic. It’s just a new season. Maybe the show got new writers.
Speaking of writers, let’s talk about the sarcastic and chaotic humor of The Studio. What a phenomenon. Seth Rogen — I’ve always tipped my hat to you, but this is peak Rogen. You have to be both a seasoned expert and a goofy film nerd in love with the seventh art to create something like The Studio.
The narrative is layered, packed with nonstop jabs at the industry itself, and the references? Oh, the references. You don’t learn that kind of reference — you live it. That’s the kind of stuff you pick up when you’ve been in love with movies since you were a kid. When you follow the industry not out of duty, but because you're completely deranged for it. This isn’t work. It’s devotion. And it’s all done hilariously. I was glued to the screen.
It’s funny how humor works differently in every culture. In order to find something funny, you have to relate to it. That’s why British humor — always dry and acidic — hits so differently from American humor — cheeky and upbeat — or Brazilian humor — irreverent and shamelessly self-deprecating.
Fleabag stands tall for the Brits, dripping with personal sarcasm. It’s insane how a script can carry an entire production (well, not just the script — the actress deserves her flowers too). I’m also obsessed with What We Do in the Shadows — I mean, queer vampires? Please. And An American Werewolf in London? Because — dramatic pause — an Americanwerewolf... in London. I bow down to these comedies that aren’t just comedies — they’re satires. And I’m an absolute sucker for satire.
Now, on the American side of things — I have to say it: Superbad is peak comedy. That’s the kind of thing Americans do so well (and no, I haven’t forgotten The Big Lebowski, don’t worry). But Superbad is the kind of movie that sticks. It lives rent-free in your head because you can relate. Every awkward moment, every hormonal disaster — iconic.
But let me be clear: nobody does humor like Brazilians.
I recently rewatched Saneamento Básico — yes, literally a movie about basic sanitation. And I was in tears laughing. It’s brilliant. It’s outrageous. Fernanda Torres and Wagner Moura at their 2007 peak — it doesn’t get better than that. And if you’ve never watched Brazilian comedy? I don’t even know what to say. I mean, I’d recommend Os Normais with my eyes closed, but I get it — there’s a whole cultural context you have to tap into to really get the jokes.
Brazilian humor is raw. We joke about politicians, religion, we swear like it’s punctuation — and at the same time, we tip our hats to the humility and beauty of life seen from inside a favela. I feel deeply grateful to have been born Brazilian.
And after saying all that — here’s the kicker: comedy only works when we recognize ourselves in it. If the joke doesn’t hit home, we don’t laugh. That’s why niche comedy (like impersonating people from different parts of the US) is so damn good — because you sit there thinking, “Oh my god, that’s me.” We love seeing ourselves on screen, and when we realize how hilariously specific our own stereotypes are, life gets lighter, subtler, more bearable.
Comedy — and especially satire — is here to make daily life lighter.
If you can laugh at everything, you don’t go insane. (Or maybe laughing at everything is a kind of insanity?) But when you’re deep in the mud and, instead of losing your shit, you pause and laugh at yourself… that’s it. That’s the whole game. You’ve exited the tragedy and entered the comedy. And that, my friend, is winning.
As a little gift, I’m sharing my personal Letterboxd list with only the crème de la crème of comedy. Entry is brutallyselective — contenders go through a very intense (and highly biased) review process. Enjoy the gems!
Translating from Portuguese for you all, here’s the intro to the list:
I think what really gets me are great satires — probably because I’m a big-time mocker myself.