Don’t Call it a Comeback, but Dave Chappelle is Back

More than a few of the great comedians of our time have had to turn their back on mainstream success and disappear for a while — call it a search for authenticity, a reset, or a quest for comedic zen. George Carlin ditched the clean-cut suit and tie to reinvent himself as a counterculture prophet. Lenny Bruce walked away from the safe nightclub circuit and pushed the boundaries of free speech so far he was arrested for it. Richard Pryor burned down his own act — literally and figuratively — to create a raw, fearless style that redefined what stand-up could be.

And then there was Dave Chappelle — a comic so naturally brilliant it seemed effortless, undeniable. Every time I saw him, I thought, this is the funniest man walking the planet. But beneath that cool, laid-back exterior, trouble was brewing: a crisis of identity and purpose that would send him on his own journey into the wilderness and away from the public eye.

I felt lost when Dave vanished, truly. Like so many fans, I wondered whether he’d ever come back, or if he’d stay hidden away on his Ohio farm, forever a ghost of what might have been. Dave Chappelle — the man who walked away from a $50 million Comedy Central deal and became comedy’s Axl Rose — might remain just another cautionary tale, a cultural treasure lost forever.

But then, on a crisp September night at the PNC Bank Arts Center, Chappelle stepped back into the spotlight and reminded 16,000 screaming fans why he’s still one of the most dangerous and brilliant voices in comedy.

“I know a few of you are just waiting to see me meltdown — and I might,” he grinned, cigarette in hand. “And that’s OK. Everyone wants to be at Siegfried and Roy on the night the tiger goes crazy.”

But there was no meltdown. No nervous breakdown. Just an hour of raw, fearless stand-up from a comic who seems stronger, funnier, and sharper for having walked away. Chappelle chain-smoked, laughed at his own scars, and tore through a set that felt as cathrtic for him as it was for the crowd.

He’s still not calling it a “comeback,” but the night had all the electricity of a rock-and-roll resurrection. The sold-out arena shook with laughter, applause, and the sense that we were watching a legend reassert himself on his own terms.

Comedy right now feels safe, corporatized, and forgettable — and that’s exactly why we need Dave Chappelle. He’s the guy willing to touch the untouchable, joke about the things we pretend we can’t joke about, and push the culture forward by making us a little uncomfortable.

Original version appeared in Shortandsweetnyc.com on September 13, 2013.