Instead of my usual film-related piece (I don’t have any reviews — I walked out of Gladiator 2), let me talk about stand-up comedy, a refreshing alternative to moviewatching.

I recently attended the opening of Brick Wall, a newly renovated comedy club in Uptown Parade, BGC. With its literal brick facade and intimate two-floor layout, the venue features a tiny stage ideal for up-close performances.

The event, exclusive to media, showcased short sets from several comedians, culminating with a one-hour set from headliner Rex Navarrete.

Stand-up comedy fascinates me. It requires intelligence and skill to craft jokes that land, using devices like puns, overstatements, catchphrases, and taboos.

I am a fan of Dave Chappelle, Earthquake, and Hannah Gadsby. For a while, I was obsessed with humorist David Sedaris, whose unfiltered, biting, and anecdotal humor resembles written stand-up. These comedians combine cleverness and bravery to challenge norms and provoke thought while making us laugh.

When does comedy cross the line?

That night, one of the opening acts stood out for the wrong reasons. James Caraan, a member of the comedy troupe Koolpals, began his set with the explosive Maris Racal-Anthony Jennings drama.

The reaction was wild, but, interestingly, he offered no commentary — just a throwaway mention. It quickly became clear he lacked spontaneous wit, because he already had a memorized script, leaving no room for improv.

Caraan’s rehearsed material focused on the Iglesia ni Cristo and PTV4. With the energy of someone masking nerves with cockiness, he began with bitter jabs at his former network, NET25, which had sacked him.

Then came the moment that defined his set: he mocked how members of the Iglesia ni Cristo pray.

Describing a birthday party setting, he “imitated” the INC’s prayer of thanks before eating. With wild exaggeration, he bent backward and screamed like a desperate man:

“AMAAAAAAA!!! SALAMAT SA MGA BIYAYAAAA!!! AT PAGPAPAALAAAA!!!”

The crowd laughed as he repeated the bit twice more, punctuating it with cuss words and even using it as a callback.

As an INC member, I cringed. Where was the humor? His act wasn’t clever — it was a cheap, over-the-top caricature.

Worse, he chose to perform this mockery at a media launch — possibly attended by an INC member — meant to promote the comedy club, a setting that demanded superior skill and solid material, not weak attempts at provocation.

Caraan’s parody lacked wit or satirical insight — it was exaggerated mockery, the kind of lazy humor that ridicules a specific group. While universal quirks of faith can inspire lighthearted humor, targeting a specific religion’s prayer in a distasteful way crosses the line into disrespect.

Host GB Labrador had warned the media audience that religion (turned out it’s the INC), would be part of the night’s material. Some mild, inoffensive jabs about dinuguan and Commonwealth Avenue peppered the night, but Caraan took it further, delivering the punch down.

When comedy backfires

History has shown how humor that mocks religion can often backfire.

Egyptian actor Adel Imam faced imprisonment for films accused of insulting Islam. Australian comedian Tim Minchin ignited protests with a profanity-filled song criticizing the Pope in America’s Bible belt.

The creators of “South Park” received death threats for featuring Muhammad in a 2001 episode, prompting Comedy Central to censor subsequent content. Danish cartoonist Kurt Westergaard narrowly survived an ax attack after depicting Muhammad in 2009.

It’s telling that Brick Wall likely avoided mocking Muslim prayers — or jabs at the LGBT community — knowing the risks. Instead, they chose a softer target — the Iglesia ni Cristo — a group that advocates peace (even supporting the anti-impeachment case against VP Sara Duterte solely in the name of peace) and is unlikely to retaliate.

The result was a bit that felt more spiteful than daring, and also as if to avenge the infamous stand-up comedian Gold Dagal, who, a few years ago, delivered a set about the INC — void of wit and driven purely by rage and attack.

When comedy connects without wounding

Roger Naldo, on the other hand, was a highlight of the night. His self-deprecating humor focused on personal anecdotes and observations that were downright hilarious.

Naldo’s relaxed delivery, impeccable timing, and witty material had the crowd roaring with laughter. Naldo reminded everyone that comedy doesn’t have to wound to connect — it can be hilarious without crossing into malice.

Brick Wall, in partnership with Comedy Manila, plans to host not just stand-up comedy but also improv nights, trivia events, live podcast recordings, and acoustic performances.

With such a diverse lineup, the venue has the potential to become a hub for meaningful entertainment — if its humor reflects the diversity of its audience and avoids cheap shots like Caraan’s, whose act landed with a weak thud and wasn’t really comedy, but nothing more than mockery cloaked in bravado.

Comedy has long relied on risky topics like politics, religion, and culture to provoke reactions. But when done with wit and insight, these jokes challenge norms, spark thought and bring people together. But when handled poorly, they alienate and offend without purpose.

Comedy has the power to entertain, challenge — and even unsettle. But with that power comes the need for restraint, especially with material that treads on deeply personal beliefs.

Because while comedy has no limits, the best comedians know how to challenge boundaries without crossing them.