You enter the small, cramped room in the basement of some obscure bar, whose name probably includes the words comedy, laugh or joke. Bright light hits your face as you step up to the microphone and your clammy hands grip the mic’s cold metal. The feedback stings your ears before you grab the mic off the stand and stare into the face of, if you’re lucky, a decent-sized crowd. You might take a shaky breath and clear your throat. Then it’s time to launch into your set, where maybe, just maybe, you get laughter back. 

If you have ever performed stand-up comedy, you know it sends your senses into overdrive. Yet for many, once they have stepped up to the mic for the first time, they can’t stop stepping up. There is something intoxicating about the feeling of performing on a claustrophobic stage—even if the audience doesn’t laugh at every joke. Stand-up can be a way to get the various stresses and anxieties off your chest, almost like a free group therapy appointment. 

The romantic comedy “Is This Thing On?”, directed by Bradley Cooper, explores this same catharsis. The film follows Alex Novak, played by Will Arnett, as he navigates his recent separation from his wife Tess (Laura Dern). Alex is forced to figure out what his new single life will mean as he navigates raising his two children, losing his friends and deciding whether he should try to repair his relationship with Tess or move forward with his life. (Cooper also has a supporting role in the film as Alex’s best friend, named Balls.) Strong and cutting dialogue between the couple makes the wounds in this relationship feel open and real. There is no romanticization of Alex’s situation. Starting with the first scenes of the film, the audience is forced to feel the dull, hazy pain Alex is attempting to wade through in the wake of his separation.

Trying to escape his lonely apartment, Alex goes to a bar, where on a whim, to avoid paying the cover, he signs up for a stand-up open-mic. A few drinks in, he stumbles onto the stage and without any real jokes launches into a short monologue discussing the woes of his life post-separation. Although there are some awkward silences and moments where Alex stumbles trying to find the right words, he manages to get a few laughs from the audience and is instantly sucked into the world of stand-up comedy.

Stepping up to perform stand-up for the first time is more common than one might think. Often at the last minute, maybe despite your better judgment or the constant urging from friends, it takes a leap of faith and a deep breath to get up on the stage and put yourself out there. Although it might fill you with a sense of fear and anxiety at first, there is a sense of therapeutic relief if one is truly open while at the mic. 

Every comedian has nights when they shine and nights when they struggle to get a laugh. Yet this inconsistency and desire to entertain and provoke laughter inexplicably calls you back to the mic. Most comedians have also adopted ritual into their performances. Every comedian spends special time crafting jokes and funny stories in their own unique way. As time goes on, most comedians develop their own set of superstitions that help them craft the best night of comedy possible. (If you ask comics, they’ll probably explain that if they don’t do their rituals, they won’t get their laughs.) 

In the film, Alex develops habits before each show, taking time to review jokes in his notebook, have a drink and chat with the other comedians. He allows himself to loosen up and shed the weight of the outside world before getting up to the mic and laughing in the face of his problems. 

I have often thought that the best comedians play a version of themselves at the mic. Most are telling real stories or a version of events that have occurred. However, it is a distorted, heightened version of what actually happened. A comedian like Jerry Seinfeld might actually be annoyed by the eccentricities of life, but he is undoubtedly playing a character when he steps up to perform. The same goes for comedians of the self-deprecating variety, like John Mulaney, who uses the stage to cope with painful life moments—notably, in Mulaney’s case, a very public battle with addiction. 

Someone like Steve Martin does this in a slightly different yet equally powerful manner. In his early years, by playing a buffoonish version of himself, he created a surreal stand-up character that he used to combat his real-life struggles with panic attacks and hypochondria. By using the microphone as a tool for therapy, it is easy to rant about the small things that annoy you or cope with whatever might be hurting you by converting these annoyances or struggles into laughter and jokes. 

In the film, Alex Novak is no different. He is clearly stagnant and unhappy at the beginning, so when the possibility of a divorce from his wife is tacked onto this, it is a wakeup call. At first this leads to a lonely existence defined by drinking and sleepless nights in a small apartment. Worse yet, he still finds himself stuck in the past, unable to move past his established and often selfish expectations for his life. The mic helps Alex come to realize that his life can and should have more meaning, and there are still positive changes and new turns his life could take. At the mic, he pokes fun at his meandering existence, comes to cope with the decisions that he has made and decides to move forward from them.

Alex is also able to find a community with the other comedians he encounters. Like him, they are also going up to the mic to cope with the struggles of life and almost immediately accept Alex, flaws and all, into their community.

I couldn’t help but see some version of myself in Alex. As a novice comedian, dabbling in sketches, stand-up and improv both during and after college, I related to his discovery of a type of therapy in comedy. Like Alex, I spend time jotting down thoughts and anecdotes from my own life with the hope of turning them into a routine. I also spend time bouncing ideas and jokes off other amateur comedians up until the last minute, developing jokes and ideas until the moment I step up to perform. 

I also found myself called to comedy during a  time of struggle and uncertainty. I swallowed the fear of embarrassment just enough and took the stage with my college comedy club. Throughout my two-year tenure with the club, dozens of jokes and sketches bombed. There were painful moments of silence where I had hoped for laughter. But I still found myself trying again and again. My comedy almost always has roots in parts of my life both positive and negative; my job, my loved ones and my interests all have been the source of the best comedic ventures I have undertaken. 

In “Is This Thing On?”, Alex is able to start moving on to develop a sense of his own identity apart from his long-term relationship and finds a passion in stand-up as a craft. He is drawn in by the laughter of the audience, the struggle to create good jokes and the enjoyment of bouncing a new set off others that truly get what he’s going through, whether they are struggles as a single father or the challenges of navigating new romances. 

His divorce from Tess is one of the standard themes of his sets as he jokes about even the hardest parts of the situation. As Alex explains: “I’m getting a divorce. What tipped me off was that I’m living in an apartment on my own…and my wife and my kids don’t live there.” The stand-up sessions flush his system of his baggage, allowing him to mature into a more well-rounded and put together person, no longer defined by his past but excited by his new passion. 

Working and thinking like a comedian has undoubtedly helped me cope when life throws various curveballs. It has allowed me to be stronger in the face of adversity and trauma, learning to move on from the difficult parts of life in a healthier manner. And perhaps most important, it has helped me become a stronger member of the various communities I am a part of. And it’s fun. Getting laughs from an audience for a joke you’ve worked hard on is a shot of serotonin unlike any other experience.

To people like Alex and myself, who step up and embrace the bumps, rituals and inevitable embarrassment that comes from entering the seemingly daunting world of comedy, one can learn to laugh at (and with) a healthier and stronger version of themselves. 

William Gualtiere is an O'Hare Fellow at America.