Lewis: For immature audiences only
Last week, a friend invited me to a comedy show at the Vilar Performing Arts Center. It was a last-minute invite as his wife had a scheduling conflict. I checked out the act and noticed it was labeled for “mature audiences.” Given my age, I assumed I qualified as “mature” and agreed to go. Little did I know how mistaken I was.
Considering the warning, I assumed it would be a typical profanity-laden performance. You know the type — comics who pepper their routine with profanity at every turn. The actual content seems secondary, with the humor derived from the liberal use of the “F” word, akin to the way an 8-year-old finds the word “fart” amusing regardless of the context.
The comedian was Ari Shaffir, a nationally known figure. The show was sold out, and the initial warm-up acts were passable; I laughed a few times. Then Ari took the stage. From the get-go, he went over the edge, not relying on profanity but attempting to find humor in the most sensitive topics. For some, it worked, but for me, it just seemed that he was trying to find humor in all the wrong places. I didn’t find any of it funny, not even a chuckle.
As the show progressed, Ari took things to a new low I hadn’t witnessed before, making jokes about disabled children. I was stunned. Could people genuinely take pleasure in mocking a child with Down syndrome? Apparently, many did, laughing heartily. Some, like me, didn’t find it amusing. One person even stood up, yelled something at him, and walked out.
The show left me numb, feeling like I had entered a dystopian reality. Looking around, it struck me that I was at the Vilar in Beaver Creek in 2024, having just witnessed a comedian make jokes about disabled children. Trying to push it out of my mind, my friend and I chalked it up to two hours of our lives we’d never get back.
Support Local Journalism
That night, I struggled to sleep, disturbed by the impact the show had on me. My wife and I adopted two special needs children, so I’m intimately aware of the challenges they face. However, my unease went beyond personal connection; I just couldn’t fathom how people found joking about a child’s disability humorous. Is there better fun — perhaps jokes about torturing puppies?
I spoke to a representative at the Vilar who acknowledged my concerns but defended their choice, mentioning that they occasionally book guests that “challenge audiences.” Reflecting on this, I wondered if “challenge” could be cut both ways. Typically, a challenge involves improvement or reaching a goal. I never considered reaching a new low in depravity as a challenge worth undertaking. The representative also highlighted that Ari “pushes the border.” My only question is, “Do we want the border moved to where it’s acceptable to ridicule disabled people?”
Want the news to come to you? Get the top stories in your inbox every morning. Sign up here: VailDaily.com/newsletter
For future performances, I recommend that the Vilar issue a warning that shows like this are for “immature audiences only.” Maturity entails caring about others and having empathy, qualities incompatible with a show of this nature.
I’m disappointed that the Vail Valley Foundation, which operates the Vilar, has such low ethical or moral standards for performers at its venues. If they can fill seats, I guess joking about disabled children is just fine. I understand the arguments about free speech and artistic creativity, but is child cruelty art? Shouldn’t we uphold some basic values, a decency threshold we refuse to breach? If this doesn’t cross the line, then I’m not sure what does.
Mark Lewis, a Colorado native, had a long career in technology, including serving as the CEO of several tech companies. He’s now retired and writes thriller novels. Mark and his wife, Lisa, and their two Australian Shepherds — Kismet and Cowboy, reside in Edwards.
