In a candid interview, the Lebanese comedian reflects on the evolution of Arabic stand-up, the responsibility of satire in times of crisis, and the future he still sees for Lebanon.
John Achkar, the comedian who is redefining Arabic stand-up with humor based on vulnerability and a critical look at Lebanon in crisis.
An economist by training, a graduate of Sciences Po Paris, and holder of an MBA, nothing destined John Achkar to become one of the essential figures of Middle Eastern stand-up. Yet, from Beirut to Dubai, by way of his consecration on the Shahed platform, the comedian is charting his path with one obsession: abandoning easy jokes at the audience's expense to tell the naked truth, even if it means shaking up the codes of a Lebanese society in perpetual crisis.Filter-Free EncounterThe snowball effect: from MBA to the stage:For many, becoming a comedian is a maturely considered life choice. For you, it looks more like a career accident...I am not even sure I ever made the decision to become a comedian. I rather feel like I endured it! Everything happened through such a natural progression that I never took the time to evaluate this decision. It all started in 2011, during a fundraising project for the scouts: it was the first time I tried stand-up. Then, in 2017, I joined the Awkward Community collective which was launching the local scene in Beirut. When my videos went viral on social media, the snowball effect was immediate and totally unexpected. I had to stop everything I was doing in parallel, without realizing that this was going to become the profession of my life.Interview:
Yet, your academic and professional background destined you for very different circles...(Smile) Absolutely nothing to do with it! I did a bachelor's degree in economics at USJ (Saint Joseph University of Beirut), a master's in international relations with an exchange at Sciences Po Paris, then an MBA shared between Singapore Management University and Madrid. I then worked from 2012 to 2015 in the NGO world, notably for the Danish Refugee Council and Search for Common Ground. I even started my own company, Everything, which designs board games.You also continue to lead leadership workshops in corporate settings. How do these two worlds cohabit?In the beginning, the companies that hired me for facilitation workshops or keynotes told me: "John, please do not mention that you are a comedian, it doesn’t look very professional." Today, the momentum has completely reversed. These same companies demand me precisely because I am a comedian. They understood that this is exactly the vehicle that allows people to connect. For me, art and entrepreneurship go hand in hand. My comedy club is a business in itself, with its management hassles, its menus, its security... I spend 50% of my time doing show business entrepreneurship. You cannot be a comedian in the Arab world today just complaining about the lack of spaces; you have to create your own stage time.The Death of "Crowd-work" and the Choice of Vulnerability"Crowd-work has destroyed a very powerful thing in stand-up: community building. People today think that going to see a show means coming to be intimidated by a comedian."Today you display a very firm position against "crowd-work", this practice which consists of interacting with and mocking the audience in the front row. Why this disillusionment?I am in an open war against crowd-work. It is a shortcut that is too easy. Today, it is enough to mock a spectator, cut the video for TikTok, and you go viral. But this has destroyed the very essence of stand-up. Because of this, people enter the room on the defensive. If you spend your time on social media showing only that, the public comes to see a clash. Then, when they sit down and discover that you do storytelling, they are disappointed. Real stand-up is an hour or an hour and a half of narration. We don't make jokes, we tell stories. Without a deep and personal story to share, it's not stand-up, it's "joke making".You have chosen to replace attack with vulnerability, by talking about your doubts, turning thirty, fatherhood. Is the Arab public ready to see a man crack his armor?Vulnerability is a very recent form of leadership, inspired by figures like Brené Brown. The world is tired of macho, narcissistic leadership, à la Donald Trump. What I try to promote on stage is time for reflection. I go on stage at 35 years old and I say honestly: "Guys, I have no idea what I am doing." I have a two-month-old little girl, I don't know how to manage the end of my tour, and the public appreciates this honesty. People imagine that because you are viral, you have all the answers. It's false. My goal is to build a relationship of trust. If this trust is there, the public follows you everywhere, even onto the slipperiest slopes.The Lebanese Absurd and the Syrian SceneCan one be a happy artist in Lebanon, or is suffering the mandatory fuel for humor?I have often been told that happy people have no story. I don't think that's true, because everyone has problems, whether it's a dispute with a valet parking attendant, an illness, or a war. What changes is the level of reflection that one applies to these problems to extract all their absurdity. If people laugh, it's because they realize that someone else has felt the same absurdity as them regarding what they experience on a daily basis.Your writing sharpened in Beirut before exporting to Dubai in 2021. How do you handle this wide gap between the local audience and the diaspora?
