"Philosophers and comedians are confronted by the same questions": interview with Gad Elmaleh at the Monaco Philosophical Meetings
Erine BLACHE Published on 06/16/2025 at 11:20, updated on 06/16/2025 at 11:45
After an hour and a half discussion on the theme of "Laughter at the Truth," Gad Elmaleh answered some of our questions.
From the beginning of the conversation, as Olivia Gazalé spoke, you listened attentively without intervening. However, some of the audience laughed, as if they weren't taking you seriously. Did this bother or unsettle you?
Ultimately, whether you like it or not, people expect something from you. Tonight, it took a while, it took several minutes before they accepted to see me in the role of a person who is there to exchange, to think like a sociologist or a philosopher, which I am not of course. But I think it's human. I don't find this reaction strange. Besides, it happens to me very often, especially when I discuss with seasoned intellectuals, who have a complex discourse, who write long sentences... People laugh simply because they think I'm going to do something stupid. It's perhaps also a way for them to say: "Don't abandon us"! [laughs] There's a very touching side to it. It's as if they were saying to me "You're staying with us, eh? You're not going to start getting too serious." But it didn't bother me at all. On the contrary, afterwards we were able to enter into something much deeper, into a very interesting exchange.
What do you remember from this philosophical meeting?
One incredible thing I remember is that I deeply feel that comedians and philosophers, even if they don't do exactly the same work, are moved by and preoccupied with the same questions. Those of time, truth, love, violence... And that makes me want to read a little more philosophy, to take a greater interest in it. It's a discipline that intimidates, that scares people because we think it's reserved for a certain elite when it's actually within everyone's reach.
"At this moment, something guides me and concerns me: it is forgiveness."And you, what kind of philosophy student were you?
A good student! It's one of the few classes I remember. I loved Plato's allegory of the cave. I have a memory of a teacher, Michel Dussault, whom I admired. I listened to him with delight. I liked philosophy classes because they allowed me to go a little further into my imagination. I read a few philosophers. Right now, I'm working on the question of time for a sketch and I'm reading what Bergson says on this theme. I'm going to make something funny out of it.
Do you think that we get closer to the truth more easily through humor?
I think it's the opposite. You have to start with the truth to make people laugh. Afterwards, do you really achieve it? I don't know. But in any case, we use this truth to be fair and to describe the world. I think that a comedian who isn't true can't make people laugh. Before, I was more distant, I played characters, I was theatrical... Today, I want to talk to people. Besides, tonight, I want to perform; if there was a comedy club somewhere, I'd go and throw myself in! I was on stage two days ago, but I still want to.
If you have one, what is your philosophy of life?
Right now, there's something that guides me and preoccupies me: forgiveness. Forgiveness to be at peace, to live better, to be serene. But also to stop ruminating. Forgiving people who, yes, have hurt us but who remain human. Afterward, we're not obliged to reconcile, but I need to forgive.
"You have the right to ask yourself "But what is he doing here?" It's completely legitimate." This is one of the first sentences spoken by Gad Elmaleh on Saturday evening at the Princesse-Grace theater in front of an amused audience. He was invited, as part of the PhiloMonaco week, to exchange with Olivia Gazalé, philosopher and author of the book "The Paradox of Laughter" and Mouloud Achour, journalist and television host around a theme as intimate as it is philosophical: "The laughter of truth." And who better than him to explore this subject?
For the first five minutes, he's alone on stage, in his element. Sprinkling his explanations with humor, he briefly discusses the reasons for his presence there and what connects him to philosophy. People laugh, the room relaxes. So much so that, when the other two guests join him and the conversation begins, the bursts of laughter persist. As if the audience had trouble seeing him shift to seriousness. Despite this offbeat start, the exchange quickly gains depth. "Laughter is often the weapon of the weak against the powerful. It can convey opinions, publicize them, bring out things we don't hear... What do you think of that?" Mouloud Achour asks the philosopher.
Answer: "It is a weapon with multiple powers. Laughter can be a weapon of subversion and emancipation by questioning power. And in this case, it can be used by the dominated to challenge oppression, but it has also been, and for much longer, a weapon of domination in the service of power. Throughout history, laughter has often been used as a weapon of social control."
And suddenly, the blond guy's sketch...While more and more of the dominated are seizing laughter to break their chains, the phrase "We can't say anything anymore" is still widespread. And Olivia Gazalé asks , "But who is the "we"? Because if we look at the comedy scene, there are lots of voices that were silenced, including those of women, racialized minorities, homosexuals, who we never saw, who we never heard, who are now taking to the stage. So it's true that today it can appear as a tool in the service of social protest, with this gesture that sociologists call the "reversal of the stigma," which consists of reinterpreting, revisiting the issues of power and reconfiguring the imagination."
Gad Elmaleh immediately responds: "It makes me think of the blond guy's sketch. When I wrote it, I stigmatized him because I wanted to talk about this threat that these people who were perfect put me in. And it didn't start a few years ago, it started in my childhood. I always had the impression of being right next to where I had to be in opposition to the one I call the blond guy."
The fame of this sketch perhaps testifies to one thing: stories are always funnier when they are born from a truth.
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