stand-up

Comedian Becky Robinson’s life has turned into the most insanely fun reality show. One minute she’s screaming into a closet mirror, feeling defeated back in her parents’ house, and a few viral moments later, she’s on The Members Only tour, zipping around country clubs in Oakleys with her tricked-out Streetrod Golf Cart, “sauvi B,” and a sun visor clamped on her blond bob like it’s couture. Her bestie Trish is one call away, her kids Macabee and Dashiell are wrecking the house, her husband Scott isn’t listening (shocker), but her fans-turned-friends, the “Gieurlz,” are. Welcome to the world of the Entitled Housewife. No fancy membership required here because none of it is real, but it’s all so real.

Every story, and character, has a beginning and before she was taking rides on custom carts, she was riding an emotional roller coaster during the pandemic. “So during the pandemic I was with my sister, and she was working at an ER,” says Robinson. “She was in the trenches trying to help people and coming home and you know, might die, and I was terrified because she was coming home from work every day and — who knows? I grew up around Portland, so I had packed up my wigs to go there in case I was going to have a proper ‘Menty-B’ [mental breakdown]. Then even she was like, why don’t you go to mom and dad’s and try to find some form of happiness. So many people were depressed during that time, but I didn’t realize how much I needed to perform.”

While she was stuck at a low point, her parents were somehow in peak vacation mode. “My dad was like, ‘Golf is all we have! You know, we’re golfing all day,’” Becky says, impersonating her father. “He was wearing a golf glove on both hands, kind of like COVID protection, and he’s like, ‘Yeah, I’m doing my part, you know, I’m not wearing a mask, but I got a golf glove on both hands!’”

Becky Robinson takes the stage as the Entitled Housewife

(Megan Rego)

Her mom shared the same sentiment — not for double-fisting gloves — but she too needed to live. “My mom has kind of been through it health-wise, and so she was like, ‘I don’t want to be locked down. I want to go to happy hour with the gieurlz.’ I just sat there and watched them like, you guys are out of your f— minds. Then one day they left the house, and I just felt inspired. So I put a wig on.”

Robinson went into her parents’ closet and dressed herself in a polo, a skort and a visor. “I put on the Oakleys and the Air Pods and the second I looked in the mirror, I just started improvising. She was like, SCOTT! DASHIELL! MACABEE! [My character] had this element of, she could get frustrated very fast.”

That day, in her parents’ closet, Robinson turned lemons into hard lemonade, and with a visor high on her head like a regal crown, a new version of herself emerged — an entitled one. “I improvised for, like, five hours in character. It might have been a manic episode, I don’t know, but I just remember when the whole thing was assembled that day and I started filming, it was making me laugh and I was like, maybe it’ll make someone else laugh too.”

Initially, she hadn’t planned on posting videos of her in character on TikTok but considering how much she was making herself laugh, it was only a matter of time.

“When I made the first , I was like, ‘I can’t post this. It’s dark times and I’m going to look like such a fool for trying to be funny.’ But then I took an edible and showed my sister to see if it made her laugh because I figured she’s experiencing it every day, in the middle of it, and she told me to post it.”

The debut video of Entitled Housewife got millions of views on social media. As it would turn out, other people needed to laugh at the exact same time. “All these celebrities started messaging me and then Chris Pratt DM’d me and is like, ‘If you make a movie with these characters, I have to be Scott!’”

Robinson’s parents weren’t quite as enthusiastic when she showed them her content for the first time. “I think my dad walked out and my mom was like, ‘You know, Beck, this hits a little close to home.’ She was actually pissed at first because I used the real name of my dad’s country club, and it was so vulgar, so she was worried about him getting kicked out.”

Fast forward to now, and many of these types of golf clubs have booked her for shows and actually pay for her to be vulgar. “So they love it now!,” Robinson said. “People come up to my dad in the store like, ‘Are you Entitled’s dad?!’ He definitely loves the perks because he’s a huge golfer.”

“Some people really think I’m this 50-year-old golf lady with kids, and I think a lot of people think that I started when my character started,” Robinson said.

(Megan Rego)

With her family on board and fans worldwide cheering her on, she’s taking off the wig and going back to her stand-up, but with a touch of Entitlement. Shot at the Wilbur Theatre in Boston, her debut comedy special, “Becky Robinson: Entitled,” comes out Friday exclusively on her website and shines a massive spotlight on the fact that Robinson has never needed to lean on props to be funny.

“We’re definitely excited to be releasing on our own platform with entire creative control. The team I work with is so bad ass and they’re really the reason it was all brought to life. I wanted something to give to the fans, and I wanted them to be able to watch it without ads. I want them to see how much they lift me up, so I’m excited to get to release this exactly the way we want it. You know, it’s a little longer than an hour, which streamers don’t like, but the Gieurlz will.”

Robinson has been doing stand-up for 13 years, and that experience shows the second she hits any stage (or bar top). In “Entitled,” you see her stand-up carries the same raw, fearless charge that made her Entitled Housewife sketches a phenomenon. Similar, yet clearly distinct, the two share a flair for the dramatic and an energy that feels almost superhuman. “People are always asking, is it drugs? IS IT?,” Robinson laughs. “In the last couple of years, I got this trainer who is like, ‘You gotta treat this like you’re a professional athlete, OK, because that’s what you’re doing up there!’ For a while, I never listened because we were having fun and it’s just stand-up! And for the first couple of years of touring I would have some drinks and stuff, but now, we’re playing at a level where there are acrobatics involved and cues and high kicks and all these things where injury is very possible. Still, though, when I go out there, I just can’t give them anything less than 200%. Then when I get home, I sleep for 24 hours and then, I’m a person again.”

Should there still be any confusion about Robinson versus Entitled Housewife, in addition to her special, she also released a 30-minute documentary that goes behind the scenes of “Becky Robinson: Entitled.” Also available on her website, Robinson couldn’t be more grateful for her Gieurlz who make this world of hers possible, even if some of them think she’s a bit “seasoned.”

“It took me a while to realize that people see videos and just buy tickets, and that they didn’t even know I was this person who’s done stand-up for 13 years,” says Robinson. “Some people really think I’m this 50-year-old golf lady with kids, and I think a lot of people think that I started when my character started. I feel my funniest when I’m doing characters, and I love that people come out dressed like Entitled, but now more and more people are saying they came for the character, and now they like my stand-up too. You love to hear that so that’s been really great!”

“I wanted something to give to the fans,” Robinson said about her new special. “I want them to see how much they lift me up, so I’m excited to get to release this exactly the way we want it.”

(Tara Johnson)

In no way does that signal the end of the fun with Entitled. This fall, Robinson is taking her skort-wearing alter ego global with her very own golf tournament. From Nov. 6 to Nov. 9, “She Gone Golfing: The Entitled Housewife Tulum Classic” hits the PGA Riviera Maya, Mexico’s No.1-ranked course, with PXG backing the madness. It’s a full-blown Gieurlz escape with golf by day, and karaoke-fueled chaos by night in Mexico’s Riviera Maya.

“This trip is probably gonna take years off my life, but we’re gonna turn it up in Mexico, baby! Let’s get international! We’re gonna get that tequila flowing!” Though the idea of being a golfer may have started out as a joke for Robinson, she’s now become fully addicted to the sport.

“It’s such a fun game and it can relax you when you’re just out there waxing those balls! I really want to introduce more people to it so this will be a fun way to do that. The only reason I’m able to do all of these things is because of the fans coming to see the show, buying the merch, and showing up in the visors. They really are the best!”

The first time Atsuko Okatsuka filmed a comedy special, 2022’s “The Intruder” for HBO and Max, she didn’t have health insurance. A lot has changed since then.

Instantly recognizable for her severe bowl haircut and “art teacher”-esque, maximalist fashion, the Los Angeles-based comedian has since become insured, hired an assistant, embarked on a world tour, amassed more than two million Instagram followers, met family members she didn’t know she had and filmed her second comedy special, “Father,” which was released June 13 on Hulu.

“I think I have, like, 12 agents or something, and I’m like, ‘Is that even a thing?’” Okatsuka says over Zoom. Wearing a purple, yellow and magenta colorblocked T-shirt, Okatsuka flashes aqua nails topped off with hot dog charms. “It comes with leveling up, right? Not to quote ‘Spider-Man,’ but … yeah, responsibility, right?”

The building blocks of Okatsuka’s life remain in place, though. Amid traveling the globe on her “Full Grown” tour, being interviewed by Stephen Colbert on “The Late Show” and Chelsea Handler on “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” and being named one of Variety’s Top 10 Comics to Watch in 2022 (among other accolades), the Taiwanese Japanese stand-up still spends most of her time with her Grandma Li, her mother, and husband Ryan Harper Gray, who is an actor, director and producer and helps manage Okatsuka. Family members feature prominently in Okatsuka’s comedy, to such an extent that a lot of her sentences begin with “My grandmother…” and “My husband, Ryan…”

“I am an open book in that I truly want to connect with people,” Okatsuka says. “I’m just gonna end up telling you what’s happening in my life. That’s the only way I can try to connect with other humans.”

(Mary Ellen Matthews / Disney)

In this respect, Okatsuka jokingly refers to herself as codependent, but from a comedy standpoint, her familial riffing serves as a handy world-building device, building a sense of familiarity with audiences, who no doubt walk out of Okatsuka’s sets feeling like they really know her. “I am an open book in that I truly want to connect with people,” she says. “I’m just gonna end up telling you what’s happening in my life. That’s the only way I can try to connect with other humans. It just naturally happens to be that I am with my mom, grandma and Ryan a lot. I love that the fans have gotten to know the family. They can be Team Ryan. They could be Team Me. I think most often they’re Team Ryan. They’re like, ‘Oh, Atsuko did it again. She can’t find her keys.’”

Okatsuka’s scatterbrained qualities — like losing her keys, realizing she’s never once used the washer and dryer and depending on Gray to set up her Zoom calls — are not only endearing, they also have informed her special’s title of “Father.” As Okatsuka’s star rose, her fans have taken to calling her “Mother,” a mostly Gen Z slang term signaling approval. But to Okatsuka, a “mother” knows how to do things like use the washer and dryer and fill out paperwork correctly, which she remains willfully ignorant about. For example, she frequently tells a story about how she and Gray forgot to file their marriage certificate when they first got married in 2017. When Okatsuka went to put Gray on her health insurance in 2023, she learned there was no record of them being married. “What about the unorganized girls?” she asks her audience. “What about the b— that crumbles easily? We exist! We are not a monolith… No, no, no… I am Father.”

While Okatsuka has been doing stand-up for the better part of a decade, starting out with local sets at the Virgil and Dynasty Typewriter, she shot to viral fame during the pandemic when she posted a video of her (and her grandmother) suddenly “dropping” to Beyoncé’s “Yoncé” in unexpected locations like Little Tokyo and the grocery store. Generating millions of views, the #DropChallenge exploded, with everyone from Mandy Moore to Serena Williams emulating Okatsuka.

In addition to classic observational and absurdist comedy, part of Okatsuka’s charm is also that she has a real knack for tapping into internet humor. Across her social media channels, she dances and puts her own spin on TikTok skits and trends. A recent example is a clip of her doing Doechii’s “Anxiety” dance while her grandmother hovers in an attempt to feed her dumplings.

While “Father” is a self-deprecating jab at Okatsuka’s nondomestic qualities, the title also refers to Okatsuka’s recent reunion with her dad in Japan. This marks the beginning of a winding life journey, which Okatsuka has spoken of at length in her comedy, as well as in an episode of “This American Life” titled “I Coulda Grown Big In Japan.”

Her story began when Okatsuka’s parents, who met on a Japanese dating show, divorced shortly after her birth in 1988. At first, the comedian lived with her father in Chiba; later, she moved in with her mother and grandmother. But when her mother began having mental health struggles (Okatsuka’s mother was later diagnosed with schizophrenia), Okatsuka’s grandmother moved everyone to Los Angeles to be closer to her uncle in West L.A. At the time, Okatsuka’s grandmother told an 8-year-old Okatsuka they were going on a “two-month vacation.” But as eight weeks turned into years, Okatsuka started to wonder if perhaps she’d been kidnapped — another concept she’s worked into her sets. “We’re just like a chiller, more polite, Japanese ‘Jerry Springer’ show,” Okatsuka cracks of her familial backstory.

When asked what it meant to reconnect with her father, Okatsuka becomes somber. “It filled a lot of holes — like, questions that I had. Like, did my grandma kidnap me? I also learned your gut is often right.”

Technically, Okatsuka was kidnapped, if only because her father had full custody of her at the time. Okatsuka might joke about suffering from Stockholm syndrome, but she really is best friends with her grandma, who was her primary caregiver in childhood and now has her own social media fan base.

“That’s why I got into comedy,” Atsuko says. “So that other people can feel seen, and I feel seen too.”

(Lee Jameson)

Ironically, it didn’t occur to Okatsuka to pursue comedy until she was in her early 20s. Her first exposure to stand-up was when, in eighth grade, a friend slipped her a Margaret Cho DVD during a church sermon. “I was like, this is badass. But nowhere did my brain go, ‘That’s gotta be me,’” Okatsuka says. “I dreamed pretty small. When I was a kid in L.A., my dream was to work at an ice cream parlor … And then at 17, I did. [I worked at] Cold Stone Creamery in West L.A. I said, ‘Now what? I’ve already reached my goal. I peaked at 17. I have to dream more.’”

Okatsuka spent a year and a half attending UC Riverside and then transferred to CalArts, where she majored in creative writing and film/video. “You can just get in with an art portfolio; you don’t need grades,” she deadpans. “My interest was in the arts. I wasn’t an academic.” After art school, Okatsuka decided to really make a go at stand-up amid juggling a handful of jobs — dog walking, teaching cinema at College of the Canyons in Santa Clarita and dance fitness in Atwater Village. “But stand-up comedy was always first for me,” she says. “Sometimes I would, you know, take off from teaching community college and get Ryan to substitute for me. It was totally illegal.”

In 2018, Okatsuka got her now-signature bowl haircut, which has made her so recognizable that fans all over the world show up to her sets wearing bowl-cut wigs. She might kid around about being stuck with it (“because my brand,” she says in “Father”), but she really does delight in its permanence, simply because it makes people so happy. Plus, her fans went to the trouble of buying and customizing lookalike wigs. “I mean, in this economy? They gotta be able to wear their wigs again the next time they come to see me.”

Fans will get their chance to break out the wigs again. After “Father”, Okatsuka is heading back on the road in September for the Big Bowl Tour. But there’s a bittersweet element to Okatsuka’s always-expanding schedule. The busier she gets, the less time there is to spend with her mother and grandmother. “The point of all this is we can all be together more, and we could be that happy family that we were trying to be when we first moved to America,” she says. “That’s kind of what I’m talking about in my new show. It’s a real thing that I’m figuring out right now.”

For the time being, Okatsuka has signed her mother up for Instagram, where she can see her daughter anytime she likes. “It’s taking a minute to teach her these things, but at least she can look at what I’m up to,” Okatsuka says. “You just click on my face, and you see what I’m up to that day. And that’s how she keeps up with me. We can do phone calls, but there’s nothing like being able to see your favorite person in your hand.”

Ultimately, Okatsuka revels in the opportunity to connect with as many people as possible, wherever she might be in the world. “That’s why I got into comedy, right? So that other people can feel seen, and I feel seen too.”

In its landmark 50th season, “Saturday Night Live” had a lot going for it: a huge cast of performers with a diverse toolbox of styles and talents, a fine assortment of musical guests (Chappell Roan! Stevie Nicks! Timothée Chalamet?) and celebratory events across multiple channels for its half-century anniversary. And it had “Lorne” (the biography), of course; creator Lorne Michaels still runs the ship.

But on a week-to-week basis, it was the guest hosts who set the tone and helped make or break a particular episode. A great host, one who is game and enthusiastic and eager to play, such as Paul Mescal or Ariana Grande, could elevate an episode way beyond expectations. An otherwise talented guest host having an off week or who was underserved by the material, like Chris Rock or Mikey Madison, reminds you that nothing is certain with “SNL.” And an outright bad host (see the bottom) can make the 90-minute show seem interminable and out of touch.

Now, let us celebrate the hosts who got it right, brought their A-game, benefited from great sketch writing and support from the cast and crew. Here are the best hosts of Season 50, ranked.

1. Lady Gaga, March 8

Ready to roll: Lady Gaga and Marcello Hernández in the sketch “A Long Goodbye.”

(Will Heath/NBC)

It was one of “SNL’s” weirdest episodes, but perfectly tuned for Gaga, who sang in multiple sketches, appeared in mock ads for L’Oreal easy-run mascara and little red glasses for women of a certain age, served at a Satanic restaurant, and memorably rode her rolling luggage to the airport. Not only was she funny and brilliant in the sketches, but she also gave two of the season’s most dynamic musical performances with “Abracadabra” and “Killah.”

2. Ariana Grande, Oct. 12

“Twist and shout”: Andrew Dismukes, left, Maya Rudolph, Ariana Grande and Andy Samberg in “Castrati.”

(Will Heath/NBC)

It was her third time hosting, but it was somehow still a complete surprise how spectacular Grande was in her run-up to the release of “Wicked.” Perfect impressions of Celine Dion and Jennifer Coolidge and a ridiculously wrong (and very funny) sketch called “Castrati” were among the highlights of a top-to-bottom ace appearance.

3. Jack Black, April 5

“Happiness is a disease”: Jack Black and Michael Longfellow in the “Goth Kid on Vacation” sketch.

(NBC/Holland Rainwater/NBC)

Like Gaga, the star of “A Minecraft Movie” danced and sang multiple times, most notably in a brief My Chemical Romance homage, “Goth Kid on Vacation.” Sometimes good hosting is about bringing lots of energy and commitment; Black went above and beyond on both counts in a wild “Flamin’ Hot Preparation H” commercial.

4. Quinta Brunson, May 3

They found OnlySeniors: Quinta Brunson and Kenan Thompson in the “Life Insurance” sketch.

(NBC/Leanne Diaz/NBC)

Don’t call it recency bias. The “Abbott Elementary” creator and star returned a year after her first-time hosting and once again flexed short-form comedy muscles that made her an online star before TV stardom. Brunson brilliantly played a senior on an OnlyFans-like service, an increasingly punchy insult boxer and a very creative hand gesturer in a follow-up to the classic “Traffic Altercation” sketch.

5. John Mulaney, Nov. 2

John Mulaney in the “Beppo” sketch, about a doomed chimp astronaut.

(Chinaza Ajuonuma/NBC)

It may have been overshadowed by a Kamala Harris appearance right before the 2024 presidential election, but Mulaney’s sixth time as host was just as solid as the rest with a predictably excellent monologue, a silly sketch about a doomed chimp astronaut and another epic Broadway-inspired musical revue about New York City. It’s easy to forget how consistently excellent the “Everybody’s Live” host is at fronting “Saturday Night Live.”

6. Paul Mescal, Dec. 7

Jane Wickline, left, Bowen Yang, Paul Mescal, Michael Longfellow, Mikey Day and Kenan Thompson turn “Gladiator II” into a musical.

(Chinaza Ajuonuma/NBC)

A great hosting debut for the actor, who was the perfect Daddy in a “Please Don’t Destroy” sketch and very funny in a “Gladiator II” musical.

7. Nate Bargatze, Oct. 5

A Founding Father returns: James Austin Johnson, left, Nate Bargatze and Kenan Thompson during the “Washington’s Dream 2” sketch.

(Will Heath/NBC)

Maybe it didn’t hit the dizzying heights of his 2023 hosting debut, but the sophomore appearance from the stand-up had some solid sketches, including another visit with George Washington.

8. Walton Goggins, May 10

This waiter really likes your mom: Sarah Sherman, left, Walton Goggins and Heidi Gardner in the “Mother’s Day Brunch” sketch.

(NBC/Will Heath/NBC)

The “White Lotus” star delighted as a horny Mother’s Day brunch server and a boss with a Squatty Potty in his first time as host.

9. Scarlett Johansson, May 17

“I’m scared of her”: Marcello Hernández, left, Bad Bunny, Scarlett Johansson and Ego Nwodim in the “Couple at the Bar” sketch.

(NBC/Will Heath/NBC)

The season finale host started strong, took off perfectly in an air travel-themed “Please Don’t Destroy” video and was game for a brutal “Weekend Update” joke exchange. But the back half of the episode was so rough even a Marvel superhero couldn’t save it.

10. Jon Hamm, April 12

“What if we took all the fluoride out of the drinking water?”: Jon Hamm as Robert F. Kennedy Jr. in the “White Potus” sketch.

(NBC/Holland Rainwater/NBC)

Hamm, hosting for the fourth time, was spot-on with turns as a self-defeating game show contestant and a police officer obsessed with pizza. The other sketches just weren’t as strong this time.

The rest

11. Jean Smart, Sept. 28
12. Bill Burr, Nov. 9
13. Martin Short, Dec. 21
14. Timothée Chalamet (also as a musical guest performing Bob Dylan covers), Jan. 25
15. Charli XCX, Nov. 16
16. Michael Keaton, Oct. 19
17. Dave Chappelle, Jan. 18
18. Mikey Madison, March 29
19. Chris Rock, Dec. 14

Please, never again

A year after a not-great first run as “SNL” host, Shane Gillis, the stand-up comic who was famously fired from the show was invited back. Why? To appeal to anti-woke dudebros who wouldn’t otherwise watch the show? We’re not sure, but Gillis’ range for sketch comedy runs the gamut from low-energy unfunny to medium-low-energy unfunny. The host’s brand also gave the show ostensible permission to push the envelope on stereotypes and gross tropes about race and sex. It even indulged in some slow-witted crudeness about self-fellatio. Two times was plenty; Gillis doesn’t need a third crack at this.

I wasn’t expecting a painting of a naked clown to greet me when I FaceTimed Demetri Martin on a Monday afternoon in May. After the longest two seconds of my life, the comedian appeared in front of the camera with an unassuming smile.

For the past few months, Martin has been toiling away in the studio shed designed by his wife, interior designer Rachael Beame Martin, in the backyard of their Beverly Glen home. Lush greenery peeks through the windows above a lattice he constructed to mount canvases of various sizes. His first solo exhibition of paintings and drawings is just days away and he has some finishing touches to make.

Visual art is not new to Martin, a wiz at one-liners who incorporates drawings in his stand-up.

“The cool thing about a drawing is I can share something personal and I can use a graphic to illustrate it more specifically,” he says in “Demetri Deconstructed,” his 2024 Netflix special. In one graph from the special, he plots the inverse relationship between the amount of “past” and “future” time across an individual’s lifespan. The point where “past” and “future” meet is the mid-life existential crisis.

There is a synergy between Martin’s jokes and his sketches, which are more akin to doodles than drawings. Their humor lies in their pared-down specificity. They “make you ponder something on the absurdity-of-life level, which I guess is comedy,” says Martin’s close friend and musician Jack Johnson.

“I brought visual art into my stand-up comedy,” says Demetri Martin. “Can I bring comedy into the visual art world?”

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

With his love of joke crafting, Martin says he represents the comedy old guard as stand-up has become heavily autobiographical in today’s internet age.

“Specifically, it’s jokes that have always attracted me when we’re talking about the comedy world,” Martin says of his aversion to storytelling. “Can you do a joke in 12 words? Can you get an idea across? How much can you take away and it still lands with people?”

“Acute Angles,” Martin’s solo exhibition running Sunday to May 31, takes his obsession with constraint a step further. The experiment: Can you communicate jokes visually without any words?

“I brought visual art into my stand-up comedy,” says Martin, who worked on paintings for two-plus years before he figured he had enough material to fill a gallery. “Can I bring comedy into the visual art world?”

“Acute Angles” — he says the title references the shape of his nose — features large-scale paintings with a unifying color palette of bright red, sky blue and medium gray, in addition to 30 smaller drawings. The paintings depict implausible scenarios: What if the grim reaper slipped on a banana on his way to kill you? What if Superman ripped his underpants on his quest to save you?

The show is a collaboration with his wife, whom he adoringly describes as the muscles of the operation. The two secured a month-long lease of an abandoned yoga studio tucked behind a California Pizza Kitchen in Brentwood. Using her design skills — they met in New York City when she was attending Parsons School of Design and he was pursing comedy — Beame Martin led a rebuild of the studio-turned-gallery.

When Martin’s publicist called to ask if the gallery had a name, the couple turned to Google. They eventually came up with “Laconic Gallery,” for Laconia, Greece, where Martin traces his roots, and because the word laconic perfectly describes Martin’s ethos: marked by the use of few words.

Demetri Martin describes his wife, Rachael Beame Martin, as the muscles of the operation.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

On the day of our interview, Martin is completing the last of 12 paintings for the show and is puzzled why the paint appears differently on the canvas than in the can. He’s trying hard to ensure the color of the naked clown’s pubic hair matches his hair.

The relationship between the viewer and the art is both exciting and scary to Martin. When taking a comedy show on the road, you more or less know your jokes will land, he says. With an art show, there’s more of a vacuum between him and the audience, yet the conceit remains: the show is meant to be funny.

But whether viewers laugh while visiting the art exhibition almost doesn’t matter. For Martin, the reward has been the process of creation — the meditative zone he sinks into, indie rock oozing from his CD player, as he envisions and re-envisions the work. (Many of the paintings in the show are derived from old sketches.)

The show also represents Martin’s re-emergence from his own mid-life existential crisis. At 51, he is older than his dad was when he died and about the same age as his late mom, when she was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. “So now, is this like bonus time for me?” he started to ask himself in his late 40s.

In some ways, Martin has always been a tortured artist. After graduating from Yale, he attended NYU Law only to drop out after the second year. But New York City is also where he found himself, spending late nights at the Comedy Cellar and the Boston Comedy Club. His days were spent visiting the Museum of Modern Art and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Daydreaming his way through the galleries, jotting jokes in his notepad, is when he first gained an appreciation for the arts.

“He’s not without cynicism once you know him, but where comics so often lead with cynicism, he has this wide-eyed openness, and I think that’s a thread that pulls through all of his work,” says comedian and fellow Comedy Central alum Sarah Silverman.

Demetri Martin’s first solo art exhibition is a collaboration with his wife, Rachael Beame Martin.

(Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

Now, Martin is a father to an 8-year-old daughter and 11-year-old son — the same age he was when manning his Greek family’s shish kebab stand on the Jersey Shore. His self-described anger at seeing the world his kids are growing up in, namely their peers’ obsessions with cell phones, seeps into his paintings and drawings. But ultimately, being a father has irrevocably improved Martin’s perspective on life.

“I think sometimes resignation is also acceptance,” he says, on his new appreciation of midlife. “You’re still motivated, but maybe not in the same way. … You still want to make things, but maybe it doesn’t matter as much, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter. So that’s where I feel like I’m at, where I’m saying, ‘You know what, I’m grateful.’ I understand how lucky I’ve been now.”

He’s not quite done with touring but “Acute Angles” represents a potential escape. If his comedy can travel without him, if he can make money while foregoing lonely nights on the road, he can prioritize more important moments, like playing catch with his son after school. After all, his kids aren’t at the age yet where they hate him — a joke his kids don’t like.

Still, Martin’s art-making mirrors his joke-writing. It’s a numbers game, meticulously filling notebooks in handwriting Silverman describes as “tiny letters all perfectly the same size,” then revisiting and sharpening material until the joke emerges, like a vision.

“It’s really a privilege to have the kind of career where I can try something like this,” Martin says. “I don’t take that for granted anymore.”