When Netflix decided to roast Kevin Hart, they were chasing the ghost of their Tom Brady roast success. But here’s the thing: not every roast is created equal, and not every roastee is a GOAT. Personally, I think the Hart roast felt like a misstep from the start, and it’s not just because Hart isn’t Brady. What makes this particularly fascinating is how Netflix seems to have misunderstood the formula that made the Brady roast work. It wasn’t just about the star power; it was about the cultural moment, the surprise elements, and the genuine chaos that felt organic. The Hart roast, on the other hand, felt manufactured, almost forced, like Netflix was trying to replicate lightning in a bottle without understanding the chemistry behind it.
The Problem with Overcooking a Comedian
Kevin Hart is everywhere. Movies, ads, comedy specials—the man is a hustle machine. But here’s the irony: his omnipresence might be his downfall. In my opinion, Hart has been roasted so many times—from the Brady roast to Funny AF—that the jokes feel stale. It’s like serving leftovers for the third time; even if it was good the first time, you’re just tired of it. What many people don’t realize is that a roast needs fresh material, and Hart’s scandals, height jokes, and corporate sponsorships have been picked clean. Even his DUI and cheating scandals, which Brady brought up, felt like reheated gossip. If you take a step back and think about it, Hart isn’t a GOAT in comedy—he’s a workhorse, and there’s a difference.
The Chaos That Wasn’t
One thing that immediately stands out is how the Hart roast tried to manufacture chaos. The surprise appearances by Katt Williams and Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson were clearly meant to inject energy, but it felt more like a desperate attempt to salvage the show. What this really suggests is that Netflix was aware the roast was falling flat and needed a Hail Mary. Compare that to the Brady roast, where Bill Belichick’s appearance felt genuinely unexpected and culturally significant. The Hart roast’s chaos wasn’t organic; it was staged, and the audience could tell. A detail that I find especially interesting is how even the Williams sisters’ presentation of the GOAT ring felt awkward, almost like an afterthought. It’s as if Netflix was checking boxes rather than creating moments.
The Comedians Who Stole the Show
Here’s where it gets interesting: the Hart roast wasn’t a total loss. Pete Davidson and Sheryl Underwood emerged as unexpected highlights. Davidson, who’s often criticized for his dating history and 9/11 jokes, delivered a sharp line about Hart’s Riyadh Comedy Festival appearance that landed perfectly. Underwood, meanwhile, tore into Tony Hinchcliffe with a ferocity that earned her a standing ovation. What makes this particularly fascinating is how these moments felt genuine, unscripted, and raw—everything the rest of the roast wasn’t. In my opinion, these two comedians saved the show from being a complete disaster, but it’s telling that the best parts of the roast had nothing to do with Hart himself.
The Missed Opportunities
If you take a step back and think about it, Netflix had so many better options. Dave Chappelle, for instance, was at the same festival but wasn’t involved in the Hart roast. Why? Chappelle is a true GOAT in comedy, and a roast of him would’ve been electric. Or, if they wanted spectacle, they could’ve roasted Louis CK, whose controversial return to comedy would’ve sparked endless debate. What this really suggests is that Netflix played it safe with Hart, and it backfired. Hart isn’t controversial enough to be interesting, nor is he revered enough to warrant a GOAT-level roast. He’s just… there.
The Future of Roasts
This raises a deeper question: What does it take for a roast to succeed in 2024? Personally, I think it’s about more than just the roastee. It’s about the cultural moment, the comedians involved, and the willingness to take risks. The Brady roast worked because it felt like an event, a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle. The Hart roast felt like a cash grab. If Netflix wants to keep the roast format alive, they need to stop chasing past successes and start thinking about what makes a roast truly memorable. From my perspective, it’s not about the biggest name—it’s about the biggest potential for chaos, humor, and cultural relevance.
Final Thoughts
The Kevin Hart roast wasn’t a total failure, but it wasn’t a success either. It was a middling attempt to recapture the magic of the Brady roast, and it fell short. What many people don’t realize is that roasts are as much about the audience’s expectations as they are about the jokes. We wanted something bold, something unexpected, and what we got was a safe, overlong production that felt more like a Hart stand-up special than a roast. In my opinion, Netflix should’ve known better. But then again, maybe that’s the real joke—we’re the ones who kept watching.
