There’s a maxim that the difference between a comedian and a comic is that a comedian says funny things, and a comic says things funny. Then there are clowns — like Bill Maher. He traded his red nose for a big brown one the second he eagerly walked into President Trump’s gaudy White Fun House of deception.
Maher, the comic who once fancied himself a fearless political truth-teller, is now wobbling under the weight of his own ego. His recent televised monologue — an extended love letter to his dinner with Trump — was less a political reflection than a highlight reel of self-flattery and unearned gravitas.
Maher bragged that he had dinner with Trump — “a dinner that was set up by my friend Kid Rock.” Yes, when your access to the leader of the free world is coordinated by a rap-rock-country novelty act — a man who has assaulted a strip-club DJ, waved Confederate flags and hurled homophobic slurs at his own fans — you might want to reevaluate your choices. But Maher treated it like an RSVP to the Met Gala.
“I’m not the leader of anything,” Maher proclaimed, “except maybe a contingent of centrist-minded people who think there’s got to be a better way of running this country than hating each other every minute.”
In his own narcissistic head, Maher envisions himself as the messiah of moderates. Seriously? There are real centrist leaders out there — legislators, governors, community organizers — people who have actually done something for policy improvements.
Maher assured his audience, “What I’m gonna do is report exactly what happened,” as though he were offering some kind of groundbreaking journalism. Right. Because when we think of trustworthy, hard-hitting reporting, we immediately picture … Bill Maher — the guy who pauses his own punchlines to flirt with Megyn Kelly.
Maher’s White House visit wasn’t reporting. It was the equivalent of watching TMZ try to cover the Geneva Convention.
He even tried to humanize Trump by declaring, “I’ve never seen him laugh in public. But he does, including at himself. And it’s not fake. Believe me, as a comedian of 40 years, I know a fake laugh when I hear it.”
Although Maher has never held elected office, never written legislation, never studied foreign policy or constitutional law, he is indeed an expert in fake laughter. If you’ve ever heard the sweetened, over-enthusiastic studio audience guffaws that accompany his weekly monologues, it’s undeniable that nobody is more familiar with fake laughs.
Maher also made sure to point out that he corrected Trump the night before, when the president tweeted that Maher was critical of “all things Trump.”
“Not true,” Maher said. “Check the tapes. Moving Israel’s embassy to Jerusalem? Loved it.” Though Maher conveniently forgot to mention the Palestinian children getting bombed in the process. Trump didn’t just invite Maher in — he handed him a gold-plated mic and watched him croon the MAGA anthem.
“I never felt I had to walk on eggshells,” Maher said, adding that, “I voted for Clinton and Obama but I would never feel comfortable talking to them the way I was able to talk with Donald Trump.”
Of course he didn’t. Obama and Clinton are highly educated, deeply experienced and fluent in more than crowd work. What would Maher possibly talk about? “Hey Barack, loved your work on health care reform — now here’s what I think about smoking weed and cancel culture.”
Maher’s big “gotcha” moment came when he told Trump, “You’re scaring people. Do you really want to be scaring your own citizens so much?”
The kicker? “And what did he say to that? Honestly, I don’t remember.”
Ah yes, the big, dramatic moment — the grand gesture where the brave truth-teller confronts the tyrant — and he forgets? This isn’t journalism, it’s fan fiction.
In the end, Maher wasn’t just played by Trump — he allowed himself to get strung up like a marionette, tossing out softball observations in exchange for the illusion of relevance. Maybe he wanted to be the courageous centrist who tames the beast. Instead, he was the rubber-nosed fool dancing for a Big Mac at the end of Trump’s table.
If there’s one thing more disturbing than Trump’s delusions of grandeur, it’s seeing Maher nodding along, hoping for a laugh or two — while the rest of us are stuck watching Trump crash his circus tent down on democracy.
Hugh Fink is an Emmy Award-winning comedian and former writer for “Saturday Night Live.” He has served as executive producer for the Writers Guild Awards and teaches comedy writing at Harvard University, Chapman University and Emerson College.
