“I never say this explicitly, Henry… but don’t,” John Mulaney says to an 11-year-old boy in the crowd. The comedian is warning Henry off drugs—cocaine in particular—and setting up the major themes of his new Netflix special Baby J. The last few years have been a roller-coaster for Mulaney featuring a “star-studded intervention”, rehab, a divorce, a very publicly documented relationship with actress Olivia Munn, and newfound fatherhood.

Fans have been eagerly waiting for Mulaney to address all of these major events on his return to the stage, but on Baby J, the comedian compartmentalises. The breakdown of his marriage and the personal drama stay out of the script, which focuses on Mulaney dissecting his years of drug use and abuse, a sober ex-addict baffled by his own decision-making and actions. These are difficult topics to deal with, but we already know that Mulaney has the comedic nous to turn personal tragedy into comedy gold. That’s exactly what you get in this 80-minute special. 

The show opens quite unexpectedly, a dark screen giving way to Mulaney already mid-anecdote as the camera pans behind him to reveal the Symphony Hall in Boston. After warming up the crowd with a few throwaway jokes about siblings and attention-seeking kids, he girds his loins and turns his attention to his battle with addiction.

Mulaney has never kept his relationship with drugs and alcohol a secret. He’s joked about it in the past, although those jokes hit differently now that we know exactly how troubled he was. In his 2012 special New Town, for example, Mulaney talks about a botched attempt at tricking a doctor into giving him a Xanax prescription. But now drug use or addiction isn’t just a cool way to add some transgressive frisson to the set. Baby J is all about hitting rock-bottom, with the added stress of a pandemic and lockdown to keep things fresh. Nor does Mulaney offer up fun little digressions about politic or pop culture to lighten the mood, as a comedic safety valve.

There are also some noticeable differences in Mulaney’s delivery. The breakneck speed with which he used to dish out jokes is gone. On Baby J we see a more composed and confident comedian, never too eager to get to the laughs. On the contrary, there are moments where he simply sets up the joke, and the audience is already waiting for him at the punchline. But he gets there slowly, gradually, almost teasing the audience before picking up speed again. It’s almost like a progressive rock song where you never quite know what time signature he’s going to launch into.

There are multiple high points throughout the special, particularly while talking about his intervention. “All comedians, yet no one said a funny thing the entire night,” he reminisces. Another highlight comes when a nurse gets bamboozled into thinking that Oscar-winner Al Pacino is checking in on Mulaney in rehab. Spoiler alert, it was Pete Davidson. Apparently, Mulaney has a habit of saving Davidson’s number under the names of different celebrities, because he keeps changing it so often.

“What, are you going to cancel John Mulaney? I’ll kill him. I almost did.”

Mulaney is aware that the “nice guy” image he had—whether he wanted it or not—is a thing of the past. He’s aware that a lot of fans might not relate to this side of him, an addict who went to great lengths just to get his fix. Someone who would do a gram off of a baby-changing station on his way to rehab. He’s aware of the repercussions telling these stories might have. “What, are you going to cancel John Mulaney? I’ll kill him. I almost did.” But in losing that image, he’s also found the freedom to be a more uncensored version of himself. “Likeability is a prison,” he says. 

Despite the intimacy of the subject matter, Mulaney always keeps us at an arm’s distance. Sure, we might know that he bought a Rolex only to pawn it off immediately for some cocaine. But right after recounting the story, Mulaney says, “As you process and digest how obnoxious, wasteful and unlikeable that story is, just remember, that’s one I’m willing to tell you.” Which makes you wonder, how much of it do we really know? Social media has created this illusion of proximity with our favourite celebrities.

We see their “flawless” lives as they curate them on the ‘Gram. People tend to take everything at face value, building up a faultless image of their idols. But the truth is often quite different, as we’ve seen in the past decade, with some of the biggest comedy legends falling from grace. On his way up, Mulaney became the poster boy for para-social relationships with his dapper suits, charm and solid marriage. Now that some of that has fallen apart, he’s not afraid to address his mistakes and shatter those illusions.

Baby J is an introspective special that offers a rare behind-the-scenes peek into one of pop culture’s most beloved story archetypes: the former angel, now fallen into disgrace. With disarming honesty and charm, Mulaney dissects his own nice-guy persona, conducting a final autopsy before its final burial. And out of that process steps a new John Mulaney, no longer a saccharine-sweet good Catholic boy, a little darker, a little wilder. But still with the same zealous commitment—almost like a second addiction—to the art of eliciting laughs from the audience. It’s the comeback we all hoped to see from a comedian we’ve come to know and admire.