John Mulaney Is Not Your Friend

Image by Patrick McMullan

I have been a John Mulaney fan for years now. After my college friends introduced me to his comedy specials, I learned to quote New in Town, The Comeback Kid, and Kid Gorgeous by heart. My parents and siblings became big fans, too. Even if John Mulaney’s jokes were slightly inappropriate, his child-like playfulness as a six-foot-tall, lanky man was always something my family could enjoy. His jokes were wholesome. His wife, Anna, and his dog, Petunia, were constant presences in his shows, which painted John Mulaney as a happy-go-lucky comedian with a great marriage and adorable puppy. His charisma made audiences feel welcome, whether viewing his shows in person or on Netflix. Mulaney’s comedic persona is familiar, inviting, intimate. 

I had the pleasure of seeing John Mulaney live two months ago at the Wilbur Theatre in Boston. The Wilbur is a small venue in the Theater District, quite unlike Mulaney’s regular appearances at Radio City and the Chicago Theater. Intimacy was a key figure that night. Mulaney’s team assured privacy for him, as every phone, smartwatch, and recording device was locked in a fabric bag that could only be opened by a special magnet. He walked on stage wearing his typical suit, but the atmosphere was not as lighthearted as with his other shows. Rather, there was a collective understanding of Mulaney’s grave situation. He commemorated it with a smile before he recounted “the worst year of his life.” 

Although “From Scratch” handled serious topics, Mulaney spoke to us like we were old friends. The interaction could have been a conversation over dinner, which surely added to the experience. My friend Sarah and I marveled over our favorite comedian, providing us with funny spins on his difficult year (My personal favorite line of the night: “If I’m such a dumb junkie, then why do I rule?”). He spoke to us about his star-studded intervention (and lamented how he was the funniest person in the room), his trip to rehab (where no one recognized him), and his divorce. 

There was such a strong sense of familiarity between Mulaney and the audience that night, but those feelings dissipated with the show’s conclusion. Sarah and I parted ways in Boston, rejoining reality as we left the theater. John Mulaney likely disappeared into a black SUV, rejoining the celebrity world to which he belonged. We live separate lives from fame, but there is an incessant enthrallment with celebrities. Some engrossment is expected. Other attention teters the line between general interest and parasocial obsession. 

Parasocial relationships were first defined in 1954 as the “illusion of face-to-face [interactions] with the performer…as if they were in the circle of one’s peers.” This connection exists on a spectrum, and for the most part, parasocial relationships reflect “normal social life.” However, this spectrum has extremes. Some people truly believe they have a relationship with a celebrity or public figure. This illusion of intimacy is dangerous for many reasons, both for the individual and the celebrity themselves. 

Authors Donald Horton and R. Richard Wohl were opposed to extreme parasocial relationships. They argued celebrities have the right to privacy, and their public image is often contrived to allow for such solitude. They also pointed out that appreciating a star’s work and performances can come without being personally invested in their private life. 

John Mulaney has been the center of parasocial relationships for many months. His constant media presence for over a year has contributed to this. In December 2020, headlines read John Mulaney had entered rehab and was divorcing his wife, Anna Marie Tendler. Their marriage became a hot topic of discussion online, and people were shocked that John Mulaney, the man known for loving his wife, was getting a divorce. Tendler released a statement in May 2021, citing she was “‘heartbroken that John had decided to end [their] marriage.’” Mulaney’s fans erupted in anger. Their indignation grew when E! Online confirmed Mulaney was dating actress Olivia Munn. Mulaney and Munn are expecting a child together, but there are now rumors the couple has split ahead of their child’s birth. Thus, fans cannot stop expressing their disappointment with John Mulaney’s decisions.

There are many reasons why fans’ anger is unjustly placed. Most importantly, John Mulaney is not your friend. The personality he exhibits on stage or during interviews is not representative of the individual. His divorce is no one’s business but the parties involved. Fans on Twitter certainly do not understand the intricacies of his life from the snippets he has shared in public.

Firstly, he does not owe his fans explanations. John Mulaney has always been grateful for his fan base. He thanked us numerous times at the Wilbur Theater—he seemingly couldn’t express his gratitude enough. But this is often where this transaction ends because that is exactly what a celebrity-fan relationship is: a transaction. Celebrities create a product, whether it be a book, song, movie, stand-up show, or t-shirt. Fans interact with said product, and the transaction is complete. Sometimes, celebrities share their private lives, and fans feel as if they know a little bit more about their idol. They may know a little more, but it is a curated selection of facts. Celebrities know what they are releasing (for the most part) and do it in a systematic, careful fashion, even if it seems sudden to us.

Secondly, John Mulaney does not deserve public scrutiny. After he revealed on Seth Myers’s show that he and Olivia Munn are expecting their first child, Twitter boiled with outrage. TikTok was flooded with creators breaking down the timeline of their relationship, and most people came to the same conclusion: John Mulaney is a cheater, and Olivia Munn is a homewrecker. Parasocial relationships are certainly to blame here. Even though countless celebrities have gotten divorced and had children with other people, fans were hurt. They believed Mulaney to be a certain person and when he didn’t fulfill their prescribed notions of how he should behave and act, fans were left disappointed. Disappointment may be understandable. But he doesn’t owe his fans anything more. 

At the end of the day, John Mulaney is a person, and he is human. All too often, we fault people for making human choices and human mistakes. Maybe the timeline is fishy, but looking into it, examining a relationship one will never really know, is pointless. He has made mistakes in his life, as we all have. This doesn’t make him a bad person. Talking about his wife and dog also doesn’t make him a good person. People are far more complicated than that, and good people can make bad choices, too. He’s a human. It’s time to start treating him like that.

By Anjali Chanda

Vanderbilt student, writer, and constantly watching the stars.