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Marc Maron overshares. For almost seven years now, an ever-expanding audience has heard him talk about himself twice a week on his groundbreaking podcast, WTF With Marc Maron. These personal updates, which sometimes last up to half an hour, precede recorded interviews (or "conversations," as he prefers) with comics, actors, musicians, and other creative types. In his stand-up shows he favors an improvisational, flying-by-the-seat-of-his-pants approach that relies heavily on mining material from his daily life. He's also written several books and is himself a regular guest on talk shows and podcasts. I mention all this to illustrate the fact that not only do people know quite a bit about Maron's life, but that he also likes to talk about his life. A lot.
Maron—the half-hour comedy starring Maron as a somewhat fictionalized version of himself—recently began its fourth (and final) season. Compared to his podcast and live show, Maron has always seemed to be an oddly tentative and polite take on Maron's life. Faithful fans know most of the events that serve as plotlines on the TV show, and they know them in much more detail than it's even possible to present in a half-hour weekly scripted comedy. Maron pioneered a form of confessional talk that can't be conveyed properly under such constraints. Those who've heard him share his every trial and tribulation on the mike can't help but be a little disappointed when they see bits and pieces of his life dramatized in such a circumscribed way.
Comedians have adapted their lives for TV with varying success. Unfortunately, most comics aren't actors; their lifeblood is being themselves in front of a crowd of strangers. Playing someone else—even if it's a version of themselves—can be a stretch. Maron isn't bad at pretending to be himself, but his performance also doesn't make for very interesting television. Yet toward the end of last season, and continuing with the first two episodes of the new one, something strange has happened. A bedraggled, bearded Maron has had a breakdown, gotten addicted to painkillers, lost his home, and lives in a storage locker.
Listeners of Maron's podcast will not recognize any of this, and that makes the story more compelling than the episodes that preceded it. Suddenly the audience has no idea what will happen to this version of Maron, and it's exciting to tune in each week to find out. As a comedian and interviewer who has prided himself on confessional honesty, Maron has, paradoxically, succeeded on his TV show by making things up. I'll continue to listen to his podcast to find out what's going on his life, but on his TV show I now, finally, expect a good story.
Maron Wednesdays at 8 PM on IFC