Canada’s new comedy isn’t kind — it’s a warning label
Canada once wore its niceness like a national uniform. We were the peacekeepers, the polite ones, the country with the Pearson halo glowing faintly above our heads. Americans pointed north and saw a land of gentle absurdists — John Candy’s warmth, Eugene Levy's buoyant sarcasm, SCTV’s harmless lunacy. Our comedy was a soft lamp in a quiet room.
