From behind a desk, Bill Maher has spoken more jokes than he can count. However, he wasn’t holding the microphone this time; instead, he was in the audience, his countenance unreadable, as Wanda Sykes made a pointed remark about him. With controlled compassion, she said, “You give us so much.” “However, I would love a little less,” she said, twisting the knife. Try less, please. It wasn’t poisonous. It was intentional and tinged with a sense of veteran fatigue—one comic after another, signaling the end of the day.
The audience burst out laughing. The Beverly Hilton ballroom was filled with the kind of impromptu energy that only arises when something touches a collective nerve: laughter. Maher, however, did not chuckle. He didn’t even recoil in acknowledgment. Rather, he remained motionless, his face immobile, providing no indication as to whether or not to react. The stillness surrounding him was unusually loud for a man whose reputation had been built on harsh criticism.
That evening, Maher received a nomination for his HBO special, Is Anyone Else Seeing This? However, many perceived a change in the tides instead. Sykes utilized the opportunity to reframe rather than to flatter when he presented the Best Stand-Up Comedy on TV award. She wasn’t merely disparaging the nominees. She was reclaiming what it means to be relevant, particularly in the deliciously anarchic field of comedy, which is still a powerful indicator of societal mood.
The group responded with a mixture of dismay and excitement when she said, “Some people are pissed off that a queer Black woman is doing the job of two mediocre white guys.” An opening act to a roast that would not hold back, it was a disarming line that hung in the air. She didn’t spare anyone: Brett Goldstein received flak for his charismatic villainy. Being referred to as “the richest” in the category, Kevin Hart accepted it with a smile. Kumail Nanjiani’s muscles also received a line. However, Maher’s heat seemed especially deliberate.
Table: Key Context — Wanda Sykes & Bill Maher at the 2026 Golden Globes
| Detail | Information |
|---|---|
| Event | 83rd Golden Globe Awards |
| Date | January 11, 2026 |
| Wanda Sykes Role | Presenter for Best Performance in Stand-Up Comedy on TV |
| Bill Maher Nomination | “Is Anyone Else Seeing This?” (HBO) |
| Sykes’ Joke About Maher | “You give us so much. But I would love a little less. Just try less.” |
| Maher’s Reaction | Appeared stone-faced and unamused |
| Public Response | Mixed — applause in room, debate online |
| External Link | HuffPost Report on Sykes’ Remarks |

Not everyone finds comedy to be age-appropriate. Some develop, broadening their perspective. Others intensify their efforts. For a long time, Maher has balanced criticism and cynicism. He justified eating with Donald Trump during the previous year, calling himself the “Trump whisperer,” a term that seemed designed to make him laugh more than his audience. He frequently talks about subtlety and pushing limits, yet he frequently fails to recognize how weary viewers have grown of punch-down irony.
Sykes touched into that fatigue, but she didn’t identify it. Her joke wasn’t hurtful. It was accurate. Additionally, it was incredibly successful in highlighting a discrepancy between Maher’s current self-perception and that of others in a room full of performers. At that time, the man who had previously made headlines for questioning conventional wisdom had become its focus.
As I watched the video, I was struck by how drastically different it felt from previous award show roasts. It wasn’t cruel. Not that it was very personal. However, it did land like the last note in a lengthy refrain that had been played without modulation for far too long.
She carried out a previous joke when Ricky Gervais won and Sykes received on his behalf: “He’d like to thank God and the trans community.” There were gasps and laughter at the comment. There was no wince or smile from Gervais. However, Sykes’ jab felt especially targeted—like a balancing of the scales—because of the lingering memory of his contentious 2022 Netflix special.
The most notable aspect of Sykes’ set is how it was able to be subtly persuasive while still being incredibly apparent. She made her points succinctly. Her delivery resembled that of a skilled chef applying salt: deliberate, measured, and intended to enhance rather than overshadow the food.
Despite his years of late-night criticism, Maher appears to have become more and more confused between exposure and energy. Being heard is not the same as being talked about. Furthermore, controversy does not always equate to bravery. He was portrayed at the Golden Globes as the disrupted rather than the disruptor.
Comedy reacts to context, but it owes no one consolation. For certain voices, that context has significantly enhanced, while for others, it has become more constrained. Wanda Sykes softly but effectively illustrated that the stage is more than just a venue for performances. It’s a mirror as well. Furthermore, stiffening is rarely the best course of action when it reflects back something uncomfortable. It’s to pay attention.
Neither Sykes’ statement nor Maher’s response was the night’s most human moment. The quiet between was the problem. A joke that cuts too close is followed by a silent uncertainty. The delay reveals that the laughing is about the power dynamics beneath the punchline rather than just the joke itself.
The award show continued as usual. Trophies were distributed. Speeches strayed. The spell was over by the time the cameras came back to Maher a couple more times. What stuck was that one comment—just six words, really—that, gently but firmly, held a whole career up to the light and asked: isn’t it time to try a little less?
