The Riyadh Comedy Festival, held from September 26 to October 9, 2025, at Boulevard City in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, was billed as one of the largest comedy gatherings in the world. Drawing more than 50 comedians—including some of the industry’s most recognizable names like Dave Chappelle, Bill Burr, Kevin Hart, Louis C.K., and Pete Davidson—the festival was intended as a showcase of international humor and entertainment. But behind the laughter, the event sparked a heated debate about free speech, human rights, and the ethics of performing in a country with a contentious record.
According to Human Rights Watch, the Saudi government used the festival as part of a broader effort to deflect attention from its “brutal repression of free speech and other pervasive human rights violations.” The organization accused Saudi authorities of “whitewashing” their image through high-profile events, a strategy that has also included the LIV golf tour and Formula 1 races as part of Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman’s Vision 2030 plan. The goal? To boost the economy, attract tourism, and rebrand the Kingdom on the world stage.
But the festival’s timing was impossible to ignore. It coincided with the seventh anniversary of the state-sponsored murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, who was killed on October 2, 2018, in the Saudi consulate in Istanbul. Just months earlier, on June 14, 2025, Saudi authorities executed Turki al-Jasser, a journalist accused of “treason” for criticizing the government on social media. As reported by France 24, this execution marked the first journalist killing under Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman since Khashoggi’s death. In the same year, Saudi Arabia executed 17 people in just three days, bringing the total number of executions to 239—a pace that rights groups say undermines the government’s reform narrative.
Human Rights Watch did not call for a boycott of the festival. Instead, as stated by Saudi Arabia researcher Joey Shea, the organization urged comedians to use their platforms to “speak out against Saudi Arabia’s serious rights abuses or they risk bolstering the Saudi government’s well-funded efforts to launder its image.” Specifically, Human Rights Watch asked performers to call for the release of unjustly detained Saudi dissidents, journalists, and activists—including Waleed Abu al-Khair and Manahel al-Otaibi, both prominent advocates for human rights and women’s rights in the Kingdom.
Despite these appeals, none of the comedians are known to have publicly addressed Saudi human rights issues during their sets. Human Rights Watch sent letters on September 19, 2025, to the representatives of several announced performers, requesting meetings about the human rights crisis in Saudi Arabia, but received no response. “Public pressure from such high-profile artists and free speech advocates could help secure their release and freedom,” Shea said. The silence on stage was notable, especially given the festival’s international visibility.
Comedians’ ability to speak freely was further complicated by the contracts they were required to sign. According to direct reports and screenshots shared by comedian Atsuko Okatsuka, performers were forbidden from making derogatory jokes about the Saudi government, the royal family, or any religion. Louis C.K. confirmed, “I was told there would only be two restrictions on what I could talk about on stage: their religion and their government. I don’t have jokes about those two things.” Okatsuka, for her part, rejected the offer to perform, while others chose to participate, reportedly receiving payments ranging from $350,000 to $1.6 million.
Some comedians attempted to address the controversy in their own ways. During an October 6 appearance on Jimmy Kimmel Live, Aziz Ansari said, “Part of the fee [from the festival] should go to support causes that support free press and human rights,” naming Reporters Without Borders and Human Rights Watch, and adding that he “shares the concerns that people have brought up.” However, Human Rights Watch later clarified that it could not accept such donations. Jessica Kirson, an outspoken Jewish lesbian comedian, also performed at the festival, despite the fact that homosexuality is a criminal offense punishable by death under Saudi law. Afterward, she expressed regret, stating, “This decision has weighed heavily on my heart ever since. I like to express my sincere regret for having performed under a government that continues to violate fundamental human rights.” She pledged to donate her entire performance fee to a human rights organization, although Human Rights Watch again declined to accept it. Kirson added, “I hoped that this could help LGBTQ+ people in Saudi Arabia feel seen and valued. I am grateful that I was able to do precisely that—to my knowledge, I am the first openly gay comic to talk about it on stage in Saudi Arabia.”
Not every comedian was comfortable with the event. Pete Davidson, whose father died in the September 11, 2001, attacks—an act perpetrated by terrorists, 15 of whom were Saudi nationals—performed at the festival, drawing criticism for his participation. Meanwhile, Shane Gillis revealed on “Matt and Shane’s Secret Podcast” that he had turned down a lucrative offer to perform, saying, “I took a principled stand. You don’t 9/11 your friends.” David Cross, another comedian, took to social media with an open letter, writing, “I am disgusted, and deeply disappointed in this whole gross thing. That people I admire, with unarguable talent, would condone this totalitarian fiefdom for …what, a fourth house? A boat? More sneakers? … This is truly the definition of blood money.”
For those who did perform, reactions were mixed. Bill Burr, known for his sharp satire of American society, had previously criticized celebrities who performed for dictatorships. Yet after his set in Riyadh, Burr said on his podcast, “The Royals loved the show. Everyone was happy. The people that were doing the festival were thrilled. And, yeah, it was just this great, positive thing. … So it was a mind-blowing experience, definitely top three experiences I’ve ever had.” Dave Chappelle, another headliner, remarked to the Riyadh crowd, “It’s easier to talk here than it is in America,” according to The Hollywood Reporter, but did not address the issue of human rights abuses in the Kingdom.
The festival’s broader context cannot be ignored. While the Saudi government has promoted advancements for women and youth and invested heavily in the entertainment sector, rights groups argue that these changes have been accompanied by a dramatic curtailing of civil and political rights. Arbitrary arrests of dissidents, activists, and even members of the royal family have continued, according to Human Rights Watch. The festival, with its international stars and restrictions on free speech, has become a flashpoint in the ongoing debate over the responsibilities of artists and entertainers who perform under authoritarian regimes.
As the laughter faded and the spotlights dimmed, the Riyadh Comedy Festival left a lingering question: Can entertainment truly be separated from politics and human rights, or does the stage itself become a battleground for those very issues? The answer, it seems, will depend not just on those who perform, but on those willing to speak up—on and off the stage.
