As the Riyadh Comedy Festival kicks off in Saudi Arabia this weekend, the event has ignited a fierce debate about ethics, free speech, and the price of laughter. The festival, running from late September into early October 2025, boasts an all-star lineup that includes Dave Chappelle, Bill Burr, Kevin Hart, Pete Davidson, Aziz Ansari, and Louis C.K. But beneath the glitz and glamour, controversy swirls around the festival’s royal sponsorship, the country’s troubling human rights record, and the choices made by some of comedy’s most celebrated figures.
The festival is directly organized and funded by the Saudi government, led by Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman. According to Current Affairs, this is part of a broader campaign—Vision 2030—to diversify the Saudi economy and rebrand the Kingdom as a global entertainment hub. Oil still accounts for about 43 percent of Saudi Arabia’s GDP and 75 percent of its fiscal revenue, so the government is eager to attract foreign investment and polish its international image. Hosting world-famous comedians is just the latest move in a multi-billion dollar public relations effort.
But for many, the price of admission is simply too high. Comedian Shane Gillis, star of the Netflix series Tires, made headlines when he publicly refused to perform at the festival, even after organizers doubled their payment offer. Speaking on the Secret Podcast, Gillis explained his decision: "You don't 9/11 your friends." The comment, referencing the September 11 attacks, struck a particularly sensitive chord given that Pete Davidson—whose father was a firefighter killed on 9/11—is among the festival’s headliners.
Gillis’s stand resonated with fans and fellow comedians alike. "It’s good to know some folks had the moral compass strong enough to resist the greed," one Redditor remarked, echoing a sentiment shared by thousands online. The reaction wasn’t just about the money, though the sums involved are staggering. Tim Dillon, another comedian initially slated to perform, revealed on his podcast that he was set to earn $375,000 for a single show before being fired for his jokes about Saudi slave labor. According to Dillon, comedians in a "higher bracket"—presumably the likes of Burr or Chappelle—could rake in as much as $1.6 million for their appearances.
The festival’s detractors argue that these payouts amount to "blood money." As one Reddit user put it, "Western comedians going over there to make all the royals laugh is tone deaf considering the government jails Saudis that tweet anything remotely negative about the country/culture." Saudi Arabia’s crackdown on dissent is well-documented. Just last month, the government executed a 30-year-old man and his brother for allegedly participating in anti-government protests as teenagers. In June, journalist Turki al-Jasser was executed—most likely by beheading—for reporting on women’s issues and criticizing the government. And in 2023, a father of seven was sentenced to death for social media posts critical of the country’s leadership, despite having just ten followers between two anonymous Twitter accounts.
These abuses are not ancient history. The 2018 murder of Washington Post columnist Jamal Khashoggi by Saudi agents inside the country’s Istanbul consulate remains a chilling example of the regime’s willingness to silence critics. As reported by Current Affairs, President Donald Trump even boasted about shielding the Crown Prince from consequences, telling journalist Bob Woodward, "I saved his ass. I was able to get Congress to leave him alone. I was able to get them to stop." The U.S. later sold over $8 billion in weapons to Saudi Arabia, while President Joe Biden dismissed a lawsuit against the prince, citing sovereign immunity.
Despite these grim realities, some comedians have defended their participation. On Theo Von’s podcast, Jim Jefferies shrugged off criticism, saying, "Now people have been going, 'Oh, how dare you go over there after, oh, they killed a reporter.' That was the big one. There's been a reporter who they killed. You don't think our governments fucking bump people? Oh, I think Jeffrey Epstein was fucking bumped off. You know what I mean?" Jefferies’s comments, which seemed to equate the murder of a dissident journalist with conspiracy theories about Epstein, did little to quiet the backlash.
Others, like Marc Maron and Stavros Halkias, have spoken out against the festival. Maron was blunt: "I mean, the same guy that’s gonna pay them is the same guy that paid that guy to bonesaw Jamal Khashoggi and put him in a fucking suitcase." Halkias, asked if he’d join the gig, simply replied, "Saudi Arabia is spooky to me." Their refusal, alongside Gillis’s, has drawn praise from fans who see them as upholding the true spirit of comedy—speaking truth to power, not performing for it.
Yet, the lure of Saudi money appears irresistible to others. Bill Burr, long admired for his willingness to skewer the rich and powerful, has faced particular disappointment from fans. As one Redditor noted, "Bill Burr was looked up to by many for speaking out against billionaire culture. But now that the ‘big money’ is going into his bank, he’s okay with it, which many fans find odd, seeing how Bill Burr is already one of the most successful comedians of the decade."
The festival is just one piece of a larger Saudi strategy. Under Vision 2030, the Kingdom has invested heavily in sports and entertainment, from the $500 billion Neom mega-city project to the controversial LIV Golf league, which merged with the PGA and DP World Tour in 2023. Saudi Arabia even secured the hosting rights for the 2034 FIFA World Cup, thanks in part to close ties with FIFA president Gianni Infantino. These efforts are designed to distract from, and perhaps normalize, the regime’s ongoing repression.
The ethical dilemmas facing comedians mirror those confronting athletes, business leaders, and entertainers worldwide. Is it possible to separate art from politics, or does performing in Riyadh implicitly endorse the regime? Critics argue that the festival is not just another gig—it’s a calculated attempt by the Saudi government to "sanitize" its image. As Current Affairs put it, "Participating in this event is more than simply performing in a country that does bad things. The Riyadh Comedy Festival is directly organized by the Saudi government as part of a multi-billion dollar campaign to sanitize the nation’s image."
For now, the festival goes on, and the Saudi government gets to point to its international comedy stars as evidence of progress. But as the dust settles, the question lingers: at what cost does laughter come? For some, the answer is clear. As George Carlin once said, "It’s a big club, and you ain’t in it." This weekend, that club is in Riyadh—and the guest list tells its own story.
