Within his analytical account of the comic, Henri Bergson contends that laughter is a social action, that ‘implies a kind of…complicity, with other laughers, real or imaginary’, and thus is inexplicably linked to a wider social dynamic (Bergson, 1911: 7). Indeed, Bergson argues that ‘you would hardly appreciate the comic if you felt yourself isolated from others’, and so laughter ‘appears to stand in need of an echo’ (Bergson, 6). These ideas seem to recall the function of a‘ laugh track’ that features within popular comedic sitcoms such as Friends, Cheers and Seinfeld. Arguably, ‘laugh tracks’ are designed to operate as a kind of ‘echo’ by prompting viewers to find humour in what is on screen by the accompanied laughter heard from an unseen live studio audience. In one sense, this laughter is ‘real’, as it originates from a studio audience made up of real individuals. However, this laughter could also be read as ‘imaginary’, as the studio audience has no physical presence within the particular programme itself, their laughter exists outside the diegesis, and thus, it seems to exist only in the collective imagination of the viewing audience.
Within this conception of laughter as being a social action, Bergson argues that laughter functions as a social corrective, a signal that an individual has deviated from proper social conduct, urging them to ‘correct’ their behaviour (Bergson, 1911: 17). In this way, the ‘laugh track’ within a sitcom such as Friends may also operate as a built-in social corrective, an ever-present third party that reacts to the actions of characters who often act in outlandish ways in response to compromising social situations. These effects are perhaps best observed by removing the laugh track from popular sitcoms. For example, in a scene from Friends, Ross’ poor choice of words to a concerned personal defence instructor, and subsequent physical attack on two women he believes to be his friends, is originally depicted as the antics of a wacky yet benign guy, with a misunderstood zeal for self defence.
However, it is once the laugh track is removed from the same scene that Ross, as if by magic, transforms into a crazed psychopath, intent on causing harm to unsuspecting victims, as the excruciating awkwardness of his interactions is laid bare.
The absence of the ‘laugh track’ arguably denies the viewing audience a mutual recognition of Ross’ strange behaviour, as we are forced to confront his actions without the assurance of laughter heard from others reacting alongside us, which produces an uncomfortable and awkward viewing experience. This underscores the role of the ‘laugh track’ as a social corrective, as it provides a framework for the audience to interpret characters actions and behaviour, and to subsequently find the humour in situations that would otherwise not be funny.