Mulaney Roasts RFK Jr.'s Marriage, Public Health Record at Netflix Benefit

Comedian John Mulaney brought the heat at a Netflix charity event Thursday night, unleashing a full-throttle comedy assault on Robert F. Kennedy Jr. that touched on everything from his marriage to Cheryl Hines to his qualifications as a public health official. And he didn’t hold back.

During his set at the“Night of Too Many Stars”benefit in Los Angeles on May 7, the 43-year-old comedian wasted no time establishing his premise: Kennedy is comedy adjacent, largely because of how Mulaney knows him personally. That casual familiarity became the launching pad for some sharp jabs. He called out Kennedy’s infidelity toward Hines, the actress best known for her role on Curb Your Enthusiasm, describing the dynamic with blunt directness before adding an apologetic nod to“west side people”who’d already caught wind of the story. It was the perfect setup for the harder material to come.

But the marriage bit was just the appetizer. Mulaney’s real target became Kennedy’s track record on the job. He mocked his previous tenure with Riverkeeper, the Hudson River conservation group, with a deadpan observation that went straight for the jugular: a man whose job was to keep a river clean, now overseeing public health. He mimicked Kennedy’s raspy voice, turning the absurdity into comedy gold with lines about being“in charge of your bones and your tummy.”The measles became a punchline—a rhetorical question about whether recipients of the disease had received a get-well card from Kennedy himself, complete with the implication that his anti-vaccine stance had real consequences.

Mulaney’s physicality sold the bit as much as the words. By cycling in and out of the Kennedy impression, he created a rhythm that kept the audience off-balance, building momentum toward increasingly cutting observations. He painted a portrait of a man coasting on family legacy while being spectacularly unfit for the job at hand, all while maintaining the veneer of folksy charm. The final turn—Kennedy claiming his father was a“very good man”while admitting he’s a“very bad man guy”—was the cherry on top, a line that suggested Kennedy himself is aware of the gap between his pedigree and his abilities.

The charity event’s proceeds went to the NEXT for Autism foundation, a reminder that Mulaney’s political ribbing was happening in service of something larger. But that framing also highlighted the contrast: a working comedian using his platform to raise money for a serious cause while simultaneously taking down a government official through sharp observation and vocal mimicry. It’s a version of comedy that lands harder precisely because it’s tethered to specifics—Kennedy’s actual record, his actual marriage drama, his actual voice—rather than floating in abstraction.