‘Free Bert’ (2026) Netflix Series Review - Bert Kreischer Just Wants to Be Shirtless

Bert Kreischer plays Bert Kreischer in Free Bert, and what this 53-year-old stand-up comedian wants freedom from is conformity and conventional taste. He wants to be shirtless; he wants to crack ribald, offensive jokes. Comedy is obviously subjective, but comedians like Kreischer are really not for everyone. I quickly went through the comment section of one of his YouTube videos, and it ranged from "Love it!" to "Can someone timestamp the funny part for me?" The latter, I think, comes from people who are shocked and repulsed by Kreischer's bits in which he does things like, say, refer to his daughters as "bitches." Watch just a five-minute clip of Kreischer's comedy, and you will understand why he can be so polarizing. And yes, the type of humor Kreischer revels in—and throws at you—can indeed be genuinely exasperating. But I enjoy his sense of humor because he isn't actually mean. He knows he's on the stage to tell a joke, and he's one of those rare specimens today who believes a joke shouldn't be taken seriously.

I don't get the impression that Kreischer is trying to prod his viewers or test how crude he can be. This is just his style, and he looks comfortable as he is. We can, of course, intellectualize as much as we want, but the fact is that Kreischer is just, you know, funny. That's why he works for me. Beneath all the smuttiness and vulgarity is a sweet jester who likes fart jokes and doesn't see why anyone should be offended by them—or by him. In Free Bert, Kreischer turns the lens toward the monotony of his shirtless gag and self-deprecates twice (one girl mentions his "thick skin," while the other uses "pig" as an analogy to talk about him). He also goes into prickly territory with a gynecologist who circulates his patients' creepy pics and a bit of dark humor involving a husband threatening his Asian wife by "talking to someone from ICE." Perhaps this is also Kreischer's way of saying that so-called normal people are way more mentally disturbed and wicked than he is—he just tells a joke for the sake of entertaining everybody.

When Kreischer's coarse, dirty portion works its magic, you find yourself in stitches. I am thinking of that scene where the Vanderthals—Landon (Chris Witaske), Chanel (Mandell Maughan), and Kiersten (Sophia Reid-Gantzert)—watch a clip of Bert (I will use this name when talking about the character in this series) roasting them in front of a live audience. What's hilarious is that they play this clip while sitting opposite Bert himself. At one point, Bert proudly calls himself a "world-class pedophile" (no, make it two times), and you see a man who's a bit oblivious to the implications and a comedian who winks at himself and the audience. However, more than Kreischer or any adults in the show, for that matter, the real mean-spiritedness comes from the young characters. I am thinking of Kiersten—a real Mean Girl who's an expert at the game of manipulation. My favorite "monster," though, turned out to be Ila (Lilou Lang). Don't be fooled by her age or height; you don't want to mess with her. You also shouldn't invite her to a TED Talk, given this is the motivation she gives to her father: "When you are fighting with a bull, you don't run away from it. You run towards it." But the scene that almost made me fall out of my seat with laughter is the one where Ila discusses the schedule of two guards. What. A. Character.

Again, one could say this is Kreischer telling us that kids are not too innocent, so no one needs to "save them" from his indecent rib-ticklers. Kids, in fact, nowadays are more exposed, more "indecent." A Google search is all it takes for them to access porn and, say, information about surgeries related to the scrotum. In a world that's already so open, so unshielded, there's no point getting angry at artists for doing their job. People like Kreischer are not threats; they merely want to express themselves without fear of being policed or pressured into diluting the punch of their craft. The title, then, is not a cry for help; it's a declaration from a man who has rejected peer pressure, who doesn't want to be a people pleaser. Bert Kreischer is free, and he's comfortable in his own skin—shirtless.

Final Score- [7/10]
Reviewed by - Vikas Yadav
Follow @vikasonorous on Twitter
Publisher at Midgard Times