Fair. I think we both know what I mean, though - the canonical scene I hate to watch is the one where all of the audience, and everybody in the scene except that one guy, knows something, while that one guy doesn’t know it and proceeds to dig himself deeper and deeper.
Some years ago I went to a lecture by Antony Jay (one of the writers of Yes, Minister); his theory of humour is that it’s essentially about people getting stuff wrong, and his evo-psych model (which I don’t think stands up well but is still potentially interesting) is that you can’t say to a tough manly hunter “don’t trust a boar when you think it’s dead”, because he’ll say “of course I knew that”, but you can say “this guy thought the boar was dead and got a tusk where it hurts, har har har”.
The vast majority of humour wants me to say “that person got something wrong, har har har”.
And… I find that very difficult. If a person deliberately makes themselves the fool, that can work. Otherwise I think that I can too easily see myself as the unknowing victim rather than as one of the laughing mob.
Contrast a couple films I’ve seen recently, both basically action comedies in which an ordinary person has to try to operate in Spy World. In The Spy Who Dumped Me (2018) our heroine is allowed to be her own person and prevail through her own virtues even though she doesn’t have the skills needed to play in Spy World. In Spy (2015) our heroine prevails largely by chance, and not only everyone in the film but the framing of the film itself is constantly pouring abuse on her: she’s fat and unattractive and embarrassing and gets her clothes caught on things and has to ride a tiny moped. Also she’s fat and unattractive and fat. And that one just didn’t work for me.