Comedy is not pretty.
If you don’t believe the saying popularized by Steve Martin during his standup years, then take a gander at movies Hollywood has given us about comedians. In most cases, they are lonely, neurotic, insecure, sad people. And from these personality traits –or disorders– comes humor.
Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work
The latest movie to focus on a comic is Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, a fascinating warts-and-all bio-doc about the queen of mean, following one topsy-turvy year in her life. The downs (she fires her longtime manager, a play in England bombs, she’s heckled by an audience member in Milwaukee) and ups (she scores in a tribute to George Carlin, wins the reality series Celebrity Apprentice, has a book published, keeps audiences rolling in live shows) are captured for the camera, while Joan comments on her career and frenzied life.
She lives in a Manhattan apartment fit for a queen, but worries about money and schleps from gig to gig, whether it be a casino booking, getting roasted on Comedy Central (mostly for the cash), shilling products on cable TV or delivering food (mink coat on shoulder) on Thanksgiving morning to needy people with her grandson. Throughout the film, filmmakers Ricki Stern and Anne Sundberg (The Devil Came on Horseback) remind us of Rivers’ roller coaster career with wonderful archival footage, culled from early TV appearances with Jack Paar and Ed Sullivan, and with clips from her own afternoon and late night shows that bombed (Her 1978 film directing debut Rabbit Test with Billy Crystal as the world’s first pregnant man is conspicuously absent). Joan also comments on her obsession with plastic surgery and what she views as being blackballed from NBC after she decided to compete against The Tonight Show, where Johnny Carson had made her the regular guest host. We’re also treated to segments of Joan’s raunchy, politically incorrect nightclub act and get offhanded opinions about show biz, her late husband Edgar and her daughter Melissa. Love or hate Joan, this is one Rivers that can be called many things, but certainly not lazy.
Onscreen, a more complete, inside look at a comedian’s life would be hard to come by, be it fiction or documentary. But there certainly have been films that have attempted to expose the psyches of those who try to make others chuckle for a living. Here are some of the films that mix laughter and tears to show us what transpires before the spotlight comes on.
Funny People (2009): Fans of Freaks and Geeks, The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up were divided about comic godsend Judd Apatow’s move into more serious territory. On the one hand, Apatow was admired for trying something new and quite bold, but many viewed this mix of farce and darkness uneven and, at 148 minutes, overindulgent. It seems like the filmmaker was trying to find the James L. Brooks touch exemplified in Broadcast News and Terms of Endearment with this saga of a successful comedian (Adam Sandler) discovering he has a blood disease, and how he deals with the health crisis. As expected, top-notch supporting actors—including Seth Rogen as a struggling standup comic, Jonah Hill as an aspiring actor-writer, Jason Schwartzman as a pompous sitcom star, Leslie Mann as Sandler’s now-married ex-girlfriend—and lots of cameos from real-life comedians round out the formidable cast.
The Jimmy Show (2002): A precursor of sorts to last year’s Number One Fan and a salute to the British “kitchen sink films” of the 1960s, this downbeat existential drama was directed by actor Frank Whaley (The Doors, The Freshman) who also stars as the lead character. He’s a major screwup who lives with his grandmother and works at a North Jersey grocery store with pothead pal Ethan Hawke. He dreams of becoming a standup comic, but his open mike night appearances at local watering holes don’t seem to cheer anybody up. His situation becomes even more complicated when girlfriend Carla Gugino becomes pregnant, which you would think would make Whaley end his slacking and ridiculous aspirations and smell the reality. His standup is depressingly bad, but the movie is effective in conveying the reality behind the dreams of working class non-heroes.
Man on the Moon (1999): The perfect matching of actor and material—Jim Carrey playing iconoclastic comedian Andy Kaufman in a biopic directed by Milos Forman—proved to be a box-office bomb and didn’t get Carrey the Oscar nomination he well deserved. The sadly abbreviated life and times of comic genius Kaufman—complex master of confrontational and experimental shenanigans, co-star of Taxi, pro wrestling fanatic—are perfectly realized, thanks to Forman’s tried-and-true touches (the cast of Taxi play themselves, save co-producer Danny DeVito, who plays Andy’s manager George Shapiro) and a knowing script by Scott Alexander and Larry Karaszewski (Ed Wood). But why should we care about Kaufman and his bizarre antics? That’s the question that left audiences indifferent, shrugging their shoulders. Well, at least REM’s haunting theme song caught on.
Funny Bones (1995): Eccentricity of a whimsical sort abounds in director Peter Chelsom’s underappreciated follow-up to his wonderful debut Hear My Song. Oliver Platt plays the comedian who bombs in Vegas in from of his comic legend father Jerry Lewis, and thereafter flees to the small town in England where he was born. His goal is to buy a routine he can call his own, so he auditions a group of entertainers and learns secrets about making people laugh as well as his father’s past. This offbeat, poignant look at the world of comedy boasts another fine and uncharacteristically straight performance by Lewis.
This Is My Life (1992): In this sometimes schmaltzy, sometimes sweetly observed first film helmed by Nora Ephron (Sleepless in Seattle, Julie & Julia), Julie Kavner plays a department store cosmetics salesperson who sacrifices her home life as a single parent to daughters Samantha Mathis and Gaby Hoffman for a shot at comedy success. At first the daughters are behind Mom’s pursuit, but when she starts to garner attention and her career takes up more of her time, the girls are left to a series of babysitters and, usually, to their own devices when it comes to questions about growing up. Dan Akroyd plays Kavner’s agent, Carrie Fisher his resourceful assistant.
Mr. Saturday Night (1992): Billy Crystal is practically a one-man band here, writing. producing and directing, and, while one can admire his ambitions, this epic look into the life of Catskills comic Buddy Young, Jr. may have worked better with less Billy. The film goes back and forth in time, chronicling the life of the jokester from the early days (when he teamed with brother and future agent David Paymer before going solo) through his elder years, when he’s bitter from missing out on superstardom. A fine supporting cast, including Julie Warner, Helen Hunt and Jerry Orbach, takes a back seat in Billy’s club in a film one critic accurately labeled “A Jewish Roots.”
The Dark Backward (1991): Give writer-director Adam Rifkin (Detroit Rock City) credit for being bold, but smack him, too, for being repellent and depressing. Judd Nelson, of all people, plays a terrible comedian who can’t get a break—and frankly, doesn’t deserve one. Then an arm starts to grow out of his back, followed by a hand. Smarmy agent Wayne Newton gets him jobs in clubs and kiddie TV shows, but Rob Lowe, talent scout for a late night TV talk show, attempts to take Nelson to the next level. Set in what appears to be an alternative universe crummy enough to give Terry Gilliam fever dreams, The Dark Backward is one odd duck; a film that appeared intended to attain cult status and never quite caught on. There are similarities to the more acutely satirical How to Get Ahead in Advertising and a terrific supporting cast that includes James Caan, Lara Flynn Boyle and Bill Paxton.
Punchline (1988): Released in the era of the comedy club craze where three or four laugh factories were opening in middle sized cities at a regular clip, Punchline captured the desire of everyday folk to take their act onstage. Tom Hanks is the former med student in serious financial trouble bringing his hip, self-loathing persona to a Manhattan dump where he hopes to get discovered. Sally Field is a real housewife of New Jersey who goes as far as to buy jokes in hopes of making it in standup. It’s not until she realizes her own family life can provide a fountain of material for her routine that she takes off (think Roseanne Barr). Punchline is an admirable attempt to get into the heads of comics and see what makes them tick, but it’s lacking real laughs, as you might expect from writer-director David Seltzer, screenwriter of The Omen.
Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling (1986): Even though co-writer-director-star Richard Pryor claimed this film was not based on his own story, you can’t get much closer than this serious but flawed survey of the life of a troubled standup comic. Almost everything in Pryor’s life is in place here—from growing up in a brothel, his womanizing, his career arc from seedy clubs to superstar, his drug binging, and his near-death experience after setting himself on fire. He relives it all in flashback after the latter incident, as he lays incapacitated in a hospital. While the film won’t win many points for subtlety, and never gets to the crux of Pryor’s , er, Jo Jo’s demons , Pryor the filmmaker does a decent job in depicting the events. His obvious inspirations were Fellini’s 8 ½ and Bob Fosse’s All That Jazz—not a bad thing—but a filmmaker and screenwriter with objectivity may want to take another whirl at Pryor’s amazing life.
The King of Comedy (1982): Misunderstood when it was first released in theaters to microscopic audiences, Martin Scorsese’s film is now considered by many as a brilliant meditation on fame and the lengths people will go to find it. Robert De Niro is Rupert Pupkin, a North Jersey messenger obsessed with talk show host Jerry Langford (Jerry Lewis), whom he stalks and eventually kidnaps in hopes of forcing the entertainer to give him a shot at stardom. Joining Rupert is Masha (Sandra Bernhard), another obsessed Langford fan, as an accessory to the scheme. When Rupert finally gets to do his routine, it is pathetic and unfunny, but the fact that he has recognized his lifelong dream—or has he?—underlines the film’s stinging satire. Like Network, The King of Comedy seems even more pertinent today than when it was released, because of America’s obsession with the media spotlight. Written by the late Paul D. Zimmerman, a former Newsweek film critic (and Movies Unlimited customer). Scorsese also touched on standup comedy in Raging Bull, his previous film.
Lenny (1974): Life was certainly not a box of chocolate or a bowl of cherries for Lenny Bruce, the envelope-pushing comedian who became entangled with drug addiction, personal demons and obscenity charges by the authorities. In Bob Fosse’s stunning black-and-white biopic, Dustin Hoffman turns in a mighty performance as Bruce, who we follow from the early part of his career as a Catskills tummler to meteoric success to the depths of depravation. Valerie Perrine plays his wife, former stripper Honey Bruce, in Fosse’s powerful tribute to a late friend.
Mickey One (1965): While never available on video in any form, this effort from the post-Miracle Worker Arthur Penn is worth seeking out. Noting that with this film he attempted “to push American movies into the realm where Truffaut and Fellini have moved,” Penn delivered a European art film with English dialogue. Strikingly shot in black-and-white, boasting a jarring editing style and Stan Getz on the soundtrack, the film stars Warren Beatty in the title role, a heavy gambling, piano-playing Polish comic whose paranoia gets the best of him, as his belief that the mob is calling in its markers causes him to ditch his home turf for the west side of Chicago. His feverish pursuit of stardom, however, may come back to bite him in the behind. A revolutionary film in many ways, Mickey One proved a tune-up for Penn, who next brought his European sensibilities—and star Beatty—to the smash Bonnie and Clyde.
Joan Rivers is not the only comic who has been the subject of their own full-length documentary. The enjoyable Comedian (2002) draws parallels between a comedian who has made it (and then some) in Jerry Seinfeld and an up-and-comer in Orny Adams, whose ultimate goal is to get a spot on Late Night with David Letterman. Chris Rock, Robert Klein and Jay Leno offer insight and advice. Mr. Warmth: The Don Rickles Project (2007) is John Landis’ highly entertaining survey of the career of “the Merchant of Venom,” whose lifelong love of lambasting is saluted by the likes of Martin Scorsese, Robin Williams, Sarah Silverman and Sidney Poitier. Jamie Kennedy’s Heckler (2007) shifts focuses at a certain points, concentrating first on how comedians deal with hecklers in nightclubs, then on how artists deal with critics, then on Kennedy being ripped on his film Son of the Mask. To My Chagrin: The Unbelievable Life of Brother Theodore (2007) mixes a standup routine and commentary on the life of one Theodore Gottlieb—aka Brother Theodore—an oddball comic regular in Greenwich Village and late night TV who was either a genius or a wacko, depending on your taste. Woody Allen, Dick Cavett, Joe Dante (who cast him in The ‘burbs) and others give you their take on the good Brother.