How many American Pie movies can a production company release before the high-ups start to feel bad? Why does “from the people who brought you Scary Movie” still mean something good? How come Jim Carey is having to do more serious roles? Remember when Dane Cook was a movie star and was chosen to host an SNL season premiere? How many times do you have to hear or say, “You can do it,” in an accent before it’s not funny anymore?
Please understand that I am not completely putting all of these things down; I know they have some redeeming qualities. For instance, when Dane Cook steals jokes, sometimes he steals them from really funny people. While all of these questions do not address things that are inherently bad (Jim Carey was great in Dumd and Dumber), they do make you wonder why comedy is so easy. How come production companies can crank these things out in no time, one after another, and people keep paying to see them? I think we as people like familiarity. We love romantic comedies because we know the formula precisely. We like movies starring Sean William Scott because we know exactly what to expect from Sean William Scott. And it’s fine. It’s entertainment. But what about when we want more than entertainment? When we need originality? Creativity? I want to suggest that in reality–in the artistic world–comedy is not easy but difficult and serious business.
The problem with my desire is that I can’t actually put my reasoning into words. If you want to read up on comedy theory (and I know everyone does) read up on Del Close. What I’m going to–now that I’ve given examples of expected, strictly entertaining comedy–is give some examples of hard work, extreme preparation, and mental diligence in comedy.
Steve Martin
First, if you haven’t read Born Standing Up, and you are interested in what I’m talking about, you should read it. I am going to relay one example though. Steve Marin recalls watching a comedian on The Tonight Show, and, as he watched, he noticed something interesting: this particular comedian would pat his stomach at the punchline of every joke, and Steve Martin would laugh. After he noticed this pattern, Martin began to listen very closely to the jokes. He realized that they weren’t even that funny, and in some instances the punchlines didn’t make sense. But the crow kept laughing. Later, Steve Martin decided that he didn’t want punchlines. He wanted the crowd’s reaction to be genuine, not laughing because they were supposed to but because they had to.
Steve Martin came along in the era of smart comics. Robert Klein, George Carlin, and the like ran comedy in those days with observations on politics, religion, and differences in people. Steve Martin decided he would give the audience stupidity. And that’s what he did. Example: “When someone looks and me and says, ‘Hey mind if I smoke?’ I always say, ‘No. Mind if I fart? It’s one of my habits.’” However, there’s more to his act than acting stupid. He performed with a well-planned, calculated idiocy. He would change a joke dozens of times until it was perfect. Also, during his routines, Martin was constantly thinking ahead. Based on audience reactions to previous jokes, he would decide (while in the middle of his current joke) whether or not to do what he had planned next or skip to something else that the crowd might respond to a little better. Just listen to Wild and Crazy Guy or Let’s Get Small with that in mind, and it will amaze you.
Woody Allen
I don’t care if you’ve seen his movies or not–if you love them or hate them–Woody Allen’s stand-up is some of the best you’ll ever hear. Like Steve Martin, Woody Allen relies on absurdity for his laughs. Also like Steve Martin, Woody Allen has an unwarranted arrogance about himself in his act. But unlike Steve Martin, Woody Allen does not present quick-hit, fast-paced jokes one after another. No, Woody Allen relies on elaborate, totally fictional stories to get laughs. He has one in which he is accidentally hypnotized and believes he is a fire engine, one where he ends up going to a Klan rally thinking it’s a Halloween costume party, one involving a live moose strapped to the hood of his car, one involving a time when he lived with the Ex-patriots in Europe and being punched in the mouth multiple by Ernest Hemingway, and too many more for me to go on. The thing about Woody Allen is that he presents his stories, as ridiculous as they may be, as pure, unquestionable fact.
When you listen to Woody Allen, imagine the time it took him not only to invent these stories but to know them well enough to offer them as they really happened to him. Here’s a good example:
These guys are just a couple of examples, but to me they are the best examples of the serious attitude needed to be a great comedian. People can always get laughs by shocking people with filth, falling down, making funny faces, and that has its place I guess. But these two are perfect examples of how to build a comic legacy. Woody Allen performed his stand-up in the mid 1960s, and I have yet to find anyone who is as funny throughout as he was. Steve Martin practically created a kind of entertainment that no one has successfully recreated. That’s not just entertainment. That’s art. And that’s not easy.
Not only is comedy serious, it is not pretty! LOL. I agree with your blog. Great comedy, like most other endeavours, is delivered very precisely and after much thought and planning. Born Standing Up was a great book and made me remember how much I loved Steve Martin when his first album came out…and still do.