Doesn't Read Funny, Either

Funny, You Don't Look Funny: Judaism and Humor from the Silent Generation to Millennials by Jennifer Caplan (Detroit, MI: Wayne State University Press, 2023)

A former colleague, who is an academic librarian, likes to send me titles of comedy books I might like while he does his collection development.  This title was intriguing, so I requested it from a local library.  It was a slim volume (175 pages), unlike other academic books I've seen, and couldn't wait to dive it.  I was very disappointed.  I wasn't expecting that this book would be "ha-ha" funny as it was a serious look at the subject, but what can you say about a book that has endnotes that are more informative and readable than the actual work?

Caplan's (PhD) book is about Jewish authors and how they use their Judaism (or aversion of it) to humorous effect in their works.  A good portion of her book is focused on Woody Allen, Phillip Roth, and Joseph Heller.  She makes a sincere attempt at identifying the generations - Silent, Baby Boomers, Gen X, and Millennials - by their sensibilities about Judaism rather than just by birth years. This creates muddy waters because she points out some writers overlap generations but their sensibilities aren't any different. The gist is that earlier generations of Jews in America see Judaism as a "Thing," something that was thrust upon them that engenders derision and discomfort.  It is something to be escaped.  Later generations, particularly Gen X and especially Millennials, are much more comfortable with Judaism and being Jewish and see it as part of what makes them who they are, as illustrated by Ilana Glazer and Abby Jacobson (Broad City) and Rachel Bloom (Crazy Ex-Girlfriend).  It is interesting to note that women writers embrace their Judaism and Jewishness more warmly than the male authors, like Shalom Auslander. (The after-effects of circumcision, maybe?)  

For a comic interested in joke structure and the origins of what people have found funny and why, there's not much here.  I get the feeling that Caplan is much more familiar with Millennial culture than any other because it is here and now.  She makes a couple of errors in her book that should've been caught by her editor,  A glaring one is that she states that "George Costanza" was based on Jason Alexander when nearly ever article and interview about the show pinpoint Seinfeld co-creater Larry David as his inspiration.  And David does not deny it.  The saving grace of this book is this section on Millennials and would be a great jumping off point for a book about Millennial humor.  (On a personal note:  I've already been told by my Millennial daughter and her Gen X husband that jokes that put down spouses are dinosaurs  because this is "the first generation that actually loves their spouses."  Really?  Forgive them.  They haven't been married long enough yet.  I kid!  I kid!)

Matt Groening, the creator of "The Simpsons" and "Futurama" -  and a gentile, summed up the heart of Jewish humor - at least to me - best.  He once said in an interview about the main difference between the two shows is that the former is an example of "Irish humor" where a man tries to put one over on his family/friends and suffers the consequences, and the latter is "Jewish humor," where the characters shrug philosophically and say "Whatcha gonna do?"

Sorry, Jennifer.  Whatcha gonna do?

 

I'm Baaaa-ack! 

Back to the Books

I took a break, maybe too long a break, from this blog.  I took some time off to concentrate on my stand-up comedy writing and performing, which meant reading books about comedy and writing about them was almost a "busman's holiday."  It also meant that I could accidently plagierize someone else's jokes, etc., because they had nestled in my subconscious because I read them elsewhere.

Or my excuse is pure bullshit and I just didn't feel like reading or writing.

Take your pick.  Both are valid.

The Mothers of All Comics

In On the Joke: the Original Queens of Stand-Up Comedy by Shawn Levy (NY: Doubleday, 2022)

In nearly every book on the history of stand-up comedy, women, at best, get one collective chapter, their existence reduced to a sentence or two or a couple of paragraphs.  (I can only think of one off the top of my head that does more than that: We Killed: the Rise of Women in Stand-up Comedy by Yael Kohen.)  Show business chronicler Shawn Levy, in contrast, selected nine women whom he felt were the pioneers, taking a deeper dive into who they were and how they broke into the "boys' club" of stand-up in his latest book, In On the Joke: the Original Queens of Stand-up Comedy.  They didn't do everything men did "backwards and in high heels" as the saying about Ginger Rogers goes.*   Working harder within the parameters of a testosterone-fueled field and against the mores of their times, they became successes, but not without personal sacrifice or suppressing a vital part of themselves, something their male counterparts did not have to do. The nine Levy chose were Jackie "Moms" Mabley, Jean Carroll, Minnie Pearl, Phyllis Diller, Elaine May, Totie Fields, and Joan Rivers, with Belle Barth and Rusty Warren as the only ones sharing a chapter.

Levy, with his storytelling skills, covers some familiar territory, the parts of the stories we all know (because of those paragraphs or bios).  He also expands on them, allowing us to feel the frustration of his subjects at having to downplay, or hide completely, their looks, their intellect, their sexuality, and more.  His chapter on Phyllis Diller alone ("The Positive Thinker") reads better than her own autobiography (Like a Lampshade in a Whore House).  Do not skip the book's Introduction!

Anyone reading this book will come away with (I hope) a respect and appreciation for these women.  But it will be women who will feel a sense of pride and an urge to suppress a scream of anger on behalf of the founding females of funny.

*While that quote gets attributed to a number of people, Rogers included, the first verifiable appearance of it was in the comic strip, "Frank and Ernest" by Bob Thaves in 1982.

 A Valentine to Comedy's Sweetheart

Love, Gilda: a documentary by Lisa D'Apolito (2018, 87 min.)

A recent news story broke my heart.  As Gilda's Club, a nationwide support community for people with cancer, celebrated its 25th Anniversary, a number of chapters announced a name change.  Many boards of directors felt that the name of the organization should make it clear that its focus is on cancer, but the most devastating reason - and probably the most honest - was given by the Madison,Wisconsin chapter: Their members did not know who she was, particularly the younger ones.

For those of you who have no idea, or a vague one, of who Gilda Radner was, do yourself a favor; scour the streaming services for the early episodes of SNL (called "Saturday Night" when it first started in 1975), and binge watch her brilliance.  (Female co-stars, Jane Curtain and Laraine Newman were no slouches either.)

For the rest of us, Lisa D'Apolito's taut documentary, Love, Gilda, uses Radner's own diaries, home movies, and audio and video recordings to tell the story of an insecure chubby kid from Detroit who grew up to be comedy's sweetheart.  There is no fairy tale here, and that is D'Apolito's focus.  She doesn't gloss over Gilda's eating disorder, drug use, and ovarian cancer.  It is far from a pity party, though.  Gilda's honesty about her life and her bravery in the face of a deadly disease make you miss her all the more.  Even though you know the end, you root for her to overcome it all and you cheer when she finds the love of her life, comic actor Gene Wilder.   

Love, Gilda is currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

(😊😊😊😊  out of five Smilies)

Everyone Loves Steve Martin

Inside Comedy: The Soul, Wit, and Bite of Comedy and Comedians of the Last Five Decades by David Steinberg (Alfred A. Knopf, 2021)

David Steinberg had the unbelieveable luck to be born at the right time, and more often than not, be in the right place.  The Canada-born comic/writer/director/host got into the business in the mid-60s, putting him at the cusp of seismic change in comedy and society.  Many of the most successful comics of the 1940s and 50s were still alive and active, and the comics who would upend the safe domesticity-based style of comedy and slapstick were on the rise.  Steinberg had unprecedented access to the biggest names on both sides, and, disappointingly,  we find out very little more than one could reading their biographies, autobiographies, and other non-fiction about the comedy in the 20th century and beyond (Recommended: David Bianculli's Dangerously Funny: The Uncensored Story of the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour).

Steinberg's writing is breezy, charming, humble, and funny.  I imagine him sitting like Groucho in his later years (or "Bernstein" in Citizen Kane) with a beret and lap robe, offering anecdotes about a particular comic or a particular time.  Nearly everybody who is or was somebody gets a mention.  For example, on one page (p. 33), you'll find Carly Simon, Dan Sullivan (reviewer), Woody Allen, Lenny Bruce, Harry Kalcheim (agent), Alan Arkin, David Geffen, Cis Corman (casting director), Mike Nichols, Tony Bill, Dustin Hoffman, Sidney Poitier, Robert Alan Aurthur (screenwriter), and Walter and Carol Matthau.  However, that is one of the pages where you'll also find one of the more interesting anecdotes where Geffen, then a junior agent, discourages Steinberg from reading for a part in a certain Mike Nichols movie, because "They're not going to go with a little Jew like you; they're going to go with a tall guy like Tony Bill.  So don't even bother."  (In the end, we know who got the part in The Graduate and it wasn't Tony Bill.)

Some folks get more "real estate" than others, and we get warm and funny stories about Lily Tomlin, Robin Williams, Bob Einstein, Larry David, Martin Short, and Billy Crystal, for example.  And the most often mentioned performer in terms of admiration is Steve Martin.  Practically everyone loves and/or was influenced by him.

Inside Comedy would have benefitted greatly from better editing as there are sentences that repeat in later paragraphs, and an occasional typo, the most egregious being, "By 1957, Marty (Short) joined SCTV."  That would've been impossible on two levels:  Martin Short was 7 years old in 1957 and SCTV didn't exist until 1976.

I so much wanted to love this book (Steinberg was a pre-teen crush), but the best I can muster is "like."  It's a great book for those just dipping their toe in the comedy pool because they learn who's who very quickly, and for those who like to spend some time in the hot tub of nostalgia.  

This Will All Be Over Soon? We Can Only Hope

"This Will All Be Over Soon" by Cecily Strong (Simon and Schuster, 2021)

This is not a funny book, nor was it meant to be, despite the author being best known as a comic actress. What it is, is a memoir of loss and the attendant grief during the most painful year in recent memory.  Strong starts by telling us of the death of her beloved kid cousin Owen at the beginning of 2020 from brain cancer, only to be followed by the tsunami of the pandemic.  In her warm. yet anxious, "dear friend to dear friend" voice, not only does she recount the loss a relative, she honestly discusses the loss of normalcy.  She flees with two friends to an isolated Air BnB in upstate New York, a decision that seems more reflexive than thought out.  Within this bubble, she ruminates about her cousin, about her new boyfriend who comes down with COVID, and about adjusting to an existance without work, without most of her friends, and without the the life she had in general.  Strong's anxiety about COVID and feelings of grief are laid out bare, but not so heavily that it would making reading this book difficult.  It's not all gloom and doom (for example, she learns a lot about herself during this time, including that she's capable of growing her own vegetables), and the ending is cautious, but optimistic. 

What makes this book hard to read, though, is not the subject matter, but the style.  It's part diary, part stream of consciousness.  However, the dated entries are short and are best read a few at a time.

 A Planet Walks Into a Bar...

Planet Funny: How Comedy Took Over Our Culture by Ken Jennings (Scribner, 2018)

"Venus and Mars" may be "alright tonight,"* but Earth is downright funny, sometimes to its own detriment.  

Walking "bar bet" answer book and jokester  Ken Jennings has written an approachable, yet sometimes a bit academic look at the culture influence of comedy through the ages.  Jennings goes all the way back to early homosapiens and works his way up to the current political age.  He observes the evolution of what we value as a society and what we think is funny.  As a matter of fact, he takes an entire chapter - more like one long run-on sentence - to list the things he finds funny. (Some of his past tweets about people with handicaps, for example, have brought his sense of humor under scrutiny.  He has apologized for his "dumb jokes.")

When the book came out in paperback, the subheading was changed to How Comedy Ruined Everything. (Shades of Tru TV's Adam Ruins Everything.)  The new subhead sums up Jennings thesis that we've evolved as a society from one that valued physical strength (survival) to one that appreciated intellect (creative) to one that sees the ability to joke around as probably the most important attribute, as evidenced by practically everything and everyone having to be funny in some way to get our attention - so much so that we elected a reality buffoon as President.

*Thanks, Paul McCartney and Wings.