Comedy is always a personal thing. The list of people that make me laugh isn't long. Mostly because I rarely enjoy raunchy, silly or slapstick humour. For me, the ability to tell a joke without offensive language is a skill to be treasured.
I grew up with Bob Hope, Johnny Carson and George Carlin as the holy trinity of laughter. Hope was always about one-liners, Carson about the setup and grinning punchline and Carlin the thoughtful comic. Indeed, I learned what the words you can't say on TV were from Carlin. At the same time, the single funniest spot I have EVER seen a comedian do featured Carlin coming on-stage and NOT SAYING A SINGLE WORD! He looked like he was going to start about a dozen times. Each time, he sighed, shrugged in defeat and tried once more to summon the courage to say something. I convulsed when he left the stage, still having not said a single word.
Over the years, other comedians joined my little class of must-see comics. I like David Brenner. And Bill Maher joined the conclave about a decade ago. He's the 'new' Carlin, the comic with an idea that jokes can inform as well as entertain. Jay Leno, more Hope than Carson, also has been worthy of my nightly night-time watching. Maher's the closest to raunchy on that list, but he's smarter when he works clean.
Shockingly, the must-see list now includes a truly smutty comic. And he's the funniest man alive, to boot. I talk here about Billy Connelly, the Scottish comedian who even has a routine called "Effing this, and Effing that." His take on the self-absorbed American makes him consistently funny, despite the foul language.
Which finally brings me to Kevin Smith, who ISN'T a comedian. I had occasion over the weekend to watch "An Evening with Kevin Smith." Smith is the director of such movies as Clerks, Mallrats, Saving Amy, Dogma and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back! Truth to be told, I only enjoyed Chasing Amy from that lot. He's written those movies and more and appeared in most of them too. He also writes top-calibre comic books (albeit without regard to a publishing schedule).
And he is very funny, if possibly the foulest-mouthed person I've listened to in a while.
An Evening is a long college concert show (almost four hours) pieced together from five shows at various US schools. It's slow to get to the parts that make it worthwhile--Smith's meeting his wife, his dalliance with Prince over a would-be documentary and his utter dismissal of Tim Burton and Jon Peters as anything other than visitors from another planet. Those parts are brilliant story-telling. Up until then, you have to wade through Smith's obsession with ... penises. He rarely puts two sentences together that could be clipped for TV. But I laughed, despite myself several times. Still, if he hadn't started with the longer-form stories, I might not have finished the documentary.
But I'm glad I did. I had actually used the Smith break to try and get over a programming problem that I had. I was stopped cold, couldn't see the solution for the obstacles stacked up in my brain. Watching Smith swear for three hours plus shook loose the cobwebs. Another day's work got the problem solved, and Mr. Smith bears some credit.
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