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Showing posts with label dana gould. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dana gould. Show all posts

Thursday, September 02, 2010

Comedy Structuralism: i.e. Stealing Jokes

Stealing jokes isn't as cut and dry as we sometimes make it out to be. A lot of people joke about giving their kid a crazy name. Everyone knows how horrible an itchy butthole is. And often the only way we talk about it is to fit it into a story that makes us laugh.

My recent post about Dana Gould's show left out some very relevant observations that the comic's comic made a while back, specifically about the parallels between Gould's and Louis C.K.'s act.
I couldn't help but begin making instant comparisons (Boston-area heritage? check! In their 40s? check! No game with the ladies? check! Problems interacting with two young daughters? check!). So I turned off my TV and waited a bit to give Gould a fairer shake. After all, the two men may have more than a few things in common, but they approach their lives and their comedy differently.
Yep, there are lot of very common pieces in both acts. But remember, the pieces are very common. A good comedian can find something new to notice. But even the best will say something that we've thought about. And will complain about something that we too already hate. And will admit something we're all ashamed of. Comedy is part seeing something different, and part seeing something differently.

Who hasn't wondered what really happens when you're under for a root canal. Jerry wondered about it when he went to see Tim Whatley and Sheryl the hot hygienist. And Louie has his suspicions too.



The image of a patient coming up from the gas, and getting a glimpse of the dentist buttoning and zipping up, is familiar.

But they're different jokes. Sure, they're very similar, but you can't deny that the hallucination and the banana and Stephen Root's amazing delivery make this a very different experience.

Cranston creates a slick, confident, unnerved swinger; tag-teaming with his cooperating colleague's hygienist. It's a joke about 'Welcome to our club.'

Root gives us a soothing, tender, 'relax-I-won't-hurt-you' dentist, hiding from everyone. Showing shame. It's a joke about pedophilia.

My belief that Louis C.K. knew about and probably remembered the Seinfeld scene, is not an accusation. It's the opposite. It's a defense of him as a comic who knows and respects and references other comedians. Louie is about a comic living in New York. The show has almost no traditional plot, and it's structured around a stand-up act that is tangentially, thematically related to the action. He's using Seinfeld's structure very differently. And the irreverence that Seinfeld introduced with his show, C.K. has taken further. Knowingly.

C.K. doesn't need this defense, because he's trusted, and I haven't heard anyone accuse him. But there are comedians who are accused too easily. And a lot of fans, eager to show how much they know about their favourite comics, try to prove some worth by pointing and barking at every similarity like a terrier at a doorbell. Go do a word-search if that's how you want to spend your time.

Or write a post like I just did.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Netflix Instant Nudge: Dana Gould - Let Me Put My Thoughts In You

Dana Gould is a bit absurdist, a bit storyteller, a bit impressionist, mostly caricaturist. He's one of the most complete acts working. Let Me Put My Thoughts In You, besides being wonderfully titled, is a good look at him.

His talent is splattered all over a full career. His early work on The Ben Stiller Show. His role as goofy co-worker Jimmy on the forgettable Working. His sad yet hilarious portrayal of Frankie on one episode of Seinfeld. His voices and writing and producing on The Simpsons.



That is another really weird thing I developed from my father: just this bizarre genetic inability to create muscle tone. I barely eat. I could do sit-ups all day. I stand up: I'm still built like a condom full of walnuts.

I rated this show positively a couple years ago, but only 3/5 stars. Watching it again, I'm changing that to 4/5. Greg Fitzsimmons has claimed that Bob Odenkirk's directing ruined the performance, and I might see what he's getting at. The camera zooms in and out. It pans across the stage. The audience's heads show-up on screen, even crossing Gould in parallax as the angle of the shot shifts. The audio has more echo than the smallish room needs. It's not bad direction, it's just a noticeably filmed set. I like that it highlights Gould's shifting and starting rhythm. There's a controlled mania there.

He talks about his racist father, his evil daughter, his liberal frustration, and he even talks about his own jokes. And Viagra.





Leukemia will still be there. Multiple sclerosis will be fine. We've gotta crack the old guy boner draught!