The Chair Goes Closer

Comedian Dave Chappelle and his latest Netflix standup special, The Closer, are having what the entertainment industry calls a water cooler moment. 

This means A LOT of people are talking about it and equal amounts seem to either love it or him or are angry (Note: Or worse) about him and it. 

This is especially good for Netflix, which shelled out $24.1 million for Mr. Chappelle’s latest – now what shall we call it – act, rant, therapy session?

Perhaps all three.

Netflix sure wants the Seventh Chapter

Well, whatever we want to categorize it as one thing seems crystal clear.  Despite public protests and inside objections from its employees, the once behemoth darling of streamers has no plans to pull it from circulation or curtail its love affair with the comic.

This is especially good for Mr. Chappelle, who may or may not continue his Netflix relationship but is seething about the potential of being cancelled for, among other things, his comments about trans people and the LGBTQ community in general.

Here’s an article that sums up the controversy far better than I could, or want to:

I like to be part of the world and stay informed, so I feel obligated to investigate all water cooler moments.  I am also not easily offended by art and generally enjoy standup comedy. 

So despite being part of the LGBTQ community, white and Jewish – a trifecta target when it comes to Mr. Chappelle’s humor – I truly wanted to give his latest a fair shot.

I mean, what could he possibly say that would shock me or be something that, in some way, I haven’t heard before? 

Nothing.

Not impressed

It’s the same old sh-t I’ve been hearing since I was a teenager, only packaged with a 2021 spin.  Chappelle is nowhere near original as he thinks and pales in comparison to predecessors like Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor and George Carlin.  He doesn’t have the observational acumen of Chris Rock, the engaging danger of Mo’Nique or the intelligence of Sarah Silverman.  Or even the ranting hysteria of Lewis Black.

Not to mention he can’t hold a comic candle to Wanda Sykes.

All hail the Queen!

Instead, what he is, is a one-man band of his own grievance and privilege.  And it’s singularly and most particularly unappealing.

But worse, it’s simply not funny.

AY-OH! #rip

I have no doubt Chappelle would dismiss my comments as my own resistance and  aversion to watching an unapologetic, powerful man I find personally threatening and different from myself owning his power and throwing it back  in my privileged face.

See, Chappelle is a smart and clever guy who has set up an unwinnable situation for both his detractors and, ironically, for himself.

Object to what he’s doing and you don’t get him, are taking his comments out of context or are so privileged and full of yourself and your own POV that you’re part of the problem.

**#&%@&!

On the other hand, he presents an egomaniacal persona that begs anyone who’s trying to understand where he’s coming from to loathe him.  He unabashedly refers to himself (but couches it as the view of what others say) as the GOAT (aka Great of All Time) of comics.  This as he continually reminds his audience that he’s really, really rich and really, really famous as he is.  So much so that he even gets in a remark about how he’s the guy who left $50,000,000 on the table, a veiled reference to when he notoriously left Comedy Central’s Chappelle’s Show in the early 2000s.

Whatever.  I mean, I don’t have to like the guy or want to hang with this version of him in real life.  Truth be known, maybe the whole thing is an act, much in the supersized macho bravura performance of Andrew Dice Clay in the eighties.  Which seems like an apt comparison because in this special Chappelle comes off about as funny and just as obnoxious.

Ouch!

Chappelle’s jokes about gay people include barbs and stories about glory holes (Note: Look it up) and deep-voiced mannish lesbians.  He dissects trans people in terms of their physical body parts vs. their emotional gender identities, fixating on their “vaginas” as the meat equivalent of an Impossible Burger.

Which begs the question of whether he even realizes there is an entire trans community of humans born with vaginas and categorized as female but inside are really…..ugh, just let’s table that for now.

already exhausted

There are meandering thoughts about race that feel promising.  But then Chappelle comes out with hackneyed analogies like Bruce Jenner becoming female was more easily accepted than when Muhammad Ali changed his name. 

Does he not realize that Ali changed his name more than half a century ago, a time when Jenner’s transition would never have been accepted, easily or otherwise, in the US, if even possible?

It’s not that we don’t get the innate American racism he’s talking about, it’s that the observation lacks any kind of punch at all.  And it’s nowhere near worthy of Ali.

An actual GOAT

Chappelle is on to something when at one point he notes that the early women’s liberation movement shied away from including Black women and/or lesbians for fear of conflating it with civil rights or gay liberation.  But he entirely loses the thread when he tries to tie it into a critique of #MeToo in a way that meanders into meaninglessness.

He admits he’s jealous of how well the LBTQ rights movement has done in comparison to civil rights but peppers it with retro lines about being molested by a priest that dare us to wonder whether this, indeed, really happened to him or is simply an easy target for him to poke at the predatory nature of homosexuals and one’s indoctrination into gay sex.

Of course, this is the case for many of the stories he tells.  Are they true, are they fiction or are they some combination of both?

Does he even know?

Certainly, that is the right and method for any comic.  The invention of a persona that’s them but not quite them yet distanced just enough for the audience to laugh at.

Yet in his closing 20 minutes, the most written about part of The Closer, he tells an elongated story he positions as true confessional and asks us to give him the benefit of the doubt.

What it amounts to is a sometimes amusing and seemingly heartfelt diatribe about a trans friend/comic who bombed as his opening act, then during and after his show proved she was funny, which caused him to admire her and want to help her career out further. 

But when his friend some days later defended Chappelle publicly she got dogged on social media and wound up killing herself, something he partially attributes to cancel culture and specifically blames on those who determined to cancel HIM.

It gets serious

Well, of course the origins of any suicide are unknowable.  And of course, social media critiques have gotten out of control and have become ugly, if not at times, lethal.  And certainly no decent person revels in the personal destruction of another human being.

Yet Chappelle determines to take this select moment in time and use it as some sort of proof that he’s not the transphobic, homophobic or whatever phobic person his critics portray him to be.  He uses it as his self-defense and battering ram against anyone who dare accuse him of anything. 

Eh….

This is not unlike the guy who says that having one Jewish friend doesn’t make him an anti-Semite or that working with one Black person with whom he happily has lunch with weekly inoculates him from being a racist.

The truth is that for every statement we make and/or action we take there is a reaction.  And these change from moment to moment and decade to decade, especially for those who willingly choose to do public social commentary.

What seems to truly bother Chappelle and other comedian/social commentators (e.g. Bill Maher) is that they can’t make the same kind of jokes using the same kind of language that they made back in the eighties without impunity. 

Much like these hair styles, some things are better left in the 80s

They don’t like it that the ground underneath them is shifting.  And they hate that the groups they once felt free to marginalize are now, en masse, becoming more powerful than them. 

In other words, they hate the readjustment.

Well, guess what?  They can still say ANYTHING they want.  ANYTHING.  But in 2021 there are new consequences to it because audiences, like workers, are reclaiming their power.

We can fight it out in the public space and reach compromises.  But don’t keep reminding me of how great and successful you are in an act where all you do is pretty much moan and groan about how misunderstood you are by the marginalized groups that criticize you because you’re further marginalizing them.

boooooring

Better yet, don’t listen to what they’re saying at all.   Instead, try to hear it and see them.

Be as obsessed with that as you are with being seen and heard and then maybe you’ll be on to something.

Sheryl Crow – “A Change Would Do You Good”

A Real Piece of Work

Screen Shot 2014-09-07 at 12.22.38 PM

Nothing is permanent but change, said a Greek philosopher named Heraclitus around 500 BC. Well, one doesn’t have do be an expert in Greece or philosophy to know that this was rather prescient.

Imagine saying something – anything – that is still relevant 2500 years later?

Joan Rivers stayed relevant for at least that long. Okay, maybe it’s more of a “Jewish” 2500, which in my tribe would translate to a lifetime. But if you play it right, one lifetime is enough. And who knows, maybe all those centuries later someone will still be saying, Can we talk, as they dish the latest fashions on a show someone else is watching via some random iPhone. Which at that point will probably be an invisible Nano chip implanted directly into their EYE, rather than the i’s we now all know and love.

The death of Ms. Rivers this week – or Joan, as I was fortunate enough to call her the several times we met – collided with a lot of other renowned celebrity deaths and worldwide news in the last few weeks. But none so strangely 2014 Joan-worthy material as the massive iCloud cyber theft of naked photos of Oscar-winning actress and reigning American sweetheart Jennifer Lawrence, among others, that went viral. It’s sort of beside the point – or perhaps it is the point – but I keep wondering, what would Joan have had to say about all that?

Oh please, if I looked like Jennifer Lawrence naked you could’ve seen those pictures on every website in the world – but never for free. Dumb bitch!! Doesn’t she know one day those boobies will be mopping the floors for free?? (Insert Joan miming a boob mopping visual).

Or maybe she would have taken a different tack about any woman misguided enough to even snap pictures of themselves unclothed-

What is wrong with them? I’ve never even seen myself naked! How do you think I lived this long? (beat) And you wonder why Edgar killed himself.

Oh, grow up!!! You think she wouldn’t have gone there? Well, maybe she would have but surely she would’ve been funnier – a lot funnier. A lot, lot funnier. Which is one of so many reasons why we still need her around.

Would you expect anything less?

Would you expect anything less?

I tweeted this week that Joan Rivers was the only person who could offend me and make me laugh at exactly the same time. I meant it as the highest of compliments. I tend to lose my sense of humor about certain subjects that cut too close to the bone. For instance, I don’t find AIDS jokes funny. In the same way my parents’ friends don’t like to yuck it up about the Holocaust, Mel Brooks’ The Producers not withstanding.  Yet on the latter point here was Joan just a few months ago on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, explaining why she arrived to the studio late.

…They sent this big stretch Mercedes limousine for us and it got stuck – it wouldn’t move for two and a half hours! And I’m thinking the whole time, the Germans killed 6 million Jews and you can’t fix a f-cking carburetor?!

Oh Joan, Joan, Joan.

There is a brand of groundbreaking comedians who changed comedy so drastically that we will never quite see the likes of again because the times have changed so drastically since they started performing in the early and still uptight 1960s. Little-known names like Richard Pryor, Bill Cosby and Woody Allen (not to mention the tail end of Lenny Bruce) scrounged around the seedy little Bohemian nightclubs of Greenwich Village, New York hoping to board the train of fame and fortune but happy just to be making a couple of bucks.

That was a time when there were exactly two mainstream female standup comics in the entire world – Phyllis Diller and Totie Fields – neither of whom were in their twenties. But every so often through force of will and talent – and often it takes both – someone breaks through the glass ceiling that Hillary Clinton so famously referred to in her 2008 concession speech for the Democratic presidential nomination. This does not mean that even now we live in a post-racial, post-feminist, post-Holocaust or post-gay world – as any number of recent news events certainly bare witness to. It only means that occasionally an individual comes along that won’t be stopped, and they open the door for a few others of their kind who manage to sneak through, which makes the entrance even bigger for a larger but still select group of some more of their types to come in. That is, until it’s the turn of another totally different individual of still yet another group or sensibility – when the cycle starts all over again.

We can thank Joan for paving the way for these ladies

We can thank Joan for paving the way for these ladies

The Bottom line – or – to put it another way: It’s never particularly easy – ever – for anyone who aspires to be at the top of anything when they do not act or look like everyone else at the peak of that mountain that they aspire to.

The terrain one takes to get to the top of the mountain keeps getting updated but the climb is not dissimilar. And it’s an ongoing, lifetime fight that’s a lot more difficult to deal with than the cyber stealing of a celebrity’s private nude shots. Sure, the latter seems particularly sleazy and heinous at this time but is it any worse than the distribution of previously unseen nudies some unscrupulous photographer took that caused now famed TV and musical theatre actress Vanessa Williams, then the first black Miss America, to be deposed from her throne in 1983 for something she did when she was broke and needed the money? Those same types of photos were also taken three decades earlier of another young, aspiring star – Marilyn Monroe. But both didn’t do too badly for themselves (well, relatively) even as they tried to exploit, and in turn found themselves exploited by, the business they so very much wanted to become a part of.

One might argue that it is different in the case of the Jennifer Lawrence photos since they were private and not done under contract or paid for like the others. But that is precisely what is NOT the difference in 2014. NOTHING. IS. PRIVATE. Especially when it is committed to film or still photography. And most especially when its owner posts it anywhere online. Rule of thumb: assume once you’ve posted it anywhere it can easily be accessed ad infinitum everywhere.

Truth!

Truth!

Joan Rivers recognized where this was all going decades before any of the rest of us did. She operated from the idea that nothing was sacred – especially when it applied to the rich and famous – meaning the people who could afford to take it. And most especially when it came to her stock in trade – laughter.

When another funny woman, Nora Ephron, died several years ago, many of the post mortems cited one of her mottos that she claimed was given to her early on by another comedy writer – her late mother and Hollywood screenwriter, Phoebe Ephron. And that advice was:

Everything in your life that happens to you is material.

Joan took this adage one step further– Everything that happens to anyone else, everywhere else is your material.

And she would tell you where to stick it.

And she would tell you where to stick it.

Joan used this material for her comedy and she was fearless about it. She may or may not have meant it as a motto or way to live in the new 21st century world we are all forced to inhabit but when you stop and think it just might be a pretty smart strategy to realize that:

Nothing is sacred and not much can be hidden. So it’s probably a lot better to be open and honest about it all than to try and pretend you or it are something you’re not.

After all – as one speech teacher said to me years ago when I confessed I was quite nervous to get up in front of a room full of people – everyone goes to the bathroom the same way. Just picture them doing that – or naked in the shower. That should set your mind at ease. (Note: Yes, a teacher in school once told me that. And you wonder why I followed in that person’s footsteps).

But back to Joan, who I’m very happy not to ever have to follow even though in some small way I am.

The early days

The early days

Longevity and fearlessness are rarities in the Business of Show and even more infrequent in the Business of Life. People flame out – their fires doused by others or the group efforts of the unfriendly worlds that cohabitate all around them. That’s why a career of almost 60 years with its countless ups and downs, triumphs, offenses and reinventions – and most importantly – unerring ability to stay relevant to audiences and pop culture no matter what the cost – is worth saluting. Can you name another 81 year-old entertainer starring in three television shows and still doing 300 club dates per year cracking up people all over the world (or even offending them – it’s just the opposite side of the exactly the same coin) up until the night before they died? I certainly can’t. (Click here to take a small break with some of Joan’s best work)

Full confession: Despite having some mutual friends, I only got to speak to Joan at any great length more than a year ago at a friend’s birthday party. She was funny, self-deprecating and incredibly smart and well read – a softer, more thoughtful version of her stage persona – and a lot more gracious that I expected. After several hours together – and in one of the rare moments when the laughter died down – I decided to go for it and share something I told her I had always wanted to say to her. A long beat went by and she looked at me a bit fearfully and said, uh, oh.

My own "Can We Talk" moment

My own “Can We Talk” moment

Oh no, I responded, it’s nothing bad.

Okay, she said, still not quite believing.

It’s just that – I always wanted to thank you. See, in the early eighties you did the first AIDS benefit I ever went to at Studio One (NOTE: A small gay nightclub in West Hollywood) and it was at a time when no one else famous was really speaking up. I just so really appreciated it. As did many of my friends who are no longer here.

She looked back at me sincerely and said thank you and revealed that she had received several death threats that evening if she dared to perform.

Weren’t you afraid, I wondered?

A little, she responded. But we hired a couple of big bodyguards, who I’m sure everyone thought just worked there. I would never NOT do the show because of that.

Fearless.

In the middle, at the beginning and to the very end.