Four Books, One Review, or Funny, Smart People I Love
Although I’m hardly a comedian myself, it seems like I’ve always been drawn to funny people, particularly comedy ensembles. Something about the camaraderie makes the humor even more appealing. I loved Laugh-In as a kid, even if I was a bit too young to get all the jokes, and Saturday Night Live was the first show I remember making an effort to stay up late enough to see. Around the same time, my parents and I discovered a little Canadian show by way of PBS called SCTV; I remember the first episode I saw was an extended sketch episode revolving around the horribly cheesy “Solid Gold Marathon.” But it wasn’t until I received Bob and Doug McKenzie’s hit comedy album for my birthday that I became a big fan of the show, even going so far as to make coffee for my sister and I so we could both watch the show when it was aired super late on NBC. And then in the late 80s/early 90s, I discovered another Canadian comedy troupe known as The Kids in the Hall.
So, as you can imagine, the past couple of months have been very exciting book-wise for me because not one, not two or three, but four comics whose work I have enjoyed for so many years have written books about their lives and careers: two from SCTV, one from the Kids in the Hall, and one from Saturday Night Live, although I didn’t really become a fan until I saw her in Parks and Recreation. As much as I admired my favorite comic actors, I never would have imagined as I watched them that I would have a chance to share their insights into their lives and thoughts. To honor this rare and welcome occasion, I have written up my thoughts about and impressions of each one.
I began my journey into comedian memoirs with Andrea Martin’s book, Lady Parts. Throughout the book, she jumps back and forth between time periods, which may sound a bit disorienting, but I never felt lost, and it doesn’t take away from either the humor or the pathos she relates. Unlike fellow cast mate Dave Thomas, whose own book basically chronicles the history of SCTV without much personal reflection, Martin includes a wealth of personal information about her life and career, saving her SCTV memories for last. Since that show was such an important part of my youth, I was highly interested in that section, but it was hardly the only thing I enjoyed in the book. It’s hard to find one-liners or short passages to represent her humor and style because most of it comes from the stories she tells. Her harrowing account of when her red Mustang was stolen at gunpoint hit home for me as a not-so-young red Mustang driver myself!
I was surprised at just how vulnerable she revealed herself to be, but after reading, it is easy to see how she channeled that neurosis and vulnerability into her characters, even ones as different as loudmouth no-filter Edith Prickly and uber self-conscious Libby Wolfson (who, we learn in a special - and funny - chapter in this book, does not take the news that she is going through menopause well). In fact, the chapters that highlight the nearly polar opposite characteristics of Edith and Libby show just what a multifaceted person Andrea is - how most women are. Anyone who knows how tough it is to be a working actress, and a single mom on top of that, knows that she must be very tough inside to have persevered (and she is still going strong).
Bruce McCulloch is such an engaging performer that his opening declaration “I am a writer,” came as a bit of a surprise to me. It’s easy to forget how much of comedy is the result of hours and days of careful, often laborious writing. Let’s Start a Riot is described as having “surprising moments of poignancy.” It’s true that those moments kind of sneak up on you, like when he describes how his young daughter helped him when he was bombing at an event at her school (and it sneaks up on you again when he later relates how he helped his own, less deserving dad). And while it is often said that when someone reads something a well-known actor or actress has written, the reader can hear the writer’s voice, this is especially true of McCulloch, whose distinctive speech patterns and cadence come through loud and clear for anyone who’s listened to his many memorable monologues. A taste of McCulloch’s comedy thought process in the book is his reaction to coming upon, and capturing a picture of, an open diaper, headphones, and a shot-sized bottle of SKYY vodka on the side of the road:
Wasn’t that a party? Clearly, it was the baby who was drinking. Look at the size of the bottle. I can’t figure out those headphones, though. What kind of music do babies listens to these days?
I think this picture tells a classic Hollywood story: baby drives home drunk from the Viper Room, blaring loud music, doesn’t hear the siren, and, when he finally notices the flashing lights, shits himself. See? Things never change in Hollywood.
Some have criticized McCulloch for referring to his wife only as “Pretty Wife,” which I find silly. Part of it is to give her a little bit of anonymity (and considering some of the private details he spills, it’s probably a good thing he did). More importantly, if she’s OK with it, I am, too.
He also confirms more than once how the Kids in the Hall were pretty much meant to come together. I had read stories that mentioned the animosity between them, particularly McCulloch and Scott Thompson, but after I read what McCulloch writes about “the Showman,” such ideas were smashed to bits. As an angry and misunderstood young man with a truly crappy family life, it was obviously a huge comfort for McCulloch to not only find a new family of kindred spirits with the other Kids in the Hall, but one that gave him an outlet to share his talents and attract many more like minded fans; and this book is a cranky but heartfelt thank you/love letter to all of us who also get him.
My days of being able to stay up late enough to actually watch Saturday Night Live while it is being aired are for the most part over. However, one of the few episodes I did manage to catch live was when Sarah Palin was the guest. I was pretty impressed by Amy Poehler’s iconic Sarah Palin rap, done right in front of Palin while Poehler was very pregnant. But after that, she sort of fell off my radar. Then I saw the movie Baby Mama, and greatly enjoyed the chemistry between her and Tina Fey. Then I decided on a whim to check out a show called Parks and Recreation that I’d been hearing good things about, and I basically fell for her Leslie Knope character. Of course what makes the show work is the terrific ensemble cast, but Leslie is at the heart and center of it all. Amy and Leslie may be quite different, but there is also a whole lot of Poehler that comes through. I think the producers knew that in order to make an annoyingly perky and Pollyanna character like Leslie palatable, they needed an actress with the spark and sincerity to make it work, and Poehler certainly does.
So I was pretty excited when I learned that Poehler had written a memoir. Not only is it funny, as expected, but it’s a pretty smart book, too. She manages to walk the fine line between giving empowering advice without sounding preachy. She also knows that making positive changes in society won’t always change the way people think, as when she writes:
The legacy of my generation will be that we have truly expanded the idea of what ‘family’ means. It is no longer unusual for people who choose surrogacy, gay adoption, IVF, international and domestic adoption, fostering, and childlessness to live side by side and quietly judge each other. We can all live in peace thinking our way is the best way and everything else is cuckoo.
And I love how she goes after mothers who attack each other over everything from breastfeeding to child care by pointing out that they should just worry about what works best for them:
Good for her! Not for me. That is the motto women should constantly repeat over and over again.
As a reflection of her generous team spirit, Poehler has Seth Meyers and even her parents contribute some pages, and after her parents give their impressions of the day she was born, there is a blank page for the reader to write about the day he or she was born. It may seem a bit unnecessary to some, but I thought it was a nice touch and clearly shows how important family is to her. The real fun is the career stuff, chronicling her rise in the comedy world ranks. Her apology story, is a highlight, as is her comparison of an apology from the brain and one from the heart. She and Tina Fey (whose own book Bossypants I also read and enjoyed) are a mutual admiration society who also share a hatred for those who judge them for being working mothers. It is definitely more advice-y than the other books, but she’s certainly entitled to it, since she’s pretty accomplished. And the ending made me smile, a lot.
I have to admit that when Martin Short joined the cast of SCTV, I felt a bit of resentment toward him, probably because I associate his coming on the show with the exit of Rick Moranis, Dave Thomas, Catherine O’Hara, and John Candy since they happened at about the same time (in fact, that was part of the reason Martin was brought on the show). But I quickly warmed to his characters, particularly Ed Grimly (I think it was “The Fella Who Couldn’t Wait for Christmas” that really won me over). And his Jerry Lewis impression? Perfect.
Like (Andrea) Martin's book, Short’s humor is not well captured in short quotes (with the exception of his characters’ catchphrases, of course). Short’s writing voice has a droll, quiet tone that is a sharp contrast both to that of the previous books and to his rambling, often manic characters. Each of them get an appearance in the book, and they are all fun to read and capture what makes each character so smart and memorable. He’s also gotten to meet pretty much every famous person in Hollywood, from old schoolers like Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., Phyllis Diller, and Buddy Hackett to some of the best known of his contemporaries. It is telling that he looks back on his SCTV days with the most fondness and personal satisfaction, although he’s lucky enough to have since become friends with greats such as Tom Hanks and Steve Martin (whose reaction to learning about Short’s wife’s cancer is sweet and heart wrenching).
Choosing the “best” out of these four books is both a pointless and impossible task, but I can group them into superlatives, high school style:
Most Inspiring - Martin Short: Along with a pretty amazing life, he has had some really tough breaks, but his good humor and imagination have kept him going.
The One I’d Most want to Hang Out With - Amy Poehler: I’m pretty boring, though, so we’d probably need a buffer to help bring me out (Bossypants reference).
Most Surprising - Bruce McCulloch: Who’d have thought the man who created Cabbage Head would turn out to be such a great dad, or write a tribute as touching (if still cynical) tribute as “Vigil”?
Most Fierce - Andrea Martin: She may come across as a bundle of neuroses at times, but that just makes her uninhibited Edith Prickly side and trapeze antics all the more impressive. No wonder Tina Fey wants to marry her.
As you may have discerned by now, I would recommend all of these books to anyone who is a fan of these people, or comedy in general. Each one, in his or her own way, reveals something about how powerful humor can be to get us through tough times and unleash our inner strength. I’m always a bit wary when it comes to finding out what people I admire are really like, but I can say that after reading these books, I admire and respect them even more. And, yeah, they’re pretty funny, too. So get reading!
So, as you can imagine, the past couple of months have been very exciting book-wise for me because not one, not two or three, but four comics whose work I have enjoyed for so many years have written books about their lives and careers: two from SCTV, one from the Kids in the Hall, and one from Saturday Night Live, although I didn’t really become a fan until I saw her in Parks and Recreation. As much as I admired my favorite comic actors, I never would have imagined as I watched them that I would have a chance to share their insights into their lives and thoughts. To honor this rare and welcome occasion, I have written up my thoughts about and impressions of each one.
I began my journey into comedian memoirs with Andrea Martin’s book, Lady Parts. Throughout the book, she jumps back and forth between time periods, which may sound a bit disorienting, but I never felt lost, and it doesn’t take away from either the humor or the pathos she relates. Unlike fellow cast mate Dave Thomas, whose own book basically chronicles the history of SCTV without much personal reflection, Martin includes a wealth of personal information about her life and career, saving her SCTV memories for last. Since that show was such an important part of my youth, I was highly interested in that section, but it was hardly the only thing I enjoyed in the book. It’s hard to find one-liners or short passages to represent her humor and style because most of it comes from the stories she tells. Her harrowing account of when her red Mustang was stolen at gunpoint hit home for me as a not-so-young red Mustang driver myself!
I was surprised at just how vulnerable she revealed herself to be, but after reading, it is easy to see how she channeled that neurosis and vulnerability into her characters, even ones as different as loudmouth no-filter Edith Prickly and uber self-conscious Libby Wolfson (who, we learn in a special - and funny - chapter in this book, does not take the news that she is going through menopause well). In fact, the chapters that highlight the nearly polar opposite characteristics of Edith and Libby show just what a multifaceted person Andrea is - how most women are. Anyone who knows how tough it is to be a working actress, and a single mom on top of that, knows that she must be very tough inside to have persevered (and she is still going strong).
Bruce McCulloch is such an engaging performer that his opening declaration “I am a writer,” came as a bit of a surprise to me. It’s easy to forget how much of comedy is the result of hours and days of careful, often laborious writing. Let’s Start a Riot is described as having “surprising moments of poignancy.” It’s true that those moments kind of sneak up on you, like when he describes how his young daughter helped him when he was bombing at an event at her school (and it sneaks up on you again when he later relates how he helped his own, less deserving dad). And while it is often said that when someone reads something a well-known actor or actress has written, the reader can hear the writer’s voice, this is especially true of McCulloch, whose distinctive speech patterns and cadence come through loud and clear for anyone who’s listened to his many memorable monologues. A taste of McCulloch’s comedy thought process in the book is his reaction to coming upon, and capturing a picture of, an open diaper, headphones, and a shot-sized bottle of SKYY vodka on the side of the road:
Wasn’t that a party? Clearly, it was the baby who was drinking. Look at the size of the bottle. I can’t figure out those headphones, though. What kind of music do babies listens to these days?
I think this picture tells a classic Hollywood story: baby drives home drunk from the Viper Room, blaring loud music, doesn’t hear the siren, and, when he finally notices the flashing lights, shits himself. See? Things never change in Hollywood.
Some have criticized McCulloch for referring to his wife only as “Pretty Wife,” which I find silly. Part of it is to give her a little bit of anonymity (and considering some of the private details he spills, it’s probably a good thing he did). More importantly, if she’s OK with it, I am, too.
He also confirms more than once how the Kids in the Hall were pretty much meant to come together. I had read stories that mentioned the animosity between them, particularly McCulloch and Scott Thompson, but after I read what McCulloch writes about “the Showman,” such ideas were smashed to bits. As an angry and misunderstood young man with a truly crappy family life, it was obviously a huge comfort for McCulloch to not only find a new family of kindred spirits with the other Kids in the Hall, but one that gave him an outlet to share his talents and attract many more like minded fans; and this book is a cranky but heartfelt thank you/love letter to all of us who also get him.
My days of being able to stay up late enough to actually watch Saturday Night Live while it is being aired are for the most part over. However, one of the few episodes I did manage to catch live was when Sarah Palin was the guest. I was pretty impressed by Amy Poehler’s iconic Sarah Palin rap, done right in front of Palin while Poehler was very pregnant. But after that, she sort of fell off my radar. Then I saw the movie Baby Mama, and greatly enjoyed the chemistry between her and Tina Fey. Then I decided on a whim to check out a show called Parks and Recreation that I’d been hearing good things about, and I basically fell for her Leslie Knope character. Of course what makes the show work is the terrific ensemble cast, but Leslie is at the heart and center of it all. Amy and Leslie may be quite different, but there is also a whole lot of Poehler that comes through. I think the producers knew that in order to make an annoyingly perky and Pollyanna character like Leslie palatable, they needed an actress with the spark and sincerity to make it work, and Poehler certainly does.
So I was pretty excited when I learned that Poehler had written a memoir. Not only is it funny, as expected, but it’s a pretty smart book, too. She manages to walk the fine line between giving empowering advice without sounding preachy. She also knows that making positive changes in society won’t always change the way people think, as when she writes:
The legacy of my generation will be that we have truly expanded the idea of what ‘family’ means. It is no longer unusual for people who choose surrogacy, gay adoption, IVF, international and domestic adoption, fostering, and childlessness to live side by side and quietly judge each other. We can all live in peace thinking our way is the best way and everything else is cuckoo.
And I love how she goes after mothers who attack each other over everything from breastfeeding to child care by pointing out that they should just worry about what works best for them:
Good for her! Not for me. That is the motto women should constantly repeat over and over again.
As a reflection of her generous team spirit, Poehler has Seth Meyers and even her parents contribute some pages, and after her parents give their impressions of the day she was born, there is a blank page for the reader to write about the day he or she was born. It may seem a bit unnecessary to some, but I thought it was a nice touch and clearly shows how important family is to her. The real fun is the career stuff, chronicling her rise in the comedy world ranks. Her apology story, is a highlight, as is her comparison of an apology from the brain and one from the heart. She and Tina Fey (whose own book Bossypants I also read and enjoyed) are a mutual admiration society who also share a hatred for those who judge them for being working mothers. It is definitely more advice-y than the other books, but she’s certainly entitled to it, since she’s pretty accomplished. And the ending made me smile, a lot.
I have to admit that when Martin Short joined the cast of SCTV, I felt a bit of resentment toward him, probably because I associate his coming on the show with the exit of Rick Moranis, Dave Thomas, Catherine O’Hara, and John Candy since they happened at about the same time (in fact, that was part of the reason Martin was brought on the show). But I quickly warmed to his characters, particularly Ed Grimly (I think it was “The Fella Who Couldn’t Wait for Christmas” that really won me over). And his Jerry Lewis impression? Perfect.
Like (Andrea) Martin's book, Short’s humor is not well captured in short quotes (with the exception of his characters’ catchphrases, of course). Short’s writing voice has a droll, quiet tone that is a sharp contrast both to that of the previous books and to his rambling, often manic characters. Each of them get an appearance in the book, and they are all fun to read and capture what makes each character so smart and memorable. He’s also gotten to meet pretty much every famous person in Hollywood, from old schoolers like Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., Phyllis Diller, and Buddy Hackett to some of the best known of his contemporaries. It is telling that he looks back on his SCTV days with the most fondness and personal satisfaction, although he’s lucky enough to have since become friends with greats such as Tom Hanks and Steve Martin (whose reaction to learning about Short’s wife’s cancer is sweet and heart wrenching).
Choosing the “best” out of these four books is both a pointless and impossible task, but I can group them into superlatives, high school style:
Most Inspiring - Martin Short: Along with a pretty amazing life, he has had some really tough breaks, but his good humor and imagination have kept him going.
The One I’d Most want to Hang Out With - Amy Poehler: I’m pretty boring, though, so we’d probably need a buffer to help bring me out (Bossypants reference).
Most Surprising - Bruce McCulloch: Who’d have thought the man who created Cabbage Head would turn out to be such a great dad, or write a tribute as touching (if still cynical) tribute as “Vigil”?
Most Fierce - Andrea Martin: She may come across as a bundle of neuroses at times, but that just makes her uninhibited Edith Prickly side and trapeze antics all the more impressive. No wonder Tina Fey wants to marry her.
As you may have discerned by now, I would recommend all of these books to anyone who is a fan of these people, or comedy in general. Each one, in his or her own way, reveals something about how powerful humor can be to get us through tough times and unleash our inner strength. I’m always a bit wary when it comes to finding out what people I admire are really like, but I can say that after reading these books, I admire and respect them even more. And, yeah, they’re pretty funny, too. So get reading!