There are those who in recent decades insisted that standup comedy eclipsed rock music as a dominant pop cultural force in America. Interestingly, the two strains even aligned for a while following the debut of Saturday Night Live in October 1975. Film and television were significantly changed by the successive generations of new young comics that arose in that longtime hit show’s wake and the comedy club boom that followed.
It’s not hard to see the Showtime series I’m Dying Up Here as a good chunk of the origin myth behind much of how today’s visual entertainment with a comedic slant came to be, accent on the notion “myth.” It is more inspired than in fact based on former Los Angeles Times journalist William Knoedelseder’s 2010 non-fiction book I’m Dying Up Here: Heartbreak and High Times in Standup Comedy’s Golden Age, which detailed how stars like Jay Leno, David Letterman, Richard Pryor, Robin Williams, Andy Kaufman and Elayne Boosler rose through LA’s Comedy Store in the 1970s, run by Mitzi Shore (mother of comic actor Pauly).
The Showtime series wisely chose to not attempt to recreate history and invented instead a parallel fictional world that is thankfully not burdened by the weight of too much roman a clef. The biggest direct link is the show’s setting, a comedy club, here called Goldie’s, for its owner of the same name, similarly eccentric as Mitzi Shore, marvelously played with moxie and grit by the supremely talented Melissa Leo. She provides a firm tentpole for a broad ensemble cast of characters that may strive a bit too much for representative breadth, but fortunately the show doesn’t try to link the rest with even hints of the real life comedians of the time.
It’s instructive to show why I’m Dying Up Here becomes an enjoyable series to follow by comparing it with HBO’s abysmal recent attempt to channel the music business of the same era with Vinyl. The lead and many supporting roles in that show were abysmally overwrought, and its plot lines verged into the absurd. The characters here feel like genuine people living out their professional ambitions and personal struggles, triumphs and issues in a believable milieu.
The look and design of the series is strongly and rather credibly redolent of the 1970s, recalling the look and feel of the era in a number of ways similar to Boogie Nights, the 1997 film about the porn industry later in the same decade as I’m Dying Up Here. There’s a gauzy, sun-drenched patina to how it was shot. The wardrobes and furnishings feel true to the era, as does the general ambiance plus the mannerisms of the characters.
One real-life aspect to the Comedy Store’s history that’s a rather plump skein throughout the show is how Goldie’s also serves as unpaid training ground and showcase for the gang of aspiring comics, thanks to, as with the Comedy Store, a direct pipeline to appearing on The Tonight Show. which for comedians was, at the time, the big break that led to launching a viable career. I’m Dying Up Here also weaves in the unique nature of the comedic personality – laughing on the outside, but sad inside – and the near eternal struggle in the creative realm between art and commerce.
And in its second season, some of its characters are starting to emerge as standouts: most especially the aspiring female comic Cassie from a small Texas town, charmingly played by Ari Graynor. This comes alongside a historical storyline of the era on emerging female standups.
All told, I’m Dying Up Here plays out like a fictional history that could have been. It’s an enjoyable story that has its laughs and fun alongside drama, pathos and romance.
TV Documentary: The History of Comedy – This smart and comprehensive eight-part series produced by CNN and streaming on Hulu looks at the art and its effects on entertainment, culture, society and politics.
TV Documentary; Too Funny To Fail – The Dana Carvey Show in 1996 had then-current star of TV (SNL) and films (Wayne’s World) backed by such players as Steve Carrell and Stephen Colbert plus writers Louis C.K. and Charlie Kaufman. The prime-time sketch show only made it through seven of its planned 11 episodes before being canceled. A lively look at its brilliance and failures.
CD: The Prodigal Son by Ry Cooder – The master roots musical artist tackles R&B and blues spiritual music with his usual piquant blend of authenticity yet contemporary appeal, with a generous slathering of his shimmering slide guitar work.
Rob Patterson is a music and entertainment writer in Austin, Texas. Email orca@prismnet.com.
From The Progressive Populist, October 15, 2018
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