Column #8: Finding good comedy is no laughing matter

At age 40, Ricky Gervais came out of nowhere to revolutionize both television and comedy with his BBC series The Office. He has proved time and again, on chat shows and award shows, podcasts and in other people's movies, to be one of the funniest humans around. Both of his TV series were funny and rewarding. So how did he end up writing, directing and starring in The Invention of Lying, just another predictable, clichéd, unfunny dog of a movie?

The essential ingredient to making good comedy is time. As a character in Woody Allen's Crimes and Misdemeanors notes, "Comedy is tragedy plus time." It's part of human nature to deal with a tragedy, like an exploding space shuttle, with humor; it's essential to our survival. But it's a different kind of time that is necessary for most comedy. Most comedies fail because not enough time is put into writing the script.

Jane Krakowski can be funny on 30 Rock because she has good material. Moviemaking requires months of 18-hour days, yet most comedies seem to have been written in a week. Though it seems foolish now, I cannot deny that I have seen both Extract and The Invention of Lying. Both movies were fairly well-reviewed, and both were written by one of my favorite comedy makers. So why, oh why, were both about as funny as Precious?

Mike Judge is the visionary behind Beavis & Butt-Head, King of the Hill and Office Space. Find me a writer with a better ability to turn relatable, banal real life into comedy gold and I'll be there to cheer 'em on. So why is his most recent work, Extract, an implausible, dull, misogynistic loser that looks like it was filmed in 1971?

Movies can seduce you with a witty trailer and an appealing poster, only to turn out to be a hot mess, like an eHarmony personal ad that leads to an awkward date at T.G.I. Friday's. But other movies, like the Coen brothers' masterful A Serious Man, can be exciting and thought-provoking long after the credits roll.

It's my fault, I know. I've been fooled many times, sitting through painfully stupid movies starring Chris Rock, Steve Martin, Jim Carrey, Will Ferrell or Bill Murray. I love comedy so much that I've wasted probably 200 hours of my life hating bad comedies. Some wake up every day and have a cigarette; I wake up every day glad that I haven't seen Mike Myers in The Love Guru. (And I proudly own a DVD copy of the Don Knotts movie The Love God).

Every week, I record Saturday Night Live, praying for at least two minutes of genuine mirth and rarely getting more. I don't understand why they can't write fewer fart sketches and book more comedians who have time-tested material ready and waiting for a national audience. In the past, they have helped expose comics like Andy Kaufman and Steven Wright, and the republic didn't fall.

If Woody Allen has made a dozen horrible movies, he has also made a dozen of my very favorites as well. The Coens hit a homer this time, but only after failing three of their last four outings. A glance at movie comedies that work shows that creativity and risk-taking really do pay off. Whether it's The Hangover or Caddyshack, Airplane! or Some Like It Hot, those willing to risk offending a few to make the rest of us laugh have certainly done well.

Sometimes I think that comedy is mad at us. Really, though, a bunch of lazy people are just exploiting their good name and our need to have a good laugh to make more money for themselves. In 2010, I resolve to avoid any Eddie Murphy, Robin Williams or Adam Sandler movie that won't be funny for as long as it takes me to eat my popcorn.

C. 2009 Velocity Weekly

Column #7: Peace, love, joy, books and DVDs

I believe in presents. Thank you, Gap ad, for reminding me that this is the season of not only Christmas, but also Hanukkah and, yes, you too, Kwanzaa. If not for your appearance on my TV screen every minute, perhaps I might have forgotten about this most holy time of the year. Or, perhaps not. I look forward to this annual rite of merchandising for two reasons. One, time off. How the U.S. of A., the home of the guy who decided to merge bacon and mayonnaise, also became the home of the “work ethic” while Europeans and Latin Americans get six weeks off every year and take three-hour lunch breaks every day while we scarf down our Cheetos and Coke lunches in 15 minutes is, simply, horrifying.

That day off after Thanksgiving is awesome, of course. Getting both Christmas and Boxing Day off is also nice. However, nothing is more wonderful than getting presents. Family? Please. Togetherness? That's stupid. Love? Yawn. The 20th anniversary edition of Say Anything? Cool! Is it as exciting as the Nirvana: Live at Reading DVD? Why not ask for both?

I was raised by people who consider themselves to be Jewish. You might think that being raised Jewish is easy, but for the most part it just leaves us jumpy every time we hear someone say the word “Jew,” or even a word that merely sounds like it. We see the world that's divided into Jews and “everyone else.” Through the years, I have considered whether this may or may not be a viable option for me. Ultimately, it has become obvious that I must finally go my own way; not united but not divided with anyone else. I know now that what I am can only truly be called a "Presenterian."

Hanukkah is a pretty good deal, sure. Eight gifts over eight nights, that would be more than enough for some folks. However, I say, “Why stop there?” In my single days, there would be the occasional night when I would order a pizza, and then eat it, all by myself, in one sitting. Not just a slice or two, the whole thing, not even leaving a slice for lunch the following day. Thankfully, and despite this, I eventually found a woman who accepted me, mostly. Even better, she isn't Jewish — which meant that I was now eligible for Christmas presents on top of Hanukkah presents.

I mean, I'm not saying that we got married because of that. Or because a wedding meant lots of presents. But I didn't mind those things. No one does. It's a fact that Gandhi loved getting leg warmers and a new tie every year for Christmas. Marrying into a large gentile family means getting so many more gifts than I ever got before. Even better, I can boast freely about that here, because most of them don't even read my column.

Speaking of togetherness, I must take a moment here to complain about those fat cats in Hollywood. They know that we're going to be stuck sitting on couches with uncles and cousins for hours at a time, so why do all the good TV programs go into reruns or on hiatus during the holidays? I would rather share a fresh episode of Breaking Bad or Project Runway than kill time with Hallmark Presents: A Dog Named Christmas. Also, how come the fun movies like The Hangover and Up come out in the summer, while the dark, tragic movies like Precious come out now, when we're bonding as a family? Do the math, Hollywood.

I'm just glad that during this very special time of the year we remember what's truly important — me getting that new book about “The Simpsons” that I've been looking forward to reading.

c. 2009 Velocity Weekly