Sitting Down to a History of TV Stand-Up

By CHUCK CRISAFULLI

June 18, 1996 12 AM PT

SPECIAL THE TIMES

If life turns absurd, when should we laugh?

The answer, and the specific absurdities, have long been the domain of that odd creature of warped wisdom--the stand-up comic. As history has run its repeats of tragedy and farce, comics have helped maintain perspective through sly observation, sharp irreverence and gleeful debunking. And in the TV age, the best stand-ups have been our philosopher-clowns, offering insight by way of laughter to an audience of millions.

A fine collection of comic insights is being showcased at the Museum of Television & Radio in Beverly Hills, as part of a retrospective exhibition titled “Stand-Up Comedians on Television.” The exhibition’s varied screenings cover almost 50 years of stand-up appearances on TV and are organized thematically, presenting comparable comics in groups with titles like “Wisenheimers,” “Working-Class Stiffs” or “Troublemakers.” Comics ranging from Abbott and Costello to the Smothers Brothers, from Lenny Bruce to Jim Carrey, are seen in appearances on variety shows, talk shows, specials and sitcoms, with each segment getting a two-week run.

Beginning Wednesday, the museum offers a glimpse of the evolution of TV as a forum for social satire, with a screening titled “The Sage.” The comic as sage views human foibles with the eyes of a skeptical outsider and offers--even beyond the laughter--a voice of reason during unreasonable times. “The Sage” includes such bits as an early ‘60s Bob Newhart battle with uncooperative technology, an early ‘70s George Carlin deconstruction of local news and a twisted 1980 lecture from Alan King on the state of the Middle East.

Also included is the work of Bill Maher, veteran stand-up and sharp-tongued host of Comedy Central’s freewheeling panel show “Politically Incorrect.” Before leaving town recently to begin a book tour for his newly published collection of material from the show, “Does Anybody Have a Problem With That?,” Maher sat in at a preview screening of “The Sage” to offer a highly subjective running commentary on TV’s satiric lineage.

Maher is laughing from the start, as a vintage Newhart describes a family trip devolving into chaos when a coin bounces out of the basket of an automatic toll machine. “I’m an admirer of his,” says Maher, “but to me the funniest thing here is that what was considered confusing technology at the time was a toll basket!”

Maher sees the leisurely pace of Newhart’s material as evidence of the different kind of relationship comics had with their audiences all those years ago. “He took 30 or 40 seconds to set up this scenario, before he got to any jokes--and that’s a great indication of the patience the audience had then. He was in no rush. To take that kind of time today--you’re dead.”

Maher’s laughs become louder as Carlin begins his faux newscast with such “sick” headlines as “Welcome wagon runs over newcomer” and “Pen pal stabs pal with pen.”

“In 1971, when I was 15, I was listening to his albums a lot,” Maher says. “George Carlin was in my pantheon right away. He’s such a great technician--the way he built these bits and acted out these characters. And it was a big deal to hear the dirty words on a record back then.”

Carlin’s TV clips have him toning down some of the language he used on those records, but the comic’s groundbreaking use of “dirty words” did have a direct influence on Maher’s stand-up. “In my stand-up--as opposed to what I do on the show--I’m dirty,” Maher says with a shrug. “Not intentionally or gratuitously, but I think there are some things that require honest telling. That’s what stand-up’s for. It’s not right to say the words just to punch up a cheap laugh. But if the right word is a dirty one--I’m not going to clean it up.”

In a 1980 Thanksgiving special, Alan King is seen pointing to a map of the Middle East, trying to make some sense of the region’s muddled politics “as a public service.” Maher is almost immediately in stitches.

“He’s the master craftsman. He’s great. And he’s always had that great political edge--not afraid to speak to an issue. I remember watching this when it first ran, and I thought it was sheer genius. Now I can see that it’s kind of a vaudeville bit with some corny jokes, but just the idea that he would try something like this is amazing.”

Maher’s comedy often mixes substantial issues with a degree of silliness, and he cites King as a great instructor in that technique. “I try to do what he’s always done with current events material, which is presenting it so that the audience member who’s completely in the dark about everything can still find something amusing about what you’re doing. You need to work on both serious and silly levels when you’re taking on an issue.”

Maher doesn’t seem particularly taken with the political song parodies of Mark Russell and isn’t keen on watching his own segment from “Politically Incorrect,” but his attention is riveted when Dennis Miller pops up on screen.

“We get compared to each other a lot,” Maher says. “And I think we do have more in common than either of us has in common with most other comics. But we have different styles. He’s pure verbal. Dennis is all from the brain. I happen to like that a lot. But some people need a little more acting with their comedy--a little more love,” he says and laughs.

As young comic Marc Maron begins a manic bit on miscommunication, Maher proudly claims, “We had him on the show.” But, when asked about the satisfaction of helping out younger talents, he makes it clear that he disdains those in Hollywood who spend too much time congratulating themselves for sharing their spotlight.

“I give time to anybody who can do good on the show. I’m not doing it for them. When anybody in show biz talks about giving back to anybody else--it’s a lot of bull. Giving something back is nice, but I wouldn’t do it at the expense of the show.”

Some concise responses are evoked by the final clips of Chris Rock (“I love him”) and Robin Williams, Billy Crystal and Whoopi Goldberg performing as part of a Comic Relief fund-raiser (“Enough already”).

Before departing, Maher adds a few final thoughts on his roll through comedy’s TV past. “As you can see through all these clips, stand-up is certainly an ongoing process. There’s always a lot to learn, and I guess I’m glad I’ve kept up with my graduate studies. It really does get better if you work at it, and it’s inspiring to see so many stand-ups who took it to a higher level. When I think about what I do--even with all the good things that are happening for the show--I’m enjoying my stand-up more now than I ever did. There’s some real satisfaction there.”

As to being considered among the sages of social satire, the usually brash Maher turns almost bashful. “Well, I’m honored to be in their midst. But I think a lot of us have just always approached being funny in the same way--open today’s paper and find the comedy in there. It’s pretty simple. Our worst enemy is a slow news week.”

* The Museum of Radio and Television, 465 N. Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills, is open Wednesdays-Sundays, noon-5 p.m. and Thursday evenings until 9. Suggested admission is $6 for adults, $4 for students and senior citizens, $3 for children under 13.

* Maher performs his stand-up act during two shows at the La Jolla Playhouse on June 29. Tickets are $34-$24. Call (619) 550-1010.