The kvetching is over
WHEN JEWS WERE FUNNY doesn’t imply Jewish comics have lost their touch, but that the culture no longer needs humour to cope
The title seems like something of a misnomer: When Jews Were Funny. Whoa!
What does director Alan Zweig mean by “when” and “were”? Last I checked, Jewish comics were still holding their own.
In fact, Zweig fills his documentary with a gaggle of contemporary funny folk from the tribe: Gilbert Gottfried, Andy Kindler, Elon Gold, Judy Gold and Marc Maron, among others.
However, it turns out that the film — opening Monday at Cinéma du Parc and now playing at Cavendish cinema — isn’t meant as a slight to current Jewish comics. The doc is more of a cultural odyssey and reference point for Zweig, a secular Jew, who goes back to a period in time when the humour of his co-religionists, particularly that of regular folk, seemed to permeate all aspects of life, including showbiz. A funnier period in time for Zweig.
The title notwithstanding, the documentary provides fascinating insights while delivering a whack of zingers from comics both old and young. The doc made an immediate impact at its debut at the Toronto International Film Festival, where it won the prize for best Canadian feature — all the more impressive since it was up against some pretty heady competition, both fictional and non-fictional.
Zweig goes far afield in getting hold of some of the most prominent comics of yore in addition to the next generations of Jewish wits. What proves interesting is that the old-timers, for the most part, don’t think of themselves as Jewish comics, but just as comics.
Beit Shelley Berman, Shecky Greene, Jack Carter or Norm Crosby, the consensus is that they don’t like to dwell on their Jewishness. Funny is funny, regardless of which roots it springs from. Their contention is that they play to all ethnic groups, and with material that’s not necessarily Jewish-driven.
As a defiant Carter puts it: “I’m a Jew and I do comedy, but that’s about it.”
Curiously, it is David Steinberg, the pride of Winnipeg, who best sums up the state of comedy (professional and amateur), particularly as it pertains to his fellow Jews, although he may be between the older and the younger generations of standups: “The thing that helps humour is oppression. The thing that kills humour is assimilation.”
On that note, he believes that Jews used to be funnier, in the days when they spent much of their time trying to stay one step ahead of sabre-wielding Cossacks on horseback or, later, the Nazis.
Mark Breslin, founder of the Yuk Yuk’s comedy club chain, doesn’t disagree with Steinberg’s contention: “Jewish humour used to be all about kvetching (complaining), but there’s no need to kvetch now. We have it all.”
Comics like David Brenner and Bob Einstein (a.k.a. Super Dave Osborne) — between
“When I was a kid, even the Jewish comics that weren’t funny were funny.”
ALAN ZWEIG
generations, like Steinberg — concur that the old days were funnier. And not just for the pro comics. Brenner and Einstein insist that the funniest guys they knew were their fathers. And Brenner’s pop was a rabbi.
Today’s comics may be a little more self-conscious about their Jewishness. The ever-abrasive Gottfried points out that while much of the humour on Seinfeld had a Jewish tone, the show’s characters were mostly given goy-sounding names like Benes and Costanza — probably to draw a wider audience.
Yet Seinfeld the sitcom was, as its creators proudly professed, a show that presented much ado about nothing. And Seinfeld the standup does shtick of the same sort, which is rarely related to his Jewish roots.
Comedy has evolved. The religious lines are blurred. It’s more absurdist or stream-ofconsciousness. Be it Seinfeld or Adam Sandler, Maron or Sarah Silverman, their acts are hardly reminiscent of the Borscht Belt of yesteryear.
That is also reflected in the wit of unpaid Jewish comics today. Which, to Zweig’s mind, is not as funny as it was.
Zweig is not feeling quite so funny at the moment. He is about to undergo a root canal.
He is also a tad defensive about the title of his doc. “That’s just a title that was meant to be a little provocative,” he says in a telephone interview. “I still think there are plenty of funny Jewish comics. But when I was a kid, even the ones that weren’t funny were funny. And now the ones who aren’t funny really aren’t funny.
“But my point about the title and the film is that Jewish comedians are really not less funny than Jewish comedians were. But Jewish 75-year-olds at the deli now are less funny than their counterparts at the deli were. The title is When Jews Were Funny, not When Jewish Comedians Were Funny.”
Though the film is mostly populated by Jewish standups, Zweig didn’t intend to make a doc about standup comedy. It’s more about his coming to terms with his background.
“It comes from the fact of having friends who have known me a long time, coming out and telling me: ‘I hope you don’t mind if I’m having some bacon.’ And I say: ‘Dude, why would I mind?’ And they say: ‘You’re Jewish.’ And I say: ‘Really. Like I’m going home to (pray)?’ The point is I’m a cultural Jew, not a religious Jew. So I tried to make a film that was about being Jewish that was about the culture.
“My whole filmmaking career, I resisted invoking my Jewish background. But when that resistance broke, perhaps inevitably, I went full Jew.”
Zweig, a native Torontonian, has had a rather unorthodox career in film. He began 30 years ago as a driver on David Cronenberg’s Videodrome. He wrote an episode of Mr. T’s drama T and T, and acted in the underground short The Ballad of Don Quinn. He turned to directing documentaries in 2000, with credits including Vinyl, Lovable and I, Curmudgeon.
His 2009 feature, A Hard Name, a gritty doc about the struggles of ex-cons, won the Audience Award at Hot Docs and the Genie for best feature documentary. Two years ago, he was fêted with a retrospective at Hot Docs and was the subject of an homage on TVO.
Regardless of past accolades, Zweig was completely taken aback when his latest doc won the honour for best Canadian feature at the Toronto film festival.
“I’ve never, ever been more surprised by anything in my film career. But the festival saw the film the way I saw it. They didn’t see it as a film about Jewish comedians. It’s about a journey. In documentaries, people feel you have a thesis or are trying to prove a point. And I’m really not trying to prove anything. This is non-fiction, but it’s not 60 Minutes.”
As for his next project, Zweig has ideas, but is realistic about the nature of the documentary business. “I wanted to make more films about ex-cons, but I didn’t get to. There’s another aspect to Jewish culture I’d like to explore, but chances are nobody will go for that. They’ll say I did that in my last film.
“So I’ll probably just end up making a movie about what people say yes to. That’s the way it goes.”
When Jews Were Funny opens Monday at Cinéma du Parc and is now playing at Cavendish cinema.