Movie Review

The Aristocrats

The set-up is simple - very simple. So goes for this movie itself, as well as the titular joke upon which it is based. "The Aristocrats" is the oldest and potentially filthiest joke in modern comedy, a pass-down from the Vaudeville era that somehow resonates even with the comedians of today. The thing about the joke is - there is no joke; the only requirement is a basic setup about a family taking their stage act to a talent agent. The act is called, surely enough, "The Aristocrats." Where's the joke, you may ask? I was wondering that myself. All the funniness is supposed to emanate from each different comedian's description of the act that the family does; the more that the details shock and push the envelope, the more respect the inventive comic apparently garners. And there are a lot of damn comedians in this documentary, all telling this same open-ended joke. And they all look bad as a result of being in it.

I have been fascinated with comedy since a relatively young age. I especially love stand-up and consider myself an academic observer of the techniques that performers employ to generate laughter. I feel that I know good comedy when I see it and bad comedy as well. Plenty of people interviewed in this film have provided the world with classic bits of humor, and this is exactly what makes The Aristocrats so monumentally frustrating. After this movie I was actually driven to think that comedy might not be so great after all, and that is a distressing notion. I mean, there are so few laughs coming from so many iconic figures that I felt nothing but disillusionment. None of the personalities manage to light up the screen sufficiently.

I wasn't that bored during the film but it really gnawed at me after I left. I realized how devoid of entertainment value the flick truly is, and how much potential it wasted on such a thin concept. It's not exactly the height of spontaneity to have the same punchline being told every single time (which is not inherently funny in the first place); I realize it's supposed to be an ironic twist on the disgusting verbiage that precedes it, but what we're stuck with works much better in theory than in practice. When the camera slow-zooms down a hotel hallway and we hear Steven Wright's ultra-deadpan voice speaking his version of the joke, we think we're in for a treat; by the time he utters the two-word title-punch, it seems more like a cheap trick. As for all the so-called edgy vulgarity that the comics indulge in, it comes off as nothing more than tasteless schtick. The foul dialogue conjures gross images and is expected to shoulder the joke's burden alone. Unfortunately, things like timing and wit get lost in the mix.

There's just nothing really good in this film. It's not cinematic and doesn't work as any kind of historical document. It seems like the whole purpose for making this thing was so Paul Provenza and Penn Jillette could show off how many comics they could get to appear on camera. It apparently took four years to make in order to get interviews with all the famous and/or busy folk in the chuckle world, but it still has the feel of something that was hacked together in a few weeks or months. This movie is one of the best motivating forces I can think of for somebody to get into comedy; if all of these schmucks can make it, you probably can too.

Scott's Grade: D+

A	15.1%
B	59.2%
C	24.5%
D	1.2%
F	0.0%