Movie Review

Review: The Aristocrats

Pat enticed me to go to this movie, which I hadn’t heard of. He gave me a short intro before the reel rolled. I’ve just read some reviews, which were all sub-rave positive. My take? If you’re trying to establish or maintain the image that you are a sophisticated intellectual, who can see beyond the social prison imposed by conventional morality, tell your listeners you really liked this movie. Say you now have a deep understanding of comedians and what makes them tick. If your self-image, like mine, is pleasantly fermenting in a landfill, protected by an acid stench that only certain birds will penetrate, feel free to groan and let that groan turn into a mantra that takes you beyond the sad comedy of this clubby documentary. I did laugh a few times, but mostly mildewed as the reservist roster of PROMINENT COMEDIANS OF OUR TIME let us into their inner sanctum by reciting their oh-so-creative versions of this anally retentive non-joke. It’s the comedian version of jock bravado. We’re so brave we let the vile-adolescent-in-us-all out to play. Hey public, if you were that brave, you’d get to sell tickets to the schmucks and tell this joke backstage, because only true pros can handle this genitalia. Maybe it’s the climate here in the rainy Pacific Northwest that makes me cynical. Maybe if I still lived in Arizona or moved to L.A. the sunshine would allow me to appreciate even the faintest entertainments. Ah, Kurt Cobain. Now there’s a funny fucking story.