In the early seventies, comedy changed a lot in America — and especially stand-up comedy. This is my view as one who watched it happen. The three who most seemed to me to be at the forefront of that change were, in alphabetical order: George Carlin, Robert Klein and Richard Pryor. I could name a hundred ways in which they revolutionized the field but here are two: They appeared in mainstream comedy venues but addressed a younger audience, talking about topics that interested people under the age of, say, forty. And they became role models for countless others who saw what they were doing, said "That's what I wanna do" and at least tried.
They all did different things. Carlin had the sharpest writing, Klein had the classiest delivery, Pryor was the one whose comedy came the most from his own personality. Not that others did not also contribute to the new sensibility but those three men really stood out in their day. And every new comedian I met between about 1975 and 1978 wanted to be one or all of them…or maybe Steve Martin, who came to prominence at almost the same time. Martin inspired a lot of guys and I'm not sure I can explain why I always put him in another category.
Anyway, forget about if it's the Top Three or the Top Four or whatever. My point here is that Robert Klein was very important and he's also the only one still alive and doing stand-up. He did it last night out in Thousand Oaks and I can't tell you how much I enjoyed seeing that he can still do it, just about as good as he ever could, at the age of Almost 75.
He looks older, of course. He dresses better. He moves at about 90% of his old speed but it was amazing how much he moved, pacing back and forth across the stage to make sure he neglected no one in the house. He even did some very funny physical bits.
He sang. He talked. Most of what he talked about was directed at older folks which was fine because most of those in the audience were that. He spoke of medical problems at his age, being asked for I.D. when he tried to buy a six-pack of beer in a supermarket, acting jobs that have him playing the father of the female star when he used to be cast as a boy friend, problems relating to "those kids today" and many other topics, including a fond look back at Watergate and Bill Clinton's impeachment. Yes, he played the harmonica and yes, he had trouble stopping his leg.
I always liked this man. There were at least two things he did better than any of his contemporaries. One was that he was a terrific actor and when he delivers a line he's uttered a thousand times on stage, it still feels like he's improvising on the spot. The other is that he was one of the first stand-up comedians who looked like he could get laid. All the ones before him seemed to be (a) complaining about their wives, (b) immersed in self-deprecation or (c) kind of odd and/or neurotic and/or standoffish. You laughed at them you sure didn't want to be one of them or even hang out with them.
But Klein was handsome and funny and he could sing and he could really connect with an audience. He wasn't a mess of anxiety like Pryor. He wasn't a scold like Carlin could be at times. He wasn't putting on a character like Steve Martin or from another planet like Robin Williams or Andy Kaufman. Klein was just the funniest guy at the party. Unless you were alienated by his politics, he was impossible to dislike. The audience last night sure adored him.
And one other thing: I'm 64. I'm on a search now for role models to remind me that you can get older without getting old. That alone was worth the drive to Thousand Oaks.