Paul Provenza, Penn Jillette and the Filthiest Joke
Ever Told
7/24/2005
Posted by Collider Staff
Posted by Mr.
Beaks The great irony of what is surely the funniest joke you will ever hear
is that it ends with a hopelessly inscrutable, resoundingly unfunny punch
line: “The
Aristocrats”.
What
may have, at one time, been a savagely satiric indictment of the ruling class
has since become a liberating excuse for comedians to work as blue as
possible. The set up
of the joke has a family of entertainers walking into a talent agent’s office to
sell their act – an act that encompasses, for starters, sex, incest, sodomy and
beastiality (provided the teller is bold enough to work in the family
dog). The comic is
encouraged to let his vulgar imagination run wild for as long as possible until
they’ve exhausted their capacity to offend, at which point the talent agent asks
the family what, in the name of the god that must be absent or indifferent to
allow such vile inhumanity, they call the act. “The Aristocrats.” It’s a joke that only a comic’s comic could pull
off, a notion reinforced by the realization that the only way Gallagher could
conceivably e;xe;cute; it would be to drag his family onstage and rape
them with the Sledge-O-Matic, which would get him arrested and, therefore,
effectively end his career.
Dare to dream.
However, in lieu of Gallagher, director Paul Provenza and executive
producer Penn Jillette, called on damn near every great stand-up comic working
today to work their uniquely twisted variation on the joke. It’s quite a roster: George Carlin, Steven Wright,
Richard Lewis, Dom Irrera, Trey Parker & Matt Stone, Eddie Izzard, Lewis
Black, and the list goes on.
It’s hard to imagine there will be a funnier film released to
theaters this year. A week ago, I sat down for a very small roundtable interview with the
gloriously indecent minds behind The Aristocrats, Provenza and Jillette, who discussed, among
many other topics, the genesis of the project, the great comics they couldn’t get on camera, and,
finally, the psychotic genius of the late Michael O’Donoghue.

Where was Bill Cosby’s version of this joke? Penn: Bill Cosby we actually got fairly close to, and
talked to a good friend of his – same with Woody Allen and a few others that are
conspicuous in their absence.
But one of the basic ideas of this movie was not to seduce. Studios are desperate;
studios have to engage talent.
We were calling friends, so when I called somebody, and they said,
“Let me think about it”, I never called them again. If you call a friend to have
coffee, and he says, “I don’t know if [I want to]”, you don’t call him
again. This is a
friendship thing.
Studios are really desperate to do this. Of course, everything is
business. It’s show
business… but, most important, it was the two of us fucking around. That was more important, so
we didn’t push anybody.
Bill Cosby might’ve said “yes” if I called him a few more times, but
we don’t know. And
this is really important: we don’t know any of the reasons that anyone said,
“No”, because we didn’t want to know them. When you ask someone out to dinner,
and they say “No”, it’s very rude to push for a reason. So, some of them, I think,
were sincerely busy.
(Laughs.) And some of them probably
didn’t want to do it.
But we don’t know the difference, and they’re still friends of
ours. And I think
that’s a terrific thing. Did you ask Jerry Seinfeld to take part?
Paul: I did ask Seinfeld, actually, and he laughed so hard when I told him what we
were doing. But it was
right about the time when Comedian was released, and he said, “You know, it sounds like
it might be overlapping.
I don’t feel right about doing something that sounds so similar to
what I did.” Of
course, it ended up being not similar at all, except in the behind-the-scenes of
comedy aspect to it, but he was really supportive. In fact, he turned me on to some other people, and
gave me [other comedians’ contact info]. I don’t know if he’s seen it yet – I don’t think he
has – but that’s why he didn’t do it.
Another thing that’s interesting is
that it’s a bad idea on paper.
(Laughs.) I mean, if somebody had come
to me with this, I’d go, “Oh, I don’t know about that.” It’s really astonishing the
leap of faith people took in doing this, because it’s just a bad idea. And they would say, “I don’t
really get it. How
exactly are you going to put this together?” And we’d go, “We have no idea.”
Penn:
The heartbreakers on this, and there are some heartbreakers on this –
Buddy Hackett. I
called Buddy Hackett.
I talked to him for about – and the temptation to exaggerate is
tremendous – probably fifteen minutes. He told me the joke; he told me two or three
version of the jokes; he told me other jokes. He got it, and understood it, and then said, “I’m
just too fucking old.
I’m not doing anything else.” I had the exact same story, the exact same day, with
Rodney Dangerfield. I
hung up on Buddy Hackett, picked up Rodney Dangerfield, and he gave me the same
thing. Now, if I were
the kind of Michael Moore scumbag who tapes his calls, I bet they would’ve given
me permission to use that.
The other one is Johnny Carson, who
was a very big supporter of this movie. I had a date to show him this movie after it was
done and at Sundance.
And Johnny… this is his favorite joke, he loved the idea, he was
behind it and wanted to see it.
But Johnny was retired, and respect dictates that you don’t go, “No,
no, you like the idea!
Come on, Johnny!”
I mean, we wanted him so
badly in this movie.
So, you know, Buddy Hackett, Rodney Dangerfield and Johnny Carson
should have been in it, wanted to be in it, but it was made too late. That’s the only
problem. But, you
know, all things said, it would’ve changed the feeling of the movie to have that
much sadness focused on it.
It’s bad enough that Jay Marshall, who had been a mentor of Teller’s
and mine for thirty-five years, died three weeks ago. The first person to tell the
joke in the movie died a while ago. And someone said, “Are you going to put a little
dedication in?” And I
said, “What could be a bigger dedication than him being the first one in the
movie to tell it?” Paul:
Especially after how many years in show
business? Penn: Seventy-six. (Laughs.)
You know, there’s 140 hours that were cut out of this movie, and Jay
Marshall… talks about how he was, like, eight in vaudeville, and he heard this
joke. We really have
it traced back forever. Paul: He heard it from a guy who was an old guy at the
time, who said that he heard it when he was a kid in vaudeville, which was back
in the middle of the nineteenth century. Of course, the other great thing is the fact that
someone was telling [“The Aristocrats”] to an eight year old. (Laughs.)
In terms of its provenance, is that the earliest you can
go? Paul:
That’s the earliest that we can, with any reasonable certainty, put
it back. Penn: Jay is the earliest that we’ve gotten it. You know, everybody will say
that it’s been around forever, and the question is, “What’s the definition of
‘forever’ in comedy terms?”
Is that sixty years, or is that 600 years? There’s no way of
knowing. The times
they’ve tried to trace back jokes – Steve Allen did a rather famous book about
that – it’s been a miserable failure.
Because it’s an oral tradition. Paul: Exactly. And that’s the other interesting thing about
it. This joke – and
this movie, I guess, is part and parcel of it – really is sort of like the
bastard stepchild of the great American oral storytelling tradition. I mean, these jokes have been
around forever, and a lot of old timers talk about how, “Oh, that joke that
somebody did about Madonna, I heard it about The McGuire Sisters.” Chaucer’s filled with filthy
jokes, and Shakespeare’s full of dick jokes, and you can see the origins of some
of the jokes that we’ve heard at parties over the last two weeks. So, it’s also another
interesting thing, to throw light on
that. Penn:
Not only an oral tradition, but also an oral tradition that’s not
taken seriously. It’s
harder to do scholarship on the early days of Juggs Magazine than it is on National Geographic. Even though they use some of
the same pictures. (Laughter.)
Are there any pre-Lenny Bruce comics – I’m thinking of guys
like Jack Benny – that you would’ve loved to have heard their version of the
joke? Penn:
I went through about… fifteen hours of the raw Lenny Bruce stuff, and
there was a bit that he did about a couple of cocksuckers going on stage. That’s an interesting
act. There is that
punch line, which is a version, in the very broad sense, of “The
Aristocrats.” We
could’ve edited it and used some Lenny Bruce, and we felt, after listening to it
and talking about it, that it would’ve been a little bit disingenuous, because
we would’ve been giving the impression that Lenny Bruce was really telling this
joke. But, certainly,
Lenny told it.
Certainly Richard Pryor told
it. Paul: Paul Krasner, who wrote with Lenny Bruce and was a
friend of his, he said that he heard Lenny tell it to musicians. You know, musicians love this
joke, too, as well as
comedians. Penn: The person who may be the biggest fan of this joke
is a guy named Mike Jones, who is the best bebop piano player in the world
today, you know, since Oscar Peterson had a stroke. He’s a phenomenal piano
player, and just so deeply steeped in the bebop tradition. And every time Jonesy sees
this movie, and he’s seen it thirty times now – he’s a friend of mine – I just
have this feeling that he understands it better than we do. The movie is so rooted in
bebop. That’s where
the movie started…, with me talking to Provenza about improvisation and bebop,
and Coltrane and Miles Davis.
That’s where it starts.
Paul: In that light, I can tell you that one of my
fantasies is to hear [the joke] done by Lord Buckley. (Penn Gasps.) That would be bebop. It would be literally
bebop. Penn:
Well, Lord Buckley and Lenny Bruce were very influenced by
bebop. And, then,
you’ve got George Carlin, who comes out of bebop, but then changes it to the
rock-and-roll sensibility.
Carlin’s version of the joke has got so much detail. It sounds like it could’ve
been epic, but he just stops, and I was just like, “He could’ve done that for
another hour.” Penn:
Everybody could’ve done that for another hour. There’s a lot of time spent
on how talented the people in this movie are; they certainly are among the
most talented people in the world, and certainly in comedy in the
United States.
But then you’ve got to go what Provenza did: the raw footage is just
beautiful, but the raw footage… you would need to be a special kind of person to
understand how great it is.
The thing that Provenza did that really surprised me is that… Provenza found a way through
editing and through his sensibility to explain what he personally loves about
comedy. And you’ve got
this movie that is my two favorite things in art: it’s a collaboration and it’s absolutely a single
man’s vision. Those
are the two things you want most.
I remember once when I was dating a geologist in the
seventies. Apocalypse Now came out, and
this woman said to me, “I don’t want to see one man’s ego trip.” And I said, “I don’t ever
want to see anything else.”
So, the hard part of this movie is taking this huge collaboration of
all these brilliant men and women, and then filtering it through one person’s
sensibilities so you don’t get a committee. Committees just make everything beige; that’s the only thing
they’ll ever agree on.
And Provenz, man, I think when you see this movie, you come out
knowing a lot more about comedy and a lot more about Paul
Provenza. Paul: Because I also have fucked most of my family. (Laughter.)
Did the film take many different forms in the editing
room? Paul:
First of all, it was over a year in editing. (Paul’s trying to answer the question
while fiddling with his cell phone, which issues what sounds vaguely like a Carmen ring
tone.) I’m
trying to figure out how to turn this off. (Penn
reaches for the phone to do it for him.) Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop! It’s important. It’s the clinic; they’ve
got your results. (Penn laughs, and, shortly
thereafter, the cell
phone is silenced.)
So, I sat with this movie for months and months, and all I
did was watch the footage over and over again. I transcribed all of it myself, so I got to know it
really intimately well, to the point where Emery (Emery), who I edited it with,
said I was like Rain Man with the footage. What happened was that ideas started to emerge, and
I would get a sense of certain things that were being captured. I had an idea of what those
things were, so I just built these huge arcs that swam around those
ideas. In this
particular case, it really didn’t take different shapes because the ideas were
so clear, and they were a lot of the same ideas that Penn and I talked about on
the first day we thought about this at The Peppermill in
Las
Vegas. It took a
lot of different twists and turns, but it was basically about those ideas every
step of the way.
Having said that, if somebody really wanted to do it, you could go
back in and make about 1,000 movies, all of which are cogent, all of which have
ideas in them, and all of which are absolutely hilarious. There are definitely an
infinite variety of movies that can be made from it, but we wanted to make the
one that was about the ideas that meant the most to us, which is about
creativity, the individuality of art, freedom… all those things were the things
we were interested in and love about
comedy. Penn:
There’s Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton. Charlie Chaplin did trial and
error; he just kept doing stuff until it seemed to be okay to him. Buster Keaton had an idea in
his head, and just presented it.
And I pushed really hard in this movie for Provenza to do
that. You could take
this footage, and keep putting it in front of focus groups, and get yourself a
movie that would get this many laughs, but it wouldn’t be as satisfying. And it was the satisfying
part… you know, we knew we had funny from the moment we turned the camera on
Bobby Slayton, who was the first, [but] it was making sure that it had a richness as well as that.
Provenza just glazed over this like
it was no real big deal, but I think you should really make note of it: he transcribed 140 hours
himself, typed it out.
And then, although I didn’t understand it at the time, he sat for a
few months like fucking Mozart and made the movie in his head, and found a way
to tell that story.
There was a lot of playing around, but this is not a trial and error
movie. We live in a
time when people say, “This is what plays: get Tom Cruise, get big monsters, do this, do that…
and you’ll be able to get stuff that’s okay.” And you do get stuff that’s okay, but you’re never going to get better
until you open up your heart.
You can’t do it with your
head. Paul: Just to add to that, since Penn’s sucking my cock
right now (Penn laughs), I
feel like I owe him a blow job in return. One of the really profound things that Penn did in
that process was to really encourage me to take chances, and to encourage me to
listen to an inner voice, and to not listen to other people’s opinions. So, all the choices that were
made in terms of material, and there is some material that’s in the film where
those particular individuals did stuff that may have been funnier, but [the
material we included] speaks more to an idea or something like that. Penn was really
adamant about making sure that my voice was clear, and I can’t imagine any other
time in show business where the guy who financed the movie is telling the guy
who’s putting it together, “Please make it more specific to what you like, and
less what other people like.”
(Laughs.) That’s a pretty astonishing
thing to happen, and I’m spoiled for life now.
It sounds like you guys have mountains of material. Does that mean we’re going to
get a huge DVD out of this? Paul:
If enough people buy tickets, yeah. If enough people go to see the movie, we hope to do
a project that’s rather elaborate. But it’s a big
job. Penn: But remember... we don’t want to. I really was not lying when I
said that the raw footage was good, but more of what you like about this movie
is Paul Provenza than you might think at first blush. We’ve talked about something
down the line – I mean, five, six or seven years – of having The Aristocrats Project, which
is Provenza doing in DVD format, which is maybe five or six hourse, what he did
in the movie format, which is ninety minutes. That would be wonderful to see something like that
down the line. In the
meantime, I think the DVD will have some extra footage. The footage that’s there,
what Carlin called a snapshot of comedy at the turn of the century… it’s still
great, but you’re going to like it much more if Provenza holds you by the hand
while you’re watching it. Is there anything that was too outrageous that you had to
censor? Paul:
We have “nigger cunts”! What more do you want!?!? (Wild laughter from everyone
in the room.) Boy, you
people are never satisfied!
I was thinking that if you could every single comic telling
this joke it would be the filthiest version of the Shoah
Foundation… Penn:
“Sho-ho-hoah!” Paul: That’s what I said we’d call the nine hour
cut: Sho-Ho-Hoah. (Laughter.)
Billy the Mime, was it? Paul: Billy the Mime. Get that name
right! I just made a mental note, because we’ve had discussion after
discussion [in the movie], and all of a sudden he’s just acting it out there on
the boardwalk with bright sunlight, and I was horrified. I want you to know, and this
is true, I went home and threw up. [Note:
Beaks did not ask this question.
For the record, he went home and changed his badly soiled boxer
shorts.] Penn:
(Cackling)
That’s a pull quote!
That’s my review: “I laughed so hard, I vomited”. But I wanted to ask: 1) where did you find him,
and 2) how did you actually know where to put that? Paul: First of all, Billy the Mime is one of the greatest
mime artists of our generation.
He’s brilliant. Penn: If there’s one definition of “damming with faint
praise”, he just gave it to
you. Paul: Billy is a mime artist who pushes the boundaries of
the art of mime.
Billy’s best known pieces are “Dreams of a Young Crippled Boy”, “The
Short Tragic Life of John Kennedy,
Jr.” Penn:
He’s actually doing a one-man show in Vegas. Sacred Fools. And Billy the Mime has many
incarnations of things he’s done in other fields, and so on, but he’s chosen to
be called “Billy the Mime”.
Paul: There’s a new piece he’s got called “A Day Called
9/11”. And as far as
the placement, it was right in front of my house. I got up late that
day. Has
anyone ever related to you what Michael O’Donoghue’s version of “The
Aristocrats” is like? Penn:
Chevy
Chase talked to
me a little bit about it on the phone. T-Shaun [Shannon] talks about it,
right? Paul:
Martin Mull told great Michael O’Donoghue stories about how [Michael]
had a pet collie that died, so he had the collie skinned and made a rug out of
his old collie. (Shocked laughter.) And once in a while on a
Sunday, he would say, “I’ll meet you for coffee somewhere”, and he would meet
Martin Mull dragging on a leash this [collie
rug]. Penn: (Laughing hysterically) Did you ever meet
Michael? Paul: I do not believe I met Michael. I may have met him a million
years ago – I believe it was him, in retrospect, with [Al] Franken and [Tom]
Davis.
Penn: I went out to dinner with him a couple of times, and
Michael O’Donoghue… you know, the problem is you want to use superlatives all
the time. You want to
use superlatives for Gilbert and for Carlin and for Michael O’Donoghue. But I remember we sat down to
dinner, and he said, “Penn, surely God could’ve thought of a better gift to give us than
life”. (Huge
laugh.) Paul: He also said one of the greatest things I’ve ever
heard said about comedy.
He said, “Laughter is a response to comedy; it is not the only response.” I love that. I think that says everything
you need to know. I
don’t know when comedy ended up being an art form whose edges are defined by the
audience reaction. I
don’t understand that.
And Michael O’Donoghue with that quote just says, “You know
what? It doesn’t
matter.”
Penn: Michael O’Donoghue, also, his biggest insult he
could give to anybody was, “Oh, he can take it, but he can’t dish it
out.” (Everyone
laughs.) Who was that about, do you know? Penn: Anybody that he hated, which I think
was… Paul: Everybody. (Laughs.) He had been on my radar when I was starting out…
because of National Lampoon
and things like that.
But the thing that really put it over the top for me was when I found
out he wrote the line on Saturday
Night Live during the Karen Ann Quinlan story. It was a birthday party for
Karen Ann Quinlan, and her boyfriend came and brought moss for her north
side. Penn: (Laughing his ass off) When I was eighteen, I hitchhiked to
New
York City, and I wanted to see Lemmings.
I didn’t know anything; I had never been out of a small
town. And I called The
National Lampoon, through directory assistance, to ask them about how you get
tickets to see Lemmings.
And the phone was answered by
O’Donoghue. Paul: No!
Penn: And I started crying. I couldn’t believe that someone whose name I had
seen [in print] was actually on the phone with me. Now, I was from a small town; I had never been to
a live show of any kind, you know? And he’s from the city; I’m not. It was amazing. I remember going, “Um, I… I…
I… want to see… National Lampoon’s
Lemmings.” And
he went, “What the fuck are you calling here for, it’s a
magazine!?!?” What I wouldn’t give
to have O’Donoghue holding forth viciously in The Aristocrats. Despite the absence of his scabrous wit, Provenza
and Jillette have still made one hell of a funny film, one that you’ll be able
to see starting this Friday, July 29th, in
New York
City and Los
Angeles.
It goes wider on August 12th. Be sure to take your
children. From behind.
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