Jerry Lewis is among the comedians reminiscing about the famous Catskills era in WHEN COMEDY WENT TO SCHOOL
WHEN COMEDY WENT TO SCHOOL (Mevlut Akkaya & Ron Frank, 2013)
IFC Center, 323 Sixth Ave. at West Third St., 212-924-7771
JCC in Manhattan, 334 Amsterdam Ave. at West 76th St., 646-505-5708
July 31 – August 6
www.whencomedywenttoschool.com
In the new documentary When Comedy Went to School, Mickey Freeman describes what it’s like to “die” onstage, that terrible feeling of experiencing flop sweat while bombing in front of a live audience. Unfortunately, this film is dead on arrival, dripping wet. Made by Mevlut Akkaya (director and producer), Ron Frank (director, producer, and editor), and Lawrence Richards (writer and producer), the thankfully short film, which clocks in at a mere seventy-seven minutes, purports to tell the history of the Catskill comedians at such resorts as Kutsher’s, Grossinger’s, and the Concord. The filmmakers speak with such comic giants as Jerry Lewis, Sid Caesar, Mort Sahl, Dick Gregory, Jackie Mason, and Jerry Stiller, who describe what it was like in the Borscht Belt’s heyday of the 1950s and 1960s. There are also plenty of archival clips of those men as well as Rodney Dangerfield, Woody Allen, Henny Youngman, Milton Berle, Bob Hope, and Lenny Bruce (however, very few from actual Catskills performances), with additional commentary from Joe Franklin, Larry King, and Hugh Hefner. But timing is everything in comedy, something When Comedy Went to School is sorely lacking; the film drags and sputters as Akkaya, Frank, and Richards — onscreen host and narrator Robert Klein is the poor soul relegated to reading the increasingly dull script — try to delve into the social and historical aspects of the Catskills, from the comedians themselves to the people who owned the resorts and the families that went there year after year, but it’s slow moving, repetitive, and, worst of all, boring. Although some of the comedians have interesting anecdotes — Lewis steals the show with his insights on the relationship between performer and audience — most of it falls flat, reminiscent of the old vaudeville convention of bringing out the weakest act to clear the house after the stars are done. When Comedy Went to School runs July 31 to August 6 at the JCC in Manhattan and the IFC Center, with Akkaya, Frank, and Richards on hand to talk about the film at the 7:05 show on opening night at IFC; the trio will be back at IFC for the 7:05 screening on August 1, joined by Klein and Cory Kahaney.
Robert Bresson’s 1959 Pickpocket is a stylistic marvel, a brilliant examination of a deeply troubled man and his dark obsessions. Evoking Raskolnikov in Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, Martin LaSalle made his cinematic debut as Michel, a ne’er-do-well Parisian who lives in a decrepit apartment, refuses to visit his ailing mother (Dolly Scal), and decides to become a pickpocket. But it’s not necessarily the money he’s after; he hides the cash and watches that he steals in his room, which he is unable to lock from the outside. Instead, his petty thievery seems to give him some kind of psychosexual thrill, although his pleasure can seldom be seen in his staring, beady eyes. As the film opens, Michel is at the racetrack, dipping his fingers into a woman’s purse in an erotically charged moment that is captivating, instantly turning the viewer into voyeur. Of course, film audiences by nature are a kind of peeping Tom, but Bresson makes them complicit in Michel’s actions; although there is virtually nothing to like about the character, who is distant and aloof when not being outright nasty, even to his only friends, Jacques (Pierre Leymarie) and Jeanne (Marika Green), the audience can’t help but breathlessly root for him to succeed as he dangerously dips his hands into men’s pockets on the street and in the Metro. Soon he is being watched by a police inspector (Jean Pélégri), to whom he daringly gives a book about George Barrington, the famed “Prince of Pickpockets,” as well as a stranger (Kassagi) who wants him to join a small cadre of thieves, leading to a gorgeously choreographed scene of the men working in tandem as they pick a bunch of pockets. Through it all, however, Michel remains nonplussed, living a strange, private life, uncomfortable in his own skin. “You’re not in this world,” Jeanne tells him at one point.
Back in 2000, documentarian Nina Davenport made Always a Bridesmaid, in which she shared her views on being single and nearly thirty as she worked as a wedding videographer. A dozen years later, in the deeply personal First Comes Love, she turns the camera on her private life once again as she contemplates being single, childless, and forty-one — and takes matters into her own hands, deciding to have a baby on her own. With her best friend, Amy, by her side and her college friend, Eric, agreeing to be the sperm donor, Nina details every critical moment and more as she goes on this intimate journey, opening up her life for all to see. She discusses things with her family, particularly her adoring mother and her distant, hard-to-please father, as well as other relatives and friends, who give their opinions on whether they think it’s a good idea. Several of her acquaintances have also either recently had a baby on their own or are considering it as well, revealing the changing patterns of the American family in the twenty-first century, especially in New York City. Serving as writer, director, producer, editor, cinematographer, and principal subject, Davenport, in the style of one of her Harvard mentors, Ross McElwee (Sherman’s March), holds nothing back, which at times becomes overly self-indulgent and a bit much to take, but the combination of her eagerness and her fears, along with her willingness to show it all, ultimately makes First Comes Love the most human of stories. The film is running July 24-30 at the IFC Center, with Davenport participating in Q&As following the 7:35 screenings on July 24 and 25; it also premieres on HBO on July 29.