Andy Kaufman was one of the most original comedians of all time, and he is the subject of a new documentary, Thank You Very Much, which will be shown on Hot 8 on March 30 at 9:15 p.m. (and on Hot VOD and Next TV) and on Yes Docu on March 30 at 10 p.m. (and on Yes VOD and Sting+).
Kaufman had a meteoric rise, creating comedy that was unlike anything ever seen before (or since), was hailed as a genius, and died tragically young, at the age of 35 in 1984.
Whether you’ve been a fan of his since his breakout appearance on the first episode of Saturday Night Live or whether you are just hearing about him now, it’s worth watching this in-depth look into his life, which is named after his most famous catchphrase. His short life even inspired “Man on the Moon,” a song by REM, and a biopic with Jim Carrey of the same title.
Kaufman, who was born to a Jewish family in Great Neck, Long Island, was a fixture at the comedy clubs in the early 1970s, when he was chosen to perform on the Saturday Night Live opener.
He stood awkwardly next to a phonograph playing the “Mighty Mouse” anthem until he lip synced to Mighty Mouse’s voice. Like most of his comedy, it doesn’t sound funny and like all of what he did, it didn’t involve any traditional jokes, but it brought the house down.
Soon, he was given a major role on the sitcom Taxi, where he played Latka Gravas, an immigrant mechanic based on the Foreign Man character he had developed in his act, who often sounded bewildered and said, “Thank you very much.” Kaufman’s devotion to bringing this character to life was phenomenal and he made up a whole language for him, frequently uttering the words, “Ibbi da,” which meant, “Of course.”
Carol Kane, who played Latka’s wife in the series and who unfortunately is not in the documentary, told me when I interviewed her last summer following the release of her movie, Between the Temples, that Kaufman would give her whole scenes written in the fictional language, and tell her what the words meant in English. “There were a few of Andy’s words that the writers were starting to know and repeat. There was ‘yaktibay,’ which was butt,” she recalled.
In his comedy act, he would alternate the sheepish immigrant with a supremely polished Elvis imitation, and the contrast between the two provided laughs.
AROUND THE time he starred in Taxi, he developed another character, a grubby, aggressive lounge singer named Tony Clifton, who he pretended to be. Kaufman was famous for his pranks, such as the time he chartered 24 buses and took the audience for his Carnegie Hall show out for milk and cookies after the show.
After leaving Taxi because he found appearing on a network series too constricting, he went through several phases in his work and eventually became known for adopting a male-chauvinist persona – which friends and colleagues insist was a form of performance art – and challenging women to wrestle him. Many people didn’t find any of this funny. After trouncing many women, he eventually fought a male wrestler and ended up in the hospital.
During the years he performed these wrestling challenges, he lost jobs but friends say he didn’t care. Said his collaborator Bob Zmuda about this period in his life, “Slowly, he realizes, if you can destroy your own life, you’re in control.”
Recalled his Taxi co-star, Marilu Henner: “He was the provocateur, and he was the sweet boy. Nobody talks about the yin-yang of that, the two forces constantly going on all the time.”
The documentary delves into his personal life, showing how he became cynical and skeptical about the world after his parents misguidedly refused to tell him when his beloved grandfather died, and let him believe that the grandfather had severed contact with him and was traveling the world.
He left home at 16, inspired by Jack Kerouac’s novel On the Road, and lived in the East Village drug culture in New York City. His father recalls how Kaufman urged him to read On the Road and how it led him to understand the roots of his troubled son’s rebellion.
Because of his outrageousness and penchant for pranks, many people did not believe it when he was diagnosed with lung cancer, and some attended his funeral, not believing at first that he was really dead.
Said his girlfriend, Lynne Margulies, who was with him until the end, “He told me, ‘I want my entire life to be seen as one long, confusing, beautiful performance.’”
Medical School – Hot VOD and Next TV
Another documentary, Udi Kalinski and Revital Oren’s Medical School, proves once again that reality is more dramatic than anything screenwriters can devise. The film, which is available on Hot VOD and Next TV, follows three medical students as they begin the phase in their training where they work in a hospital. Set mainly in a hospital in Safed and other medical facilities in the North, it shows the challenges these students face in treating patients of all ages.
The sections filmed in the neonatal intensive care ward are especially compelling. The final section is set after the war broke out, and shows one of the students on reserve duty, treating wounded soldiers. While at times the overworked medical staff in hospitals can seem callous toward their patients, this film shows how these students struggle to cope with the suffering they see.
The Residence – Netflix
Uzo Aduba is such a good actress that she has managed to avoid typecasting after her breakout role as Suzanne “Crazy Eyes” Warren in Orange is the New Black, and she’s the best thing about the new Netflix series The Residence (See review below).
In this series, which is set in the White House, Aduba plays Cordelia Cupp, a brilliant detective who is brought in as a consultant when a staff member is found dead in the president’s living quarters. Cordelia is utterly abrupt and a birding enthusiast, very much in the mode of such quirky female lawyers/sleuths that have portrayed recently in the series, Elsbeth and Extraordinary Attorney Woo.
It’s similar in tone to Only Murders in the Building, so if you can roll with black comedy combined with a murder investigation, you will probably enjoy it. Aduba is one of those actors who simply commands the screen, no matter what anyone else around her is doing or saying.