Aristocrats is fucking filthy. It's as foul, crusty and rank
as the crotch of a overused middle-aged whore in the desert. It's
just a God damn nasty movie. And everything this nasty--the Tavern
Harelip singing karaoke and those DVDs of retards humping vegetables--has
movie is a documentary, but it's not a narrative. It doesn't tell
a story, just a joke. Actually, dozens of comics tell the same
joke, called The Aristocrats. The gag is really a framework: a
premise and a punchline. The comic fills in the middle. It goes
something like this:
man walks into a talent agency with his family and says, "I have
an act I'd like you to see." The agent says, "What sort of act?"
"A family act. It's my wife, me, our two children and our dog."
comic describes the family's act which invariably includes many
of the following: dog-fucking, motherfucking, dadfucking, child-on-child
anal intercourse, ass-licking, vomiting, shitting on a stage,
pissing on a stage, shitting on other people you hate, shitting
on people you like, shitting on the audience regardless of your
opinion of them, pissing on yourself, dirty sanchezes, a rusty
trombone, nipple clamps, electroshock, ass reaming with corn,
shitting into an open mouth, vomiting up shit, the French Monkey,
pounding a cock until it's flat, fucking an eyesocket, breaking
bones, sadistic spanking, Detroit Lassoes, bleeding, used tampons
sticking to walls, deep tissue bruises, slicing open nutsacks,
splintering thin glass tubes in urethras, come splattering every
body part and orifice, splooge on office furniture, wallowing
in shit, dancing in diarrhea, pissing into someone's ear until
his brain turns yellow and urine dribbles out his mouth, playing
a vagina's lips like vibrating paper in a breeze, squeezing kneecaps
from the sides until they split, dog-fucking but pulling out before
coming, so you can force a child to eat the come, washing open
sores with acetone, dressing as Hitler, undressing as Eva Braun,
setting yourself on fire, playing for the Kansas City Royals,
snaking soapy pubic hair out of a drain with your dick, watersports,
extreme watersports. And then some really filthy shit, too.
agent, somewhat stunned says, "That's certainly interesting. Tell
me, what do you call your act?"
a flourish, the man replies, "The Aristocrats!"
few people outside of the green rooms at comedy clubs have ever
heard the joke. That's because it's a Catskills-style setup-middle-punchline
joke that today's comedians don't really tell much. It's more
like something that Milton Berle might tell, and probably did
while whipping out his massive dick. It's a joke that comics tell
each other while waiting to go on, trying to be as vulgar and
disgusting as possible with the middle section.
intent is, well, I don't fucking know. I've got no clue why people
think being vulgar is so funny. I sure as fuck don't. I think
it's tacky as hell. Is it shock? Surprise? Or perhaps it tickles
every man's deep-seated desires to split open a human skull and
shit on a brain. I know that sort of crass comedy sickens me.
The Aristocrats is a celebration of the joke, hearing how
each comic heard it and how each retells it. Some are competitive,
like Bob Saget, and have to tell the absolutely most disgusting
version they can imagine. Others, like the staff of The Onion
are pompous blowhards who take the opportunity not to amuse but
to act like some sort of comic authorities who do the absolute
least funny thing you can do with a a joke, and that is break
it down and discuss, with much chin-stroking, what makes it funny.
Just telling the fucking joke, assholes, and make it funny. Holy
shit, I really like The Onion but the writers are dickweeds
the fault of the filmmakers Penn Jillette and Paul Provenza, though,
for using a grab bag of comics and non-comics to talk about the
joke. Some aren't funny, some are deadly funny, and some don't
even want to tell the joke. Billy Connolly looks really drunk,
the Smothers Brothers reminded me that they've always been funny.
I remembered what a pretentious turd Penn Jillette is and how
fucking tired his and Art Teller's gimmick is. Gilbert Gottfried
reminded me that he can be funny in small doses, and Jon Stewart
looks embarrassed by it all.
movie is all shot with what appears to be a Fisher-Price My First
Video Camera. The sound and framing are as low budget and amateurish
as Yemeni porn. Which is all right because this is just talking
heads. But then Jillette and Provenza hired four-year olds to
edit it as artlessly and spastically as possible. The funny part
of the joke is in how extended and vulgar the teller can be. The
movie should feature uncensored tellings, but the movie has more
cuts that a teen goth girl's forearm. They're excessive and distracting,
like a monkey aping MTV. Not a single comic gets to tell The Aristocrats
from beginning to end without some sort of disruption, and that
suggests to me that Jillette and Provenza don't have faith in
the joke themselves.
don't know if there is some more profound reason for this movie
than just to be funny. It's not really revealing anything about
comics except how fucking filthy they can be. And how funny some
can be. The movie is best when they are telling jokes, and most
unwatchable when they're waxing philosophic. But if the intent
was to be hilarious, I would have cut out half of the hacks in
here and found some fresher talent. Phyllis Diller is awesome
because she's so fucking old and still so willing to lay it out
for the gag. But Don Rickles isn't served well here, neither is
the self-absorbed Richard Jeni and the D-list comics like Todd
Glass and Taylor Negron. They just seem to be inthe movie because
they know someone. My point is that not everyone deserves equal
time. If Provenza and Jilette wanted to make a great movie, rather
than a decent flick featuring their cronies, they could have looked
a little harder for talent.
Fingers for The Aristocrats. It's dirty enough, just
not as funny or as selective as it could have been.
Filthy || Want to tell Filthy