|Tom Green: Heir to the Marx Brothers
||[Mar. 9th, 2005|07:10 pm]
Over the past few weeks, Laura and I have taken in the Auto-Show (yes, I was pretty shocked, too; there isn't much I won't too for my sweetie) and taken in a few videos.
Among the latter, were Tom Green's Freddy Got Fingered and the Marx Brother's "classic", Duck Soup. (We're nothing if not ecclectic.)
For those who haven't seen it, Freddy is the story (more or less) of a man-child who wants to be a cartoonist and whose parents want him to move out and stand on his own two feet. There is little in the way of plot, none that would make sense in the real world. Almost all of the comedy arises from Green himself. If you don't think sucking milk from a lactating cow is funny, perhaps watching a wheel-chair-bound, nymphomaniac who enjoys having her shins battered with a bamboo pole will do the trick. And if neither works, enjoy the recurring theme of the 10-year-old boy who is far more than a little accident-prone.
And for those who haven't seen it, A Night at the Opera is almost just as plotless. Groucho Marx is a conniving confidence artist whose specialty is feecing rich but naive widows. There is a romance of sorts that takes up far too much of the picture's running time, a couple of musical numbers that do the same - and one scene (the hotel room, 'natch) that had both Laura and I in stitches, along with 3 or 4 others that did make us laugh.
Both movies, despite roughly 70 years between them, share a few things in common. Neither are particularly good films; both strain the viewers credulity and patience; and both have contain scenes that both shock and delight (despite oneself).
One more commonality occurs to me.
Both the Marx Brothers and Tom Green are more interested in telling jokes than they are in telling stories. When the jokes work, both the Brothers and Green hit that special spot inside all of us that both accepts that something happened, yet refuses to believe it could have happened, thus releasing violent laughter, after despite our better instincts.
Both comedians delight in the pure anarchy of comedy, without much regard for the norms of story-telling, of morality or even of common sense.
The Marx Brothers were not as crude as Tom Green, but they were not nearly so far away as one would think, if one's judgement is based only on swear-words and childish gross-out humour. One of the Opera's better moments came after Harpo had dropped a sandbag on the head of the film's villain, Trentino. Harpo then used smelling salts to bring Trentino to his senses - only so he could drop another sandbag on the poor bastard's noggin.
That's not subtle, folks, but it is funny.
2005-03-10 05:24 pm (UTC)
gOODNess Gracious Mrs Smith's....
A very lucky lady, paints her toenails rainbow colours and her hair is green...
The above had as much to do with your post as the comparison between Tom Green and the Marx Brothers. I can't say you've managed to convince *me*, dear Sir, that the two are as akin as you say they are. Having seen more than one Tom Green epic, I can safely say that his sort of humor can only be compared to the Marx Brothers' in the sense that they both are silly violent humor (i.e. sand bag + accident prone kid) ...but at no point did the Marx Brothers start whacking off an elephant and shooting it's load at the zoo keeper.
Daddy would you like some sausage??
Feeling a bit better today sweetheart? I'll meet you at your place tomorrow evening if all goes to plan, I'm off to the reference library today to get some projects done..
-----> insert mushy love-stuff here <-----
2005-03-11 12:18 am (UTC)
Re: gOODNess Gracious Mrs Smith's....
Sausage? Now I'm just baffled.
But maybe that's because I'm feeling worse, rather than better. (And how is your virus, sweet wondergirl?)
I don't have the courage to re-read my post yet, but I will cop to the idea I didn't write it very well. I am still intrigued by the similarities between Green and Groucho though - and may at some point in the future re-state my case.
Meanwhile, my eyes hurt and I'm going to bed.
------>Insert my own mushy love-stuff here <-----------
SO BITTER! theres a mechanical error with the spool in my pretty 3-in-1 printer. So I'm fucked for school. Hardcore.
Anyway, see you tomorrow! I have something for you - hopefully you'll be feeling much better?
Oh!! and I was thinking of getting some cookie dough and doing some baking for your party on Saturday...
If so I'll steal from your change jar and do that before you get home..
2005-03-11 12:15 pm (UTC)
Re: *mumbles incoherently*
You know, darlin', you could also make cookie dough.
Ahem. I'll try to remember to leave a cook-book out for you.
Meanwhile, I'm actually feeling worse, not better. At this point, coughing really hurts. I've been going to bed earlier and earlier - last night, about 9:20. Maybe you should call me at work before you finalize your plans?
Much love nevertheless,
Dreadfully sorry to hear that you are feeling under-the-weather. For selfish reasons as well as sincere sympathy for you, having just bounced back up from my illness...I really, really, REALLY hope you didn't get whatever the fuck it was that I had...
You should get in the habbit of taking echinacea...
Not that I personally take it, but I know people that swear by it...
And yes, I suppose I could actually *make* cookie dough, so do leave a cook book out or tell me where it is located if you've forgotten at this point
XO, have a lovely day :) Can't wait to see you...
oh! and while you're at work, maybe you can figure out why my webmail.web.ca account is a piece of shit. It says I'll have X amount of new emails in my inbox, and the actual page will show up as no new ones..just hte same old 15 or so there. And it takes for fucking ever to receive things sent to or from there...
Very sketchy indeed..So if you could see if theres anything to be done about that, that'd be excellent.
2005-03-11 05:16 pm (UTC)
Re: Awww, muffin!!
Cookbooks are to the right of the fridge, over the counter (naturally, I forgot to pull one out for you).
If you're going to get ingredients, get butter, not margerine. Flour is in island cupboard, as is (I think - maybe I'm running low) sugar. Mixing bowls are above the stove, but the biggest is over the sink, top-shelf.
Meanwhile, check your mail - I think you'll be pleased by what's there.
I love you, darling - but I still think you should call me; I'm pretty damned sick.