I have always been a fan of live theater, although I rarely have had the funds to be able to attend as many such events as I’d like. In my early New York days when my bank account was in only slightly better shape than it is now, having the same last name as the most established ticket broker on Shubert Alley often allowed me the chance to get prime seats at a significant discount. I’d regularly go to plays and one-person performances–comedies my preference–as long as I was able to keep thar ruse going. No such option exists today, but the desire still burns within me. Especially when it’s inflamed by a strong recommend by someone whose taste I find to be especially exquisite.
So that’s what got me out for a rare night of self-indulgence to see the final performance of the most recent staging of I’M NOT A COMEDIAN…I’M LENNY BRUCE, all the more special because it happened to fall on the 100th anniversary of Bruce’s birth. Bruce, of course, hasn’t had a birthday in almost 60 years, having died of a drug overdose at the tragic age of 40 in the summer of 1966. You could be familiar with the name if you were a fan of THE MARVELOUS MRS. MAISEL, where he’s a prominent influence on the career (and, spoiler alert, the libido) of the title character, or perhaps you’ve caught Dustin Hoffman’s portrayal in the acclaimed 1974 movie directed by Bob Fosse. And if you’re a lover of comedy, at some point you’ve hopefully heard some of his surviving routines, most originally recorded on reel-to-reel tape machines snuck into underground clubs.
Bruce was a champion of free speech and rigorous honesty that has influenced the careers of a lot of later day performers who have chosen a similar route. From Joan Rivers , George Carlin and Eddie Murphy to Dave Chappelle, Bill Burr, Bill Maher, Chelsea Handler and Sarah Silverman. Authentic, soul-bearing dialogue with an engaged live audience then and now has been a path to create a connection with audiences that mere joke riffs cannot possibly produce. Add the name Ronnie Marmo to that impressive lot.
Marmo’s a hard-working Italian-American actor who’s done his time on TV soap operas and procedurals–successful enough to have ownership of a North Hollywood theatre where he frequently stars in and directs passion projects. As he told the crowd I was a part of, about two decades ago he developed a friendship with a veteran comedian while working a 12-step program–someone who once trotted out his sobriety chip and offered testimony in the hopes of currying my team’s favor while auditioning to host a local kids’ show. (He didn’t get that gig, BTW). But said comedian did tell him of his uncanny resemblance to the real Lenny Bruce–a version that even the talented Hoffman did not bring to the screen and had at that time all but faded into obscurity. Marmo has immersed himself in that world ever since–even getting the rights and the blessings of Bruce’s surviving daughter Kitty in the process.
He was also resourceful enough to bring along the acclaimed Joe Mantegna as his director. You likely know him from his own ubiquitous television work; I first saw him winning a Tony on Broadway as Richard Roma in the Pulitzer Prize-winning David Mamet play GLENGARRY GLEN ROSS. It was Mantegna who suggested the spartan staging of this emotional tour-de-force–the stage is barren except for a couple of chairs and the toilet that Bruce was found dead on–naked, allegedly with a heroin needle in a his arm. That’s both the opening and closing scene of Marmo’s tribute. In other words, a much more unvarnished and captivating portrayal than what even Hoffman, let alone MAISEL’s Luke Kirby, brought to their interpretations.
In between, Marmo channels Bruce like a medium at a seance, evoking the pain he endured in his short, troubled life while creating nervous and yes, empathetic laughter from the packed house. As COUNTERPUNCH’s Bruce Levine recently wrote in his salute to Bruce’s centennial:
On stage, Bruce was fearless. He worked as an MC at strip clubs, and following one performer, he himself came on stage completely naked and said, “Let’s give the little girl a big hand.” In Bruce’s time, it was still common for some Christians to accuse Jews of killing Jesus, and this would put most Jews on the defensive—but not Lenny. In his act, Lenny would “fess up” that not only did the Jews kill Jesus but that it was his Uncle Morty who did it. In one variation of this bit, he said that what in fact Jews really had covered up was that his Uncle Morty had killed Jesus with an electric chair, but that Jews thought that Christian women wouldn’t be as attractive wearing necklaces with Jesus in an electric chair dangling over their chests, so Jews made up the crucifixion story.
However, as Bruce became more famous for his risk-taking humor that fearlessly mocked authorities, his luck eventually ran out. He was arrested multiple times for obscenity during his stand-up act as well as for drug possession. Bruce believed that authorities went after him mostly because he made fun of organized religion(.)
In light of recent events and the political chasm of current times, it is fascinating to ponder how Bruce would have been received in a world where podcasting and technology would have made him far more ubiquitous than his occasional television appearances and gigs at venues like Carnegie Hall–or even four records–allowed him to be in his time. Marmo hints at those possibilities, and also reveals that Kitty’s unflailing devotion resulted in the posthumous pardon of Lenny’s New York obsecenity convictions from then-Governor George Pataki on Christmas Eve Eve 2003–a little-known fact that drew as much relieved applause as the gut-wrenching depictions of the unfairness and tragedies that defined his Roman candle of a life.
Marmo’s taking his show back on the road, now approaching 500 performances, to venues like Vancouver and will eventually be returning to several venues in Southern California next year similar to the tidy one he maintains stewardship of. He’s also expecting a baby, something his adorable and VERY pregnant wife shared with us while they cut up an extremely impressive and delicious birthday cake made in Lenny’s honor for those in attendance on this special night. So hell ya I’m encouraging y’all to follow him on the ‘Gram and catch him when and where you can. He’s arguably got more need these days than me.
I’ll somehow figure out a way to better cope with a world filled with GLENGARRY references and oppressive regimes that marks my reality that at least Marmo offered me a 90-minute respite from. Thanks to Bruce and his doppelganger, I’ve been reminded of a few words I can (for now) at least safely use to let off steam.
Until next time…