SHELLEY BERMAN sings REVENGE!

    One of the things that nobody mentioned in the obits on Shelley Berman, is…that he could sing. Here, on the Blog of Less Renown, that’s the basic requirement to get an entry. Let’s put it simply: Shelley Berman’s head belongs on the Mount Rushmore of Pioneering Stand-up. When nightclub comedy first broke through as an art form, and a vehicle for social comment, the four men leading the way were Lenny Bruce, Mort Sahl, Shelley Berman and Jonathan Winters.

    Oh, there were others around. There were cult characters like Lord Buckley and Brother Theodore. There was also soft-spoken Dick Gregory, who (thanks to Mort Sahl and Lenny Bruce breaking down the barriers) was able to talk about racial and political issues. He first worked at a Playboy Club in Chicago; Hefner already championing Mort and Lenny. 

When Time Magazine published an alarmist article on the emergence of “sick comedy,” Lenny was the main target, but Berman enraged them, too. In fact, Time was reduced to a "sick" description of Berman as having a face "that looks like a hastily sculpted meatball." Berman brought shivers for his gruesome dissections of modern life. While the Copa and similar clubs had some guy in a tux telling wife jokes, coffee houses were hosting a revolution not yet televised.  

    Berman's one-act plays included shining a light at malice in the suburbs; a man who learns that at a drunken party he threw the host’s cat through a plate glass window, and then the host’s mother. And he's not all that sorry, either. Funny? How about a phone call about a guy slowly bleeding to death? How about the literally dark humor of a man who finds himself in a hotel room with no windows or door? How about a man trying to get help for a lady dangling on the ledge of a department store window? How about a bit titled “Franz Kafka on the Telephone?”

    Of the four faces on comedy’s Mount Rushmore, the first to have a best selling album was…BERMAN. “Inside Shelley Berman” outsold the other guys by a hefty margin. Berman, a trained actor, was quickly hired for an episode of “The Twilight Zone,” and soon found himself starring in a Broadway musical called “A Family Affair.”

    What you’ll hear below, is a fairly horrible Bolero-novelty number called “Revenge.” In deference to Berman’s fame with phone monologues, there’s a messy bit of frantic phone tomfoolery towards the end. Maybe on stage, with some intense face-making, this thing was actually funny. Berman played “Uncle Alfie,” in a story of a wedding getting out of control and a young couple trying to deal with their crazy relatives. 

     Today, “A Family Affair” is a mere footnote, and it wouldn’t even toe that level of obscurity except that the music was supplied by John Kander. After this, Kander found a new lyricist and partner in Fred Ebb, and that team would go on to many hit shows including “Cabaret.” They wrote the inescapable anthem “New York, New York,” which is blasted over loudspeakers, in the Sinatra version, any time a New York sports team wins anything.

     The histrionic "Revenge" proves that Berman could’ve been perfect in a Broadway show with better songs, like “Bye Bye Birdie” (as the neurotic husband) or “Damn Yankees” (as the maliciously cheerful devil). Over the years, Shelley often appeared in “Straw Hat” productions of musicals, and one of his favorites, was the lead in “Fiddler on the Roof.” He played a Jewish peddler in an episode of “Rawhide,” so if you catch up with that one, it may give you an idea of his “Tevye” side.

    While he was indeed a neurotic and intense personality, and sometimes his own worst enemy, Berman managed to navigate through the years, and emerge almost as famous at the end of his career as he was at the beginning. Doffing his hairpiece, he played Larry David’s father on “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” It was an inspired choice. Despite the fact that he could be a “raw nerve,” Berman was a warm-hearted, gentle soul. His marriage was one of the longest in show business. Those who knew him, worked with him, or were fans of his…had every reason to love him. What a mensch. 


Shelley Berman sings...
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