by Apatow, Judd
Judd: You and Carl are as funny as ever, but do you find that other funny people you hang out with have stayed funny—or did some people lose their sense of humor? I mean, why is it that you guys are always current and hilarious and it didn’t fade at all, in any way?
Mel: Yeah, there’s a couple. I don’t know, even someone like Shecky Greene, one of the funniest guys that ever lived, went through a dark time. He had stage fright and suddenly he wasn’t funny for three or four years. I think he’s back doing everything well. Unless he’s dead, I don’t know. But people go through different periods and they’re assaulted by different memories or psychic problems or just physical maladies and they just don’t feel funny. And you know, but I have never—God bless me, I’m knocking wood. I feel good. I have salmon and tomato every day. I like cucumber soup. It’s cold but I like it. But I feel well and I have never given up my joie de vivre. I just love being alive and being in comedy, you know. But it happens. It happens to people.
Judd: Was it a big deal for you to make yourself a star of your movies?
Mel: It was. You know, I would have been a star ten years before I became a star. There was a great, great star, a great actor-comedian, Sid Caesar. And had I not run into Sid Caesar I probably would have gone from the Borscht Belt—“You’re looking at me, ladies and gentlemen, I met a girl who was so thin, this girl was so skinny you can’t believe it. I took her to a restaurant, the maître d’ said check your umbrella. That’s how skinny this girl was”—and, you know, those were the kind of jokes that I used to do. God bless. Anyway, I ran into Sid Caesar and I realized, you know, this guy’s truly a genius, because he’d be in a sketch with Imogene Coca and she would go on and on about a car that was wrecked because it backed into the drugstore and then it smashed into the candy store, and he—Sid thought it was somebody else and he was laughing. The greatest laugh you’d ever heard. He was just on the floor spitting with laughter, and then, little by little, he realized that Imogene—it was his car. It was the family car. And then he just got quiet and more quiet. And then without asking him, without rehearsing, without directing him, she kept on with the story and tears ran down his eyes. You know nobody came with glycerin. He just cried. And the audience went bananas. The greatest sketch ever. I was one of the writers.
Judd: But did that delay your feeling like you should be the star because you were watching the greatest?
Mel: No, I was seeing stardust and I was seeing magic. And I was seeing real comedy and that was enough.
Judd: All right, the next question is from Don Moore.
Don: Yes sir. I was just wondering, Mel, you’ve had such a long career in show business and a successful career, does it bother you on any level that your legacy will be that of funny guy, comedy writer?
Mel: Strangely enough, I’ve always been just a little irritated, perturbed, upset that I have never been recognized in this business by my peers—by my fellow directors—as a director of movies. I have never been saluted or, really, thought of. I’ve been thought of as, you know, a funny writer, a producer of funny stuff and a performer, a funny performer, but I’ve never been considered…Kubrick thought I was a good director. Hitchcock thought that I should have won the Academy Award for Young Frankenstein. Just for the backlighting, he said.
Judd: When comedies work, they feel effortless, so I think people get no sense that it took so much more work than making CGI dragons fly. They don’t really give people credit for that.
Mel: You’re right. They see what’s green screen and think, How did they do that? Look, the wings look so real.
Judd: I think that’s always been the case with the Oscars.
Mel: Well, Woody won for, you know—
Judd: Annie Hall.
Mel: Yeah, Annie Hall, but there was a lot of heart and warmth in Annie Hall. I should have won for The Producers. It was crazy.
Judd: Well, they think misery is harder to create.
Mel: I think to make people sad is easier than to make them laugh. I do. I mean, they’re both hard, you know. Dickens did them both. Nikolai Gogol. Those are two guys you should read if you want to do sad sometimes and you want to do comedy sometimes.
Judd: I think there’s nothing harder to do than make a movie that is tear-down-the-house funny. It is harder than any kind of movie to make. To figure out a way to get that kind of momentum, that kind of joy from the crowd—to create tension and release, tension and release, for ninety minutes? I mean, I saw Young Frankenstein when they played it here in Santa Monica a few years ago and it was the biggest laughs I’ve ever heard in a movie theater. Every moment of the movie. There wasn’t, like, you know, the moment that kind of resets—it just kept going and going. It’s almost a miracle.
Mel: Well, look at the cast. You had Peter Boyle. Cloris Leachman alone could have carried that movie. Gene Hackman, without money, without—you know, we gave him some billing at the end, you know, to play the blind man and pour boiling soup on Peter Boyle’s crotch. I mean, that was so—
Judd: See, I wouldn’t think he would be funny, Gene Hackman. How did you know Gene Hackman was that funny?
Mel: I like comedy that just strays an inch from reality. If it strays an inch to the right or left then it’s really good because you don’t, you feel it so real, you don’t expect it to explode. Gene Wilder does that for me every time. He’s very sincere. He’s very emotional. He cares so much. You couldn’t ask for a better real actor to play Dr. Frankenstein.
Judd: Wilder is your De Niro.
Mel: He’s actually my Alberto Sordi. If you know anything about movies, Fellini—Alberto Sordi was his leading man, his comic leading man, in those early pictures. He went on to Marcello Mastroianni for La Dolce Vita and other movies, and he was always amusing and lovely and, you know. Fellini went on to a handsome guy and I never would have done that. I would have stayed with Alberto Sordi until I died.
Judd: What about Marty Feldman?
Mel: Oh, Marty Feldman is…I don’t know. God put him together. We had nothing to do with it. The only way to hide from Marty Feldman was to put your nose against his. And then he can’t see you because his eyes, his eyes go out the sides, you know. But we used to, I mean, Jesus, it’s so wonderful. It was thrilling making that movie because Madeline Kahn, the funniest, the funniest, most moving—I mean when she did Lili Von Shtupp in Blazing Saddles and she leaned against something and missed and she…I’m a composer. I know a lot about music. She did a strange one-third off harmony with the melody. They had to carry me out.
Judd: Our next question is from Maria Markarian. How did I do on that one?
Maria: Very well, actually.
Mel: You’re in my next picture, Maria.
Maria: Let’s do it.
Mel: Just your name. You may not do a lot, but I like the name.
Maria: So my question is, aside from Carl Reiner, who has inspired you the most in your career?
Mel: I guess, you know, that’s a good question. I don’t know. It could be Buster Keaton. It could be Charlie Chaplin. Those guys inspired me. I was about nine years old and I used to go to Feltmans and Nathan’s in Coney Island and Feltmans would have these silent movies. You’d have a knish or a hot dog for a nickel and maybe three cents for the root beer. It was incredible. And then you’d see, they’d show Harold Lloyd, you know, Safety Last, or Buster Keaton, The Navigator, The General. Or City Lights with Charlie Chaplin. I was just lost in it. It was so funny it made me cry. I had a lot of early influences way before people of my time told me, in no uncertain terms, what is really funny. What is really human and what is really funny.
Judd: Okay—
Mel: That’s my answer.
Judd: Our next question is from Cindy Kapp.
Mel: Spell Kapp. K-A-P-P?
Cindy: Yes.
Mel: Oh gee, how do you like that? You know there was somebody in music—Kapp Records.
Cindy: Yeah.
Mel: Do you know that? Are you related?
Cindy:
Kapp was shortened from Kappulski.
Mel: Oh, Kappulski. Well, good shortening. Tell the family well done.
Cindy: Thank you. All right, my question is: What movie or project are you most proud of, and if you could go back and do something differently, what would you change and why?
Mel: You know, it’s hard. It’s like children. It’s hard to pick. But I do have some favorites that I am really proud of. I’d say an underrated movie that I’ve done that I’m proud of is The Twelve Chairs because it’s that perfect—for me, it’s that perfect combination of having something really important to say about the human condition and human behavior and, and flights of fancy and comedy. It’s a wonderful mélange of comedy and, I don’t know, bravery. I do like it. I’m very proud of and I’m very good in it. I have a small part, but I like it. But I’d say Twelve Chairs is overlooked.
Judd: Are you writing a musical of Blazing Saddles?
Mel: I am working on a few tunes. I don’t know if it’ll ever come to, you know. But finding Broadway was a thrill for me after sixty years of fooling around in TV and films. When The Producers opened on Broadway, it was a thrill of a lifetime, and then when it opened in London, and they stood on their chairs and screamed? I said, “This is British reserve?” But anyway, I love the payoff. I really do. I’ve got to be honest with you. You don’t get that payoff in film. And you get even less payoff on television, because you could be there alone watching it, and there’s no communal, you know, Let’s laugh together. Let’s be together and enjoy it. You get goose bumps and you cry. I mean it’s the most fulfilling thing that could ever happen to any kind of creative artist.
Judd: Are they doing it around the world now still, productions of it?
Mel: They did “Springtime for Hitler,” they did The Producers in Berlin. I didn’t go. I was afraid there would be a guy in the balcony with a rifle, but I mean, what a thrill that they did it in Austria, and in Berlin in Hitler’s theater. You know, that box. They invited me to be in that box. No thanks.
Judd: Yeah.
Mel: It’s in Akron, Ohio, now in some high school. I swear. I mean, if I’m needy, I could go see a couple of high school kids do The Producers and it would be a little bit of a thrill for me.
Judd: Oh, absolutely. Our next person is Miriam Kavas from Panorama City.
Miriam: Well, first of all, thank you for the many years of enjoyment that you’ve given everyone. My question—
Mel: This is good. I’m enjoying myself here. This is wonderful.
Miriam: Which of your productions have given you the most satisfaction?
Mel: To Be or Not to Be, with my wife. Every day, I couldn’t—I liked it so much I couldn’t get enough of her. We did “Sweet Georgia Brown” in Polish and there’s no greater joy than singing with my wife “Sweet Georgia Brown” in Polish. It was very moving. I mean, that was the most enjoyable making of a movie for me. I wasn’t worried about money or art. Every day I would come in early to make sure the set and everything was right, and I’d have a breakfast burrito with rice, beans, scrambled eggs, chorizo, and a kind of green tomatillo sauce and a big cup of coffee. I loved that. I loved my breakfast burrito and my big mug of coffee, and Anne was there already getting her hair done, so we’d hang out. We would hang out for, like, twenty-four hours. And that was, you know, how many people could stand their wives for twenty-four hours? But she—I could cry now. She was easy, let me tell you. She was easy. She was fun.
Judd: I realize that is one of the many ways I’ve imitated you, by working with my family, and with my wife, Leslie.
Mel: That’s great.
Judd: Do you have the best memory of anyone you know?
Mel: Uh, yes. I think I do have the best memory of anybody I know. Because I want to remember more than anybody I know.
Judd: Do you currently have a writing schedule? Are you writing or are you just doing work?
Mel: I have an office and I go every day and make notes. I have a little upright piano, and sometimes I compose a little bit, but I don’t know. I don’t know if anything will happen but, you know, I try to stay interested.
Judd: You’re open to inspiration.
Mel: I’m open to it. I’m desperately waiting for it.
Judd: Can we talk about me for a bit? I have to say as a young, young man—I remember when the VCR was invented and we had, we had The Godfather and Blazing Saddles and Young Frankenstein and The Producers and Annie Hall and Sleeper, and that is what built my brain. Those are the movies that made me want to do this.
Mel: How old were you then?
Judd: I was born in ’67. So you know eight, nine, ten. I must have watched those movies hundreds and hundreds of times, and it’s always fun to go to a theater and see them with people. If anyone gets a chance to see them in a movie theater with a lot of people, there’s no experience like watching Blazing Saddles with three hundred people. It’s complete madness and—
Mel: I know. The thrill is seeing it communally. Seeing it in a movie house on a big screen. And that’s, you know, television is wonderful and DVDs, they’re wonderful, but they are really a disservice to movies. I mean, you enjoy somebody cackling from the balcony. You enjoy people around you joining you in the laughter.
This interview was originally part of Sirius Radio’s Town Hall series and took place with a live audience.
MICHAEL CHE
(2014)
When I dipped a toe back into the world of stand-up comedy in the summer of 2014, one of the people performing in the clubs with me almost every night was a thirty-year-old man named Michael Che. At the time, he had just left Saturday Night Live and was dedicating himself to working on his stand-up act. I would go on before him most nights and then come out and watch him perform, and I was just blown away by his confidence and poise, by his facility with language and the sophistication of his jokes. He had that easygoing air of somebody who is clearly on his way to comedic greatness. And sure enough, before the summer was over, he’d been hired as a correspondent on The Daily Show, and then, just a few months later, Saturday Night Live hired him back, stealing him away from The Daily Show, to be one of the anchors of “Weekend Update.” When you’re that strong, that’s how it goes.
Judd Apatow: Well, you’re in the thick of it, aren’t you?
Michael Che: I’m definitely in the thick of it.
Judd: Belly of the beast?
Michael: Absolutely.
Judd: You’re kicking ass, though. You’ve taken to “Weekend Update” so quickly. Does it feel that way to you?
Michael: You never feel that way. You always feel like there’s more shit to do—and you need to tighten and tighten and tighten it. Hopefully, by the second half of the season, things start to feel a lot smoother as we get a better sense of what we can do and what we can get away with.
Judd: As an outsider, it seems like you’ve found your angle on it. And you and Colin Jost—the pairing works so well. It’s exciting to watch it come together so fast.
Michael: It’s definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in comedy. It’s exciting to know that it can still get better and go further, you know.
Judd: It works because you guys are so different.
Michael: We’re completely different. We answer questions different. We dress different. Everything about us is different, but nothing’s forced. It’s not like they like put us together like some buddy cop movie, but it totally could be.
Judd: In the beginning, Colin seemed so anal and tight, and you’re so loose and confident, it seemed like you brought something out in him that helped him discover what his point of view on the news is. The interplay between you was fascinating. I felt like I could see you guys figuring it out.
Michael: They wanted us to be different than what Seth was doing. They wanted it to be fresh. You know, Norm Macdonald’s update was nothing like Dennis Miller’s and Dennis’s was nothing like Kevin Nealon’s and Kevin’s was nothing like—you know, everyone’s different. Then, Jimmy a
nd Tina. The one thing that really jumped out to me about them was that there were no runs, really. There was mostly just headline punch lines. I wanted to do something where we could go on a run with the story and inject more personality and opinion. That’s what makes The Daily Show and Colbert so great. You’re excited to hear what their take is going to be on a certain thing as opposed to them just having something witty to say when they find out about a two-hundred-year-old turtle that got arrested or whatever.
Judd: I think the only person who did anything close to what you’re doing was Norm Macdonald.
Michael: Every generation has their “Update” host, you know, the way the people have their Johnny Carson or their Jay Leno or their Jimmy Kimmel. Norm was the “Update” guy when I was a kid, so he’s the one that will always seem the rightest to me.
Judd: People forget that Norm was fired for making O.J. jokes after NBC told him to stop. [Editor’s Note: Norm says that is a stalking horse. They just had it in for him and were looking for an excuse.]
Michael: People don’t even know that.
Judd: He also did an enormous amount of aggressive Michael-Jackson-is-a-child-molester jokes.
Michael: Super-aggressive Michael-Jackson-as-child-molester jokes. Super-aggressive Germans-love-Hasselhoff jokes, too. It was edgy stuff, but it’s just not the same climate today. Now it’s this whole thing of you are what you tweet. I could know you for twenty-five years, I could have followed your whole career, but if you tweet something I don’t like, that means you’re just this kind of a person and you should never have a job again.
