Bernie Can Mac on Me Anytime

Bernie Can Mac on Me Anytime by Roxanne McDonald

Considering the genres and subgenres of comedy, we can acknowledge what a comedic talent Bernie Mac is.

Maybe you have never thought about it in technical terms; maybe you don’t want to dissect the little creative entertainment you enjoy each week. But after coming round, finally, to the greatness of The Bernie Mac Show and trying to figure out just what it is that is so laugh-out-loud funny, I have decided to investigate further.

For me, effective comedy is that which makes me laugh when no one else is in the room. You know, some comedy works so well because it rides the wave of collective laughter—and we laugh more or harder because other people are laughing, which makes us do the same. But with comics like Bernie Mac, I find myself guffawing, chuckling, and giggling consistently…despite how it is one o’clock in the morning and despite how I have no one else to nudge share laughs with, or feed off of.

In this respect, I often get all thoughtful after a series of laughs while watching Bernie Mac. I wonder what it is exactly that makes his material work so well that I go ballistic if the show isn’t on. (On Friday nights, for instance, it is pre-empted by—bleck—sports.) I try to characterize Bernie Mac’s style, for instance, and figure out which category of humor he fits in:

there’s Black Comedy, though not that which is performed by Black comedians/ comediennes, necessarily. Black comedy is of the sick, dark, mechanistic type that is so rife with irony, so uncomfortably disturbing that you can’t help but respond with quizzical or shocked laughter. Pulp Fiction, for instance, or Reservoir Dogs (one of the most uniquely violent films, I think)—or almost any of Tarantino’s work—is darkly humorous.

In the scene in Pulp Fiction where Travolta’s character is sitting in the front seat and aiming a gun at the captured kid in the back seat is exemplary: Travolta holds the gun in a kind of leaning on the back of the front bench seat fashion. As the driver, Travolta’s partner, Samuel L. Jackson, hits a pothole, the gun goes off and blows the kid’s head off. Everyone in the theatre laughed. Well, I suppose almost everyone.

(Another of my favorite Tarantino moments is in Reservoir Dogs, wherein a bunch of the most malicious, malevolent thugs are lined up in front of the syndicate [or whatever] boss, who is assigning them codenames that are colors—Mr. Blue, Mr. White, Mr. Pink. Steve Buscemi’s character has been assigned the name Mr. Pink, and just before the boss gets ready to go into how they will rip off and destroy, etc. etc.. Buscemi flips out about having to be Pink! Classic.)

Bernie Mac just barely touches on dark comedy: he makes us laugh when he talks about torturing his adopted nephew and nieces, for instance. But Mac isn’t singularly of the dark comedy genre….

In the next subtype, the comedian/comedienne creates a character, or persona, building on and getting laughs through a stereotype, or caricature—whom he/she plays. Roseanne created one of the funniest and most popular characters of all TV time by basing it in large part on her original, early years as a mother in a low-income tax bracket with the problems and number of kids and working class hubby that all are developed so brilliantly for Roseanne.
Bernie Mac is kind of like this type of comic, though he has added other dimensions that I am guessing are not part of any real life stuff (though comedy works at one level on that which is true and which in the material is exaggerated, drawn out). Then again, I have never had the pleasure of seeing older Bernie Mac material, wherein I have imagined him adopting that pissed off parent persona.

Then there’s improv (improvisational) comedy, wherein off-the-cuff, extemporaneous stuff works because it is just that—unplanned, unscripted–and catches you off guard. I am doubtful that too much is improvisational on The Bernie Mac Show, unless the producers, writers, directors, and Bernie let some things get through because they accidentally worked in rehearsal.

Then again, if you are patient, and stay with the show through the rolling of the credits, you will get a treat of Bernie fumbling his lines, being funny as the person and not the character, etc.—a.k.a. doing bloopers not included in the context of the actual episode.

Observational comedy is some of the funny stylings of my favorite TV sit-com comic, Jerry Seinfeld. It is everyday, banal, pecuniary stuff that is elevated to the common denominator of humanity and is made absolutely hilarious (again, because it is rooted in truth).

Like Seinfeld, Bernie Mac does do the observational thing…but here is where he puts his own signature tweaks to the material: first, Bernie Mac almost friggin yells about what is happening, what he is experiencing, what he is witnessing in his household, social circles, or community. Second, he talks to the camera, the frame, that is of course the audience—in Mac’s case, the American Audience. So in between tantrums, catastrophes, tragic flaws, or everyday

trip-ups, Mac sits in his study, all finely dressed and dignified, but yells to us, all indignified, “America! Now I ask you…” That is funny part one. When he is pissed, disillusioned, depressed, or debauched in one way or another, though, besides repeating “America”, he uses perfect pauses and exacting facial expressions.

Aha! There’s his particular gift: he will, for instance, be talking about how mistreated and unappreciated he is, telling America how we would feel the same way if we were in his position. Then he stops. Looks down or away, then looks back, at us, and makes a face of either staring, glaring rage or abject pitiful mopiness, for example,…and he will play on that look, coyly dipping his head then looking back up like a puppy left in the rain as if to say, “Won’t you coddle me a little?” Without another word. Damn, that works.

Those looks are what do it for me. Added to how friggin savvy, clever, and self-effacing he is, as well.

As one writer at Wikipedia.com (one of the coolest informal research collaborations online, if you ask me) notes, comedy is typically divided into multiple genres “based on the source of humor, the method of delivery, and the context in which it is delivered.” That’s what I will continue to study as I try to figure out what is so friggin funny about Bernie Mac. When I master this task, I’ll move on to my absolute favorite of all time, if-I-could-only-take-one-TV-series- set-of DVDs-to-a-deserted-island choice, Seinfeld. As of yet, I have not dared analyze the royalties of comedy. But I will. I will. So be prepared for more oh so ingenious proclamations.

No Comments »

No comments yet.

Leave a comment

You must be logged in to post a comment.