On the Verge of True Stardom, Is Sarah Silverman Ready to Take Her Act to the Next Level?

She presents her opinions like a New York City private school 7^th grade boy, yet the tone of her voice and her appearance resembles a thirty-something politically correct Jewish single. This duality has been a mixed blessing for Sarah Silverman. She is certainly one of the most brazenly funny and talented comedians in America, yet the fact that Silverman’s delivery is so shockingly uncouth has been the major appeal of her comedy as well as the major roadblock in her path to true stardom. With Jesus is Magic, Silverman has gone for indie film market appeal, a goal which has certainly been aided by her recent appearance in The Aristocrats. In Jesus is Magic, it’s easy to see how Silverman has developed a cult following, yet has also has a hard time finding a mainstream fanbase. Barely five minutes into the movie, Silverman says, with a completely straight face, “People ask me if I have any reasons for doing this, and I do. For instance when I was young I was raped by a doctor…which is so bittersweet for a Jewish girl.”

There’s a lot going well for Sarah Silverman right now. Her relationship with Jimmy Kimmel has, for better or for worse, catapulted her to higher profile status due to her recurring appearing on national television. Furthermore, the success of The Aristocrats helped no comedian better than Silverman. While most comedians giggled at their own filthiness, Silverman described her lecherous story with an aging talent agent with a straight face with a look that hinted anguish, culminating in the line “Joe Franklin raped me.” It was a moment that simultaneously was disturbing and hilarious, and became the most controversial and memorable moment of the movie. The controversy surrounding that scene—Joe Franklin is considering suing Silverman for slander—has typified the mixed appeal of her entire career. Unlike any comedian since Andy Kaufman, Silverman has blurred the line between comedy and reality, making people laugh and then regret it seconds later.

The hit-or-miss nature makes it hard to review Jesus is Magic. I find Silverman hilarious, but I know there are plenty of people who don’t understand her appeal, and even more who find her flat-out offensive. To look at Jesus is Magic from a purely cinematic viewpoint, however, there are some noticeable flaws in her approach to the film. The majority of the movie is Sarah’s standup routine, which takes up about fifty minutes of the seventy-two minute film. Fifty minutes is the typical length of an HBO Special, and Jesus is Magic probably would be more successful had it simply been a special. While the extra content certainly fits Silverman’s outrageous nature, it’s a little bewildering, and really didn’t serve the film well at all. Featuring among other things, the notion that Silverman made up the show in one afternoon, examples of her prima donna tendencies (such as cursing out her stage manager for providing Volvic water as opposed to Fiji), and juxtaposing her delivery of her routine with that of an understudy. While they may be intended to be a supplement to her stage performance, they end up being more of a distraction.

Also, there are problems with her style of delivery that goes well beyond the subject matter. One of Silverman’s greatest strengths is that, even though she turns conventional serious discussions into obscenity throughout her show, she always manages to convince her audience, even if it’s just for a second, that she’s being sincere. While it’s remarkable that she can maintain our trust, this inverting of assumptions leaves her character on stage rather empty. We have seen what she doesn’t stand for, yet we have no idea what she does stand for. It’s understandable that she’s mocking racism, anti-Semitism, societal standards, and the easily offended, but if none of those are acceptable to Silverman, what is? This problem is certainly not one that affects Silverman’s rise to fame, but it’s an issue, now that she is finally beginning to receive the recognition she deserves, that she must eventually address in her development as a comedian.

The Many Mysteries of My Music Tastes

One of the strangest phenomenons in the development of my music taste is finding that I am not interested by Pearl Jam. It's a strange phenomenon; I am fascinated by both the music, history and theory of Grunge, and Nirvana and Soundgarden are two juggernauts of my iTunes library. My only song on iTunes from Pearl Jam is "Jeremy." It's undeniably one of Pearl Jam's greatest songs, and I've listened to it a lot recently trying to get into it, but to no avail. I appreciate the skillful progression and guitar work, and the dynamic lyrical content--the lyrics are much more profound than anything Kurt Cobain ever came up with. Yet, I can't get into it like I can "About a Girl" or "Spoonman."

It's not a matter of not being brash enough or being two arena-oriented for punk--I love Big Star and Cream, who are much less bombastic than Pearl Jam and not as skilled in terms of songwriting. What I find myself often complaining about is Eddie Vedder's voice. Unlike Kurt Cobain or Chris Cornell, Vedder's voice is brooding, meandering, and, to me, uninteresting. Granted I find Eric Clapton and Paul Westerberg's voice pretty uninteresting as well, but they make up for it with an intense, masterfully crafted song structure that works well with their voice (which I why I basically don't have any interest in Clapton's work outside Cream). For me Pearl Jam's music and Eddie Vedder's voice don't have much in common, and the fact that they don't really do anything to help each other out is one major thing that holds me back.

One of the most common misconceptions about punk rock is that it's nothing but a matter of attitude. Yes, attitude plays a central role to punk's appeal, but punk is nothing without manifesting that attitude into music, whether through the pace and crunch of guitars, the snarl of a voice, or the vibrancy of a lyric. An ideal punk song is menacing in every element, while still being well-developed, carefully designed, and, at least in terms of musicianshup, professional. Pearl Jam is the least punk of the major grunge bands and have very little menace; they sound more like the Allman Brothers than the Stooges. What draws me to Grunge is the expansion of Punk's legacy to incorporate a metallic sound with popular style of music and the exceptional circumstances that led to Grunge's rise. While for some they may be the hope of grunge, for me they did little musically to expand the boundaries of Punk, or for that matter Rock 'n Roll.