The kind of deliciously subversive art we see here can only be spawned from oppression. That's true especially of comedy. This is the work of some highly intelligent and creative folks, of course especially Pryor himself, who provides that most important ingredient.
A few months ago I watched "Live and Smokin'" which was a stand-up performance by Pryor from a few years earlier than this. It was taped in a time before his huge success and featured him in a relatively small club. He was obviously high. As he trotted out one joke after another, a picture emerged of a gentle and intelligent soul who has seen and lived through every social hardship imaginable. The tone was vulgar (as always), but extremely thoughtful. It's an overtly pain-filled performance that will change you if you see it. The audience reaction was awkward, at best.
So, having learned about him, I came to this. It's an entirely different ball game having to satisfy so many others' visions (director, producers, network et. al) but it's still Pryor's painful life experiences that seep through all the cracks.
He had come a long way between the two products, from merely letting his pain spill over to cleverly constructing a series of cultural statements out of it. It in fact comes off as a desperate attempt to save an American black culture that he saw as dying, or more accurately, being swallowed up. Featured are actual performances in swing dance, jazz and African (communal!) dance, and soul. The comedy bits are actually outnumbered by said performances and some "serious" short films. All this in the face of more popular black culture of the time. Blacksploitation aside.
Pryor also evidently had a soft spot for the similarly oppressed gay culture, presumably from his upbringing in a whorehouse, where he surely became acquainted with all forms of burdened life. He here gave a platform for performers straight from the gay clubs. Why don't similarly beaten-down minorities relate to each other like this more often? Odd.
The best comedy is that which causes two reactions. First the laughter. Then when the laughter dies down, the reflexion and examination of why it was so funny. Most often you will realize that you were made to laugh at something that is not funny at all. In fact the opposite. The legacy of intelligent comedians who do this include Bruce, Carlin and more recently Rock. But Pryor outshines them all. He knows more about pain.
This show would never be allowed on a major network today.
Added: The last skit on the last disc (3) is absolutely priceless. It features Pryor being confronted by leaders of the black community. They demand that he use his show as a platform for their cause, pump him up into a mad frenzy and they all storm toward the stage, ushering him to his performance. Pryor then staggers on stage and performs a perfectly mousy version of "There's No Business Like Show Business." This one moment alone was worth the whole 6 hours.
A few months ago I watched "Live and Smokin'" which was a stand-up performance by Pryor from a few years earlier than this. It was taped in a time before his huge success and featured him in a relatively small club. He was obviously high. As he trotted out one joke after another, a picture emerged of a gentle and intelligent soul who has seen and lived through every social hardship imaginable. The tone was vulgar (as always), but extremely thoughtful. It's an overtly pain-filled performance that will change you if you see it. The audience reaction was awkward, at best.
So, having learned about him, I came to this. It's an entirely different ball game having to satisfy so many others' visions (director, producers, network et. al) but it's still Pryor's painful life experiences that seep through all the cracks.
He had come a long way between the two products, from merely letting his pain spill over to cleverly constructing a series of cultural statements out of it. It in fact comes off as a desperate attempt to save an American black culture that he saw as dying, or more accurately, being swallowed up. Featured are actual performances in swing dance, jazz and African (communal!) dance, and soul. The comedy bits are actually outnumbered by said performances and some "serious" short films. All this in the face of more popular black culture of the time. Blacksploitation aside.
Pryor also evidently had a soft spot for the similarly oppressed gay culture, presumably from his upbringing in a whorehouse, where he surely became acquainted with all forms of burdened life. He here gave a platform for performers straight from the gay clubs. Why don't similarly beaten-down minorities relate to each other like this more often? Odd.
The best comedy is that which causes two reactions. First the laughter. Then when the laughter dies down, the reflexion and examination of why it was so funny. Most often you will realize that you were made to laugh at something that is not funny at all. In fact the opposite. The legacy of intelligent comedians who do this include Bruce, Carlin and more recently Rock. But Pryor outshines them all. He knows more about pain.
This show would never be allowed on a major network today.
Added: The last skit on the last disc (3) is absolutely priceless. It features Pryor being confronted by leaders of the black community. They demand that he use his show as a platform for their cause, pump him up into a mad frenzy and they all storm toward the stage, ushering him to his performance. Pryor then staggers on stage and performs a perfectly mousy version of "There's No Business Like Show Business." This one moment alone was worth the whole 6 hours.