Wednesday, April 01, 2009


great essay on Warren Oates:
All of this is Andy Kaufman's fault.

Remember how square, how innocent, we used to be? We were sad when movie characters had nervous breakdowns. It made us sick when Travis Bickle shot that guy's fingers off, or when Divine ate dog mess. We didn't know if Kaufman was for real or not, which is why he was so great, and why his comedy worked.

But finally, Andy Kaufman won. He conquered comedy. He vanquished performance. He murdered entertainment. That great, strange feeling you had the first time you saw him can never be recaptured, because eventually he educated you and made you too smart. You bit the apple. The scales fell from your eyes.

Who can bring us back to Paradise? Who can purge us of our sins? Who can put us right? Who can remind us what humans were like, back when there were humans? Who can turn us into an audience, rather than a bunch of actors playing the part of an audience?

Only Warren Oates. Warren Oates will give you the willies, and there is no theory that can explain him away, or tell you what you're feeling, or how you're supposed to feel, when you're watching him work. Warren Oates transforms the most ironic, knowing docent into an utter square...