I sometimes think the person in the world who most closely resembles me is the deranged writer Maria Bamford. I don't know a ton about her. Here is what I inferred from her (now-canceled) Netflix show. She had early success. Great success! But she lacked a moral compass, and when she began to think about what she was doing in the world (shilling for an evil corporation that may have been Target), she fully melted down. She went away for a long period to make vision boards and endure many depressing hours of group therapy, and now she is determined to be a decent person, or at least to tell the truth as much as possible.
All of that "resonates" with me, except maybe the stuff about Target. I do know what it's like to spin out of control, and then to feel embarrassed about having done all that spinning. What's so admirable about Bamford is her willingness to revisit the messy old stuff now, in the present, in her work. And that self-scrutiny seems to come from a generous place. If her aim is to make people feel better about their own sordid lives, then I'd say she succeeds.
This is a clip I love:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oe17RymMqWI
Its premise is that Maria has an abundance of warm feelings for the human race, in theory, but her own limited psyche prevents her from making use of that warmth. For example, though she imagines, in her heart, she is a skipping, bubbly Maria von Trapp, she finds, in her daily practice, that she is actually a bit stingy. Even a bit passive-aggressive. Case in point: She sends many eggplant and pizza emojis to a friend who has a flip-phone, and she recalls that that friend can't see the emojis, and she keeps sending them anyway. (I love this special, small bit of meanness, and I'm certain it has never before made an appearance on a Colbert stand-up segment, or anywhere else. It makes me think of those moments at work when someone comes to me clearly looking for a moment of commiseration, and I blithely deny the person that moment, because I am feeling just a little bit lazy or unpleasant.)
Maria's social anxiety and/or BARTLEBY THE SCRIVENER tendencies keep her from fully committing to various "fun" activities that friends propose. One zany friend thinks swing-dancing would be great. (Maria isn't so sure: "They still do that? The war is over. It's OK. Everyone has access to pantyhose now.") The idea of a CrossFit-esque course immediately sends Maria into a fantasy; there's a tough-talking, fascistic "instructor" named Tonya, and on Day Five, she will announce, in front of the group: "Maria! Come on! I wanna see you PUSH IT!" And then there is the proposal to go horseback riding: "Horses bite? And also the guides are two lesbians who used to date but now they don't anymore and they just run a business together?"
Beyond the loony, wonderful specificity of Ms. Bamford's writing, there's the satire of mealy-mouthed behavior and indecisiveness. Maria can't bring herself to say: "No. This is not the life I've envisioned for myself." So instead she says, soberly: "I tell you what I'll do. I'll go horseback riding for five years. Five years, nothing more. And then I'll leave the automatic charge on my debit card, and monthly amounts will continue to be deducted for the rest of my life, without purpose, because I'm unfocused and disorganized. Do we have a deal?"
But the all-time best Maria Bamford scene is here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtLY6pa2zcY
It's Bamford satirizing office culture. "We're a little crazy here! We do things a BIT DIFFERENTLY! It's a nuthouse! People are always struggling with the fax. I say, DID YOU DIAL NINE? It's TRICKY! You have to dial NINE to GET OUT! ...We have bagels on Mondays, but once a month Rajiv brings muffins and do you know what we call that? MINI-MUFFIN MONDAY! Seriously, you're going to want to kill yourself--but hold off till Friday, because that's CASUAL DRESS. No tees, no hats, no titties!"
Maria imagines a job setting that would actually qualify as a nuthouse, and she wants this job: "Hi, my name is Zantathos; I'm the talking rabbit. I'm in charge of the volcano? You'll be working with Thor; he's the dwarf; he's kind of a drag...."
Bamford sees the world in a way no one can match. She takes the quotidian and makes it miraculous. And she's my number-one nominee for a Comedy Hall of Fame, if ever such a thing pops up.
All of that "resonates" with me, except maybe the stuff about Target. I do know what it's like to spin out of control, and then to feel embarrassed about having done all that spinning. What's so admirable about Bamford is her willingness to revisit the messy old stuff now, in the present, in her work. And that self-scrutiny seems to come from a generous place. If her aim is to make people feel better about their own sordid lives, then I'd say she succeeds.
This is a clip I love:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oe17RymMqWI
Its premise is that Maria has an abundance of warm feelings for the human race, in theory, but her own limited psyche prevents her from making use of that warmth. For example, though she imagines, in her heart, she is a skipping, bubbly Maria von Trapp, she finds, in her daily practice, that she is actually a bit stingy. Even a bit passive-aggressive. Case in point: She sends many eggplant and pizza emojis to a friend who has a flip-phone, and she recalls that that friend can't see the emojis, and she keeps sending them anyway. (I love this special, small bit of meanness, and I'm certain it has never before made an appearance on a Colbert stand-up segment, or anywhere else. It makes me think of those moments at work when someone comes to me clearly looking for a moment of commiseration, and I blithely deny the person that moment, because I am feeling just a little bit lazy or unpleasant.)
Maria's social anxiety and/or BARTLEBY THE SCRIVENER tendencies keep her from fully committing to various "fun" activities that friends propose. One zany friend thinks swing-dancing would be great. (Maria isn't so sure: "They still do that? The war is over. It's OK. Everyone has access to pantyhose now.") The idea of a CrossFit-esque course immediately sends Maria into a fantasy; there's a tough-talking, fascistic "instructor" named Tonya, and on Day Five, she will announce, in front of the group: "Maria! Come on! I wanna see you PUSH IT!" And then there is the proposal to go horseback riding: "Horses bite? And also the guides are two lesbians who used to date but now they don't anymore and they just run a business together?"
Beyond the loony, wonderful specificity of Ms. Bamford's writing, there's the satire of mealy-mouthed behavior and indecisiveness. Maria can't bring herself to say: "No. This is not the life I've envisioned for myself." So instead she says, soberly: "I tell you what I'll do. I'll go horseback riding for five years. Five years, nothing more. And then I'll leave the automatic charge on my debit card, and monthly amounts will continue to be deducted for the rest of my life, without purpose, because I'm unfocused and disorganized. Do we have a deal?"
But the all-time best Maria Bamford scene is here:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtLY6pa2zcY
It's Bamford satirizing office culture. "We're a little crazy here! We do things a BIT DIFFERENTLY! It's a nuthouse! People are always struggling with the fax. I say, DID YOU DIAL NINE? It's TRICKY! You have to dial NINE to GET OUT! ...We have bagels on Mondays, but once a month Rajiv brings muffins and do you know what we call that? MINI-MUFFIN MONDAY! Seriously, you're going to want to kill yourself--but hold off till Friday, because that's CASUAL DRESS. No tees, no hats, no titties!"
Maria imagines a job setting that would actually qualify as a nuthouse, and she wants this job: "Hi, my name is Zantathos; I'm the talking rabbit. I'm in charge of the volcano? You'll be working with Thor; he's the dwarf; he's kind of a drag...."
Bamford sees the world in a way no one can match. She takes the quotidian and makes it miraculous. And she's my number-one nominee for a Comedy Hall of Fame, if ever such a thing pops up.
Comments
Post a Comment