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CAKS received the following essay from Scott McElroy (scott3298@msn.com) in April of 2002. Enjoy!
Andy Forever!
By Scott McElroy
They said I had
one month to do de research for de paper. But I was so lazy, you know. I didn’t do nothing. I just watched de TV
and played de video games. It was so stupid. So this ees eet. Eets de whole paper. No really. I am not fooling.
Eets eet. Why are you still reading. I said I didn’t do nothing. This ees eet.
Good. Now that we’ve
gotten rid of the audience and just my real fans are reading I can tell you about my real essay! Those people just
wouldn’t understand.
From the beginning, Andy Kaufman disliked being called a comedian. He disliked being labeled at all, but if he
had to choose one label it would be “song-and-dance-man”(Zmuda 22). That label was probably closer to defining
Kaufman as a performer than “comedian.” From an early age and throughout his career music was always a tremendously
important part of Andy Kaufman’s life and his stage act.
In the spring of 1959, Nigerian percussionist Babtunde Olatunji performed at Baker Hill Elementary in Great Neck,
Long Island (Zehme 38). In the audience was a 10 year-old Andy Kaufman. The exotic rhythms entranced young Andy
and he would soon convince his father to buy him his own set of bongo drums. Next Andy would track down Olatunji
and take lessons from him. Although Andy had shown a love for music incredibly early in his life (on an episode
of David Letterman his mother relates a story of Andy reaching out of his crib to operate the phonograph (Zehme
336)), this is his first formal introduction to playing music. During this same period a friend taught him the
most basic of chords on the guitar. His mother also forced him and his younger brother Michael to take piano lessons.
The lessons didn’t last long as the boys once made their instructor cry, but Andy learned the basics of the piano
(Zehme 66).
In addition to his fascination with bongo drums, a fascination that would last his entire life (the bongos were
a common element in any Kaufman performance), young Andy was a knowledgeable pop-music connoisseur. During Elementary
school Kaufman’s favorite artist was Fabian. He collected all of the Fabian singles. One song in particular caught
his attention as a youngster and would become another stage stalwart of Kaufman’s performances. “This Friendly
World” was, by most accounts, a fairly corny song. However, the song’s sugar-sweet lyrics were, to Andy, “a gentle
anthem of kindness” (Zehme 42). Andy would often finish his shows by inducing the crowd to “put your arm around
the person sitting next to you--even if you don’t like the person sitting next to you-- and sway with the rhythm
of the music” (Andy Kaufman Plays Carnegie Hall ). At Andy’s funeral, a video of this performance was played as
the crowd sang along and swayed in time to the music.
As Andy grew older and his tastes more refined, Fabian was replaced by Elvis Presley in the heart of Kaufman.
His grandfather, Paul Kaufman, first introduced Andy to Elvis’ music when he bought him a copy of “I need your
love tonight.” Kaufman was at first not too impressed with Elvis’ music, but grew to appreciate “the King” on many
levels. “I think it started with the girls screaming over him,” says Michael Kaufman (Andy’s brother) in an interview
with Steve Ellerhoff, “perhaps what he idolized was Elvis’ fame and his ‘larger than lifeness’ and his ability
to manipulate an audience. Eventually he came to appreciate the soul in his voice.” Andy’s admiration of Elvis
often bordered on fanaticism. Kaufman once hid in the kitchen of a Las Vegas hotel eight hours in a successful
attempt to speak with Elvis. Details of the incident and what was said vary. The Zmuda biography has Andy telling
Presley “I’m going to be famous, too” (18)!
Andy’s idolization of Elvis manifested itself in a variety of ways on stage: from the subtle “Tenk you vedy much”
of Foreign Man to his dead-on Elvis impression to a rousing version of “You‘ll Never Walk Alone” accompanied only
by himself on cymbal. Although those associated with his act always argued that Andy should perform Elvis’ mainstream
hits only when doing his famous “Foreign Man transforms to Elvis” routine, Andy always insisted on doing little
known numbers that would be unrecognizable “to everyone but extreme hardcore fans...and the King himself” (Zmuda
96). Impersonating Elvis was Andy’s way of saying “thank you, thank you very much” to Presley.
Andy spent nearly a year perfecting his Elvis imitation “I would stay home most of the time and just play his
records and imitate him--I adopted him as a character, combed my hair like him, dressed like him, made believe
that I was him. For most of the day, every day, for that one year, I worked on my imitation”(Zehme 84). To Kaufman,
Elvis was serious business.
During a performance on “The Mike Douglas Show,” Douglas told Andy during a commercial break that Jerry Weintraub
(a business partner and friend to Presley) once told him that Elvis thought of all the impressionists feigning
Elvis, Kaufman was his favorite. This was confirmed following Elvis’ death when Kaufman and Zmuda (Kaufman’s best
friend and writing partner) visited Graceland. An estate custodian recognized Kaufman and showed him “the King’s”
collection of Kaufman tapes. It seems the year’s work perfecting the impression had been successful. Andy was deeply
touched.
This
paper is so stupid. It is baloney. But talking about the terrible things. The traffics is so bad. It took an hour
and a half to get here. Take my wife, please take her.
Music at a Kaufman performance didn’t always come in the form of Elvis Presley, however. Many creative Kaufman
routines centered around a variety of music. He originally performed his song “Cow Goes Moo,” for children on his
children’s television show “Uncle Andy’s Fun House” on a closed-circuit at Graham Junior College. The song required
audience participation.
Andy: The cow goes
Audience: Moo!
Andy: And the cat goes
Audience: Meow!
Andy: And the pig goes
Audience: Oink!
Andy: And the lion goes
Audience: Rrrrrrrr!
Andy: And that’s the way it goes.
This number was of course a big
hit with the eight-and-under bunch in the peanut gallery at “Uncle Andy’s Funhouse.” That was no surprise. What
was a surprise (to everyone except Andy, of course) was how well adults in comedy clubs responded to the same rudimentary
piano chords and childish lyrics. The bit was successful because it turned the tables on the audience--they were
the joke. Imagine the hip thirty-somethings at The Comedy Store or The Improvisation squealing at the top of their
lungs, “Oink!”
Another banner Kaufman routine was the “Mighty Mouse” bit. A phonograph sets alone on the stage as Kaufman enters
looking extremely nervous. He place the needle on the record and the theme song from the television show “Mighty
Mouse” (one of Andy’s favorites) begins. The song plays away while Kaufman’s eyes dart back and forth nervously.
Finally, confidently, Andy lip-synchs the line “Here I come to save the day!” Then just as suddenly, he would return
to nervous Andy. The bit was a hit on the first episode of “Saturday Night Live.” The show’s producer, Lorne Michaels,
said “More than any one thing in that first show he represented the spirit of what we were trying to do. Not only
was it--in the language of the time--a hip act, but the very hippest aspect was that he only lip-synched the part
of Mighty Mouse. That was the essence of avant-garde” (Zehme 160). Many came to recognize Andy from that performance.
The song-and-dance-man from New York made people laugh. Although, he wasn’t the first New Yorker to ever make
people laugh, he was the first to do it without ever telling a joke. “I don’t even know what’s funny,” says Jim
Carrey portraying Kaufman in the1999 film Man on the Moon. Kaufman saw music as a vital and indispensable element
in entertaining people in ways they never thought possible. Though man has always known music to be powerful and
moving, until Andy Kaufman, no one knew it could be so hilarious.
Eet ees all. I think
we should turn off de paper...I don’t know if you are laughing at me of weeth me. Tenk you vedy much...no really...why
are you still reading? Eet’s all...I am not fooling...la-la-laaaa...that ees eet.
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