The Funniest One in the Room…

And even though that’s also the title of my book, it’s a particularly appropriate day to recycle it.

It was 15 years ago today, March 4, 1999, that Del Close left us. His official last words: “I’m tired of being the funniest one in the room.”

He was just five days short of his 65th birthday, way too young to leave us without imparting more of his improvisational wisdom, and sharing his genius with yet another generation of performers.

Of course, Del never thought he would live anywhere near as long as he did, and anyone who knew him in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s might agree. (Much later in life, he encountered one of his cronies from that period, and began rattling off his list of performing and directing accomplishments. The man gasped “My God, Del–you’ve gone sane!”)

He left behind a legacy that anyone would envy.

The Improv Olympic, now the iO, turns out hundreds of students every year, thanks to Charna carrying on his dream of “Theatre of the Heart.” Whether they know it or not, everyone that climbs on a stage and improvises today probably owes a debt of gratitude to Del. His students are on stage, screen, and television, and establish their own theatres across the country and around the world. And for those of us who knew him and were lucky enough to be his friend, he left us with memories.

A Class Act

and the best moment of the 2014 Oscars. Thanks Bill. We’ll miss you, Harold.

Improv Champs

Just a quick note to congratulate the 2014 College Improv Tournament Finals winner, Tall Grande Venti–a three person improv group! Well done, guys, and congratulations. In fact, congratulations to everyone who competed Saturday. My prediction for next year: ISU’s Improv Mafia. We’ll be starting doubles soon, guys!

Here’s a short video of Eric Idle viewing the final version of the MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL app for the iPad (it sounds like it’s being presented to him by John Goldstone, though he’s off-camera). If I had an iPad (and when I get an iPad), this would be an essential piece of equipment…

Terry Jones Progress

The latest news is that Terry Jones’ new film, Absolutely Anything, is coming along very well. Kate Beckinsale has now signed on to the sci-fi comedy, which will star Simon Pegg and the voice of Robin Williams, along with Eddie Izzard and the voices of John Cleese, Michael Palin, Eric Idle, and Terry Gilliam. Shooting is set to begin in London on March 24, and there’s more information available here…

And after he wraps, he should have just enough time to head over to the O2 Arena for the Monty Python reunion!

Bill Hicks:

I never knew Bill Hicks until after he died.

But whenever I see a list of the top standup comics of all time, I know I can disregard it if I don’t see Bill Hicks listed on it.

Whenever standup comics hang around talking about the great ones, Bill Hicks’ name eventually comes up.

When I was working for John Cleese, we were discussing the same matter. I had heard of him but somehow had never seen any of his performances, and told John that I didn’t think there was ever a full-length Bill Hicks performance on video.

“Oh, but there is! I’ve got it!” he told me, and retrieved the bulky videocassette, then insisted I watch it. And he was right. Like all great comics, he spoke truth to power, with a righteous indignation and anger that was also extremely funny.

Why haven’t most people heard of him? Well, Bill Hicks passed away on February 26, 1994, twenty years ago this week, of pancreatic cancer. He was 32 years old.

During a week when we’re all remembering the loss of another of our great comics with Harold Ramis’ passing, I was reminded of this equally sad anniversary (thank you comicmix.com).

A few months before he died, he performed on David Letterman’s show, but Dave cut it from the show before it aired. Then fifteen years later, he did something unheard of: he apologized for cutting it and aired it, with Bill’s mother Mary as his on-air guest. It remains fresh, undated, and funny. In fact, if Bill Hicks had lived, we might not have to be dealing with Miley Cyrus. But why am I telling you all this? See for yourself…

The Harold

Beginning improvisers often assume that The Harold, the long form improvisation developed at The Committee and refined by Del Close in Chicago, was named for Harold Ramis.

I point out that it isn’t true, and The Committee was performing Harolds before Harold Ramis joined Second City (the detailed story is in my Del biography The Funniest One in the Room).

But maybe it should be. And that’s the way I’m going to start thinking of it.

A Little More

Stripes.

Ghostbusters.

Animal House.

Caddyshack.

National Lampoon’s Vacation.

Groundhog Day.

Anybody who made even one of those legendary comedies could be proud. Harold Ramis made all of them.

But even more importantly, he did it by being kind. Open. Generous. Amazingly accessible. And a truly decent human being.

When I was at the iO Chicago last week, I noticed this picture of Harold and Del Close at Del’s “living wake” hanging in the office, and thought about how, although Del was gone, at least Harold was still with us. Sadly, that’s no longer correct.

The internet is currently filled with people saying what a fine man Harold Ramis was. Believe me, they’re all true.

Happy Birthday George

“All the world is birthday cake, so take a piece, but not too much.”

It’s All Too Much by George Harrison

George Harrison was born on February 25, 1943, so I’m going to have a piece of cake while I remember him.

Snapshots of Harold

A few years ago, one of the classic Second City casts was going to reunite for a one-night-only performance. I asked a few of them about doing an article about the reunion, but a couple of them were reluctant. Harold Ramis was not one of them. I asked whether he thought there was a fear of failure after being off-stage for so long, but he assured me that wasn’t the case, at least with him. “I’ve failed way too many times,” he told me with a laugh. “I’m failed on a national level. I’ve failed on a worldwide level!”

We both laughed that day. I thought about reassuring him of his many successes, but I knew it wasn’t necessary. He already knew about them, and besides, the failures were funnier.

The list of Harold Ramis’s professional successes is long and well-known. It’s worth noting, however, what an all-around great guy he was personally; if he could do anything for you, he would.

I certainly did not know him well, although our paths crossed a few times. I interviewed him for STARLOG magazine (when he directed Multiplicity–one of his lesser efforts). He helped me when I was writing The Funniest One in the Room (my Del Close biography).

He was in the midst of his publicity tour, promoting Analyze This!, when he got word that his director and friend Del Close was dying. He immediately flew back to Chicago and attended the now-famous “living wake” for Del the night before Del passed away. A very classy guy.

And at the Second City 50th Anniversary in 2009, he gladly posed for a photo with my Ghostbusters-loving son.

I didn’t know he was ill, but I was very happy to hear that Bill Murray had been by to visit. The two of them had been estranged for many years, but it’s nice to know that they managed to put it aside when it counted the most.

And it should also be noted that Harold was a Chicago guy (admittedly, by way of the North Shore). But when he became successful, he didn’t pack up and move to L.A. Instead, he kept an office and a home in Chicago.

This is a huge loss to comedy, to Chicago, and to everyone that was ever lucky enough to know him. Rest in peace, Harold.