Comic genius dies

Comedian Jonathan Winters died.  When I was a kid and heard he was appearing on the Tonight Show, back in the Jack Parr and then Johnny Carson days, I would stay up late to watch him. The schtick was to hand him an object–a stick, a rope, a mop–whereupon he would improvise comic riffs that would leave me laughing so hard it would hurt.

 

From Megan Buerger in the Washington Post:

Jonathan Winters, the rotund, rubber-faced, squinty-eyed master of impressions and improvisational comedy who became a staple of late-night television for decades and was a mentor to Robin Williams and an inspiration for performers as varied as Steve Martin, Jim Carrey and Jimmy Kimmel, died April 11 at his home in Montecito, Calif. He was 87.

In a career spanning more than six decades, Mr. Winters received some of the highest honors of his profession and appeared in dozens of movies and television programs in addition to his work on the comedy circuit. He was known to start his stage shows by commanding an applauding audience that had risen to its feet, “Please remain standing throughout the evening.”

Yet it was less the punch line he savored than immersing himself in a far-ranging series of characters: hillbillies, arrogant city slickers, nerve-shattered airline pilots trying to hide their fear, a hungry cat eyeing a mouse, the oldest living airline stewardess.

“I was fighting for the fact that you could be funny without telling jokes,” he told the New York Times, adding that he thought of himself foremost as a writer and less as a stand-up comedian. He said he idolized writers with a gift for humor and singled out the sophisticated absurdity of James Thurber as an influence.

Two of his most memorable characters — cranky granny Maude Frickert and bumpkin farmer Elwood P. Suggins (“I think eggs 24 hours a day”) — were born from his early television routines.

“Nobody was safe,” said Gerald Nachman, an entertainment journalist and author. “He dug ruthlessly into American archetypes: disgruntled westerners, judgmental Martians, little old ladies, nosy gas station attendants. It was risky, but he did it so well. It became a commentary on Americans, and no other comedian could pull it off.” . . .

On television, Mr. Winters’s self-titled variety show aired on NBC from 1956 to 1957 and displayed him in dazzling form as a sketch comic. In one episode, he lampooned newsman Edward R. Murrow, conducting an earnest interview with Napoleon (he played both roles). In other spots, he portrayed Robin Hood and Gen. George Armstrong Custer.

His second show aired on CBS from 1967 to 1969, with Mr. Winters, in his signature characters, bantering with celebrity guests. Among them was Jack Paar, who had helped jump-start Mr. Winters’s career by hosting him on his own show years earlier.

In 1964, Mr. Winters asked the audience of “The Jack Paar Show” whether they ever undressed in front of a dog. Once the laughter died down, he added: “You think about that for a minute. A bird somehow doesn’t count. Or a cat. But a dog.” Pause. “They really stare.”

In another appearance with Paar, Mr. Winters was handed a long stick and asked to improvise. As he held it, he started making the clicking noise of a fishing reel.

“Well, that was a pretty good cast, wasn’t it Bob?” he said to an imaginary friend. “I think we’re on to something.”

Then, he looked into the distance and tugged at the pretend fishing rod. “I’m sorry, Margaret,” he said, “try to swim in.”

via Jonathan Winters, comedian behind memorable characters on late-night TV, dies at 87 – The Washington Post.

About Gene Veith

Professor of Literature at Patrick Henry College, the Director of the Cranach Institute at Concordia Theological Seminary, a columnist for World Magazine and TableTalk, and the author of 18 books on different facets of Christianity & Culture.

  • Pete

    I still fondly recall him demolishing a gas station in “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World”.

  • Sharon Philp

    My father used to tell the story of how he met Jonathan Winters once. My mother had a pre-natal checkup when she was pregnant with me, so my father was caring for my older sister who was no more than two. While at the Beverly Hills office building where the doctor was, my father and sister ended up on the same elevator with Mr. Winters who, referencing my sister, quipped, “There’s one of the little people!”

  • Tom Hering

    Pete, you’re a fan of that movie? So am I!

  • Joe
  • Pete

    Tom

    Yeah, what a classic. Kicking the bucket, looking for the big “W” – the whole thing. And what a cast! I believe I saw it at a drive-in theater with my parents when I looked like my avatar.

  • http://www.brandywinebooks.net Lars Walker

    I have a clear memory of watching a TV biography of Winters some years back, which strongly suggested he had some kind of Christian faith. But I can’t find any evidence of that in a web search, so it was probably wishful thinking.

  • kempin04

    Tom and Pete,

    One of the great comedies. My family used to watch it whenever it aired. (You know, before VCRs and stuff)

  • http://theoldadam.com/ the Old Adam

    I was lucky enough to meet Mr. Winters, as well. He seemed very lonely and depressed at the time.

    __

    Also, Fred Bank has died. He played ‘Lumpy’ on the ‘Leave it to Beaver’ show.

  • Tom Hering

    One of the great comedies. (kempin04 @ 7)

    Politically insightful, too.

    And then they decide I’m supposed to get a smaller share, like I’m someone extra special stupid. Even if it is a democracy, in a democracy it don’t matter how stupid you are, you still get an equal share. – Lennie Pike (Jonathan Winters)


CLOSE | X

HIDE | X