The Aristocrats
Synopsis:
A documentary about the telling of a joke ‘The Aristocrats’, legendary amongst comedians but rarely performed in public. Essentially, it involves a family performing an ‘act’ to a talent agent, where the details of the act vary depending on the comedian, with the aim being to make it as offensive - and therefore, if done correctly, funny – as possible. The punchline is, when asked by the agent what they are called, the man (or woman) replies, “We are the Aristocrats”. The punchline is not the funny part (thank goodness) – it is the comedian’s version of the ‘act’, almost always involving incest, rape, bestiality, scatology and as much foul language as possible, which makes the joke.
The Aristocrats seems like it should make itself, particularly given the big names involved (Robin Williams, Kevin Pollack, Jason Alexander, Penn & Teller, Billy Connolly, Eric Idle, to name a very small selection). There is no voiceover – it is a quickly edited montage of around 100 comedians (mostly American) speaking about the joke and, occasionally, telling it. You might expect about 10 minutes of introduction, so that we understand what on earth this joke is all about, then in the remaining 80 minutes, let these brilliant comedians strut their stuff – tell the joke, let the audience laugh themselves stupid and, perhaps, gain an insight into the personalities of each performer, and into the interesting world of comedians in general.
Unfortunately, Provenza didn’t think it was that simple. Instead of 10 minutes of introduction, the introduction never ends. It seems inconceivable, but there are actually very few versions of the joke ever presented. It is talked
about far more than it is actually performed. When we do get to see it, Provenza cuts and chops camera angles with no apparent purpose but to distract, and rarely shows the whole joke in one continuous stream, often cutting out major parts. Most frustrating is the brilliant comedians whose version we never see at all. Billy Connolly seemed to be warming up for a doozy, but it doesn’t happen. We see the writers of the Onion
preparing a version which sounds hilarious, but are denied seeing the joke itself!
Not surprisingly, hearing people talk
about the joke becomes tiresome very quickly. There is an interesting moment near the end, in which a version of the joke is presented to a room full of comedians in the direct aftermath (3 weeks post) of September 11, breaking the tension and saving the event (a ‘grilling’ of Hugh Hefner) from disaster. This is, however, a singular exception to the otherwise fairly shallow material. Provenza seems to be searching for some narrative, or meaning, which his subject matter simply doesn’t contain.
The Aristocrats might be a gem on DVD, hopefully containing many more versions of the joke, uncut and without cutaways. This particular release, however, whilst hilarious at times, will cause more frustration than laughter.

Want more about this film?
Want something different?
