Peter Sellers Gives a Quick Demonstration of British Accents

A while ago we brought you a hilar­i­ous series of record­ings of the British comedic actor Peter Sell­ers read­ing The Bea­t­les’ “She Loves You” in four dif­fer­ent accents. Today we have a brief clip from a tele­phone call by Sell­ers on the set of Stan­ley Kubrick­’s 1964 film Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Wor­ry­ing and Love the Bomb (in which Sell­ers played three dif­fer­ent roles). Here he demon­strates the nuances of a few of the many accents around Great Britain. From cock­ney to upper class and from Lon­don to Edin­burgh, it’s clas­sic Sell­ers all the way.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Peter Sell­ers: His Life in Home Movies

Peter Sell­ers Per­forms The Bea­t­les in Shake­speare­an Mode

David Lynch Teaches Louis C.K. How to Host The David Letterman Show

As Sea­son 3 of Louie winds to a close, we find things look­ing up for the hap­less Louis CK. The head of CBS invites Louie to his office and gives him a career-defin­ing oppor­tu­ni­ty, the chance to take over the Late Show from a retir­ing David Let­ter­man. But that is all pred­i­cat­ed on one thing — the schlumpy come­di­an becom­ing a pol­ished late-night talk show host in a few short months. And the man tasked with help­ing Louie make the tran­si­tion is none oth­er than David Lynch, play­ing the role of “Jack Dahl.” Jer­ry Sein­feld, Chris Rock, and Jay Leno all make appear­ances in this episode. But make no mis­take, it’s Lynch, the only non-come­di­an of the bunch, who pro­vides the biggest laughs.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qob3FTPJ7cM

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Sein­feld, Louis C.K., Chris Rock, and Ricky Ger­vais Dis­sect the Craft of Com­e­dy (NSFW)

by | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 4 ) |

Seinfeld, Louis C.K., Chris Rock, and Ricky Gervais Dissect the Craft of Comedy (NSFW)

Record­ed and aired last year, HBO’s Talk­ing Fun­ny is an hour long, unscript­ed sit-down with four of the biggest names in comedy—Ricky Ger­vais, Jer­ry Sein­feld, Chris Rock, and Louis C.K.. If you’re famil­iar with the work of any or all of these guys, you know you’re in for a lit­tle pro­fun­di­ty and a lot of pro­fan­i­ty. This is def­i­nite­ly, I repeat, not safe for work, and not safe for any­one who takes offense eas­i­ly. They go to some pret­ty nervy places, but that’s what we’ve come to expect from these four. Well, three actu­al­ly. Sein­feld comes in for some good-natured rib­bing for an entire career of work­ing “clean,” drop­ping an f‑bomb maybe once or twice in his act, ever.

So, if you can take the strong lan­guage that pops up occasionally–albeit in very reflec­tive and hilar­i­ous ways that I argue dif­fuse ten­sion and aren’t in the least bit mean-spirited–then you will be reward­ed by a con­ver­sa­tion between four high­ly accom­plished actors and come­di­ans who love to talk about their craft, com­pare war sto­ries, decon­struct their com­ic per­son­ae, and express gen­uine appre­ci­a­tion for each other’s work. But as soon as the con­ver­sa­tion seems to get too heady or sen­ti­men­tal, it’s back to sick humor and insults. There’s some­thing of the inse­cure ten-year old boy in each of these guys, who tend to use com­e­dy as a defen­sive weapon to fend off pain and sad­ness with­out run­ning away from either one; it works dif­fer­ent­ly in each com­ic, and it’s fas­ci­nat­ing to watch.

Ger­vais is espe­cial­ly thought­ful about his respon­si­bil­i­ty to the audi­ence (after some ini­tial brava­do), which comes as some sur­prise con­sid­er­ing his usu­al role as an obliv­i­ous ass. Sein­feld, the elder states­man, gets some def­er­ence from the oth­ers, but even at 57 is still boy­ish and slight­ly corny. Rock and C.K. are two of the smartest comics of their gen­er­a­tion and also two of the most pro­fane, but again, I think they pull it off because they are also two of the most hon­est and least threat­en­ing men to ever grace a stage—C.K. the self-dep­re­cat­ing sad sack and Rock the diminu­tive class clown with a per­pet­u­al imp­ish grin. Make up your own mind about the touchy sub­jects, or avoid them alto­geth­er, but over­all, I think each of these come­di­ans comes across as lov­able pre­cise­ly because they’re will­ing to be them­selves, vul­ner­a­bil­i­ties, child­ish insults, sweaty male ids, and all. They might make it look easy, but this is work for pro­fes­sion­als.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How the Great George Car­lin Showed Louis CK the Way to Suc­cess (NSFW)

“Learn Eng­lish With Ricky Ger­vais,” A New Pod­cast Debuts (NSFW)

Come­di­ans in Cars Get­ting Cof­fee: Jer­ry Seinfeld’s News Series Debuts on the Web

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.

Always the Director: Martin Scorsese Spoofs Himself in Two Commercials

Over the years, Mar­tin Scors­ese has earned a rep­u­ta­tion as a con­sum­mate film­mak­er, an obses­sive per­fec­tion­ist who lives and breathes cin­e­ma. In these two com­mer­cials the famed direc­tor moves to the front of the cam­era to make fun of his own man­ic per­fec­tion­ism.

In 2003 Scors­ese was asked to play him­self in a com­mer­cial for Amer­i­can Express (see above), which was one of the spon­sors of the Tribeca Film Fes­ti­val. In keep­ing with his rep­u­ta­tion for fas­tid­i­ous­ness, Scors­ese demand­ed to see a resume and show reel from vet­er­an com­mer­cial direc­tor Jim Jenk­ins before agree­ing to the shoot. “It’s like Kobe Bryant ask­ing for your bas­ket­ball cre­den­tials,” Jenk­ins told Ste­fano Hat­field at Adver­tis­ing Age. “What are you gonna say? I once direct­ed Tonya Hard­ing in a Fox Sports com­mer­cial?”

Scors­ese appar­ent­ly liked what he saw, because Jenk­ins was hired. The shoot took place in a Los Ange­les drug­store dur­ing a sin­gle day. “The main chal­lenge,” wrote Hat­field in his arti­cle, “was to get Mr. Scors­ese to speak as quick­ly as we all think he does. He actu­al­ly had to be coaxed into that machine-gun deliv­ery we have all come to expect of him. While it is entire­ly cred­i­ble that this per­fec­tion­ist would have his nephew stage a par­ty all over again for a bet­ter shoot, Mr. Scors­ese admit­ted that he had­n’t actu­al­ly col­lect­ed a roll of film from a drug­store for 15 years.”

Jenk­ins and Scors­ese teamed up again for a 2008 AT&T com­mer­cial that was shown in the­aters to encour­age movie-goers to silence their phones. It shows Scors­ese barg­ing into the home of a moth­er and her young son and pro­ceed­ing to direct a pri­vate phone call.  The mes­sage: “We won’t inter­rupt your phone calls. Please don’t inter­rupt our movies.” Scors­ese was orig­i­nal­ly expect­ed to direct the com­mer­cial, accord­ing to Jenk­ins, but decid­ed just to act in it. “Obvi­ous­ly he’s a nat­ur­al actor,” Jenk­ins said of Scors­ese in an inter­view with Cre­ativ­i­ty-online. “But he was ner­vous. He just want­ed it to be fun­ny. He said, ‘I can’t know if it’s fun­ny. Just make it fun­ny.’ ”

You can watch the com­mer­cial below to decide for your­self whether it’s fun­ny. And be sure to come back tomor­row, when we fea­ture an imag­i­na­tive com­mer­cial direct­ed by Scors­ese him­self.

Relat­ed con­tent:

Mar­tin Scors­ese’s Very First Films: Three Imag­i­na­tive Short Works

Mar­tin Scors­ese Appears in New Apple Ad, Plays on His Chill­ing Cameo in Taxi Dri­ver

Mitch Hedberg Remembered by Modern Comedian, a New Documentary Web Series

If ever there was a gold­en era to enjoy com­e­dy, it’s now, a moment when come­di­ans and those who love their work have hearti­ly exploit­ed near­ly every form of media new­ly gen­er­at­ed by the inter­net. At times I won­der if the medi­um of pod­cast­ing does­n’t owe its very exis­tence to those fun­ny men and women — the ear­li­est high-pro­file exam­ple being Ricky Ger­vais, col­lec­tive­ly with his writ­ing part­ner Stephen Mer­chant and oracle/object of ridicule Karl Pilk­ing­ton  — who imme­di­ate­ly under­stood its poten­tial. Some come­di­ans pod­cast so well that you’d almost believe they had just been wait­ing for the tech­nol­o­gy to arrive. Alas, it arrived in the mid-2000s, too late for Mitch Hed­berg to make use of it. Though we’ll nev­er know how or if Hed­berg, who died in 2005, would have pod­cast, we can at least still call up his comedic spir­it at a momen­t’s notice through the mir­a­cle of inter­net video.

Though Hed­berg has gone, his fans’ inter­est in his uncon­ven­tion­al per­sona, sen­si­bil­i­ty, and deliv­ery haven’t. A new doc­u­men­tary web series called Mod­ern Come­di­an has even put out a whole episode ded­i­cat­ed to him, based upon an inter­view with his wid­ow Lynn Shaw­croft. She describes Hed­berg as “a huge pro­po­nent of day­dream­ing,” which seems only to begin to describe his way of life and work. If you missed out on Hed­berg dur­ing his life, don’t miss out on him dur­ing this wave of posthu­mous pop­u­lar­i­ty. Just above, you’ll find embed­ded a five-minute stand-up set that should give you a glimpse of the dis­tinc­tive angles from which Hed­berg viewed exis­tence. And the next time a whole bunch of inter­net com­e­dy enthu­si­asts insist that you sim­ply must check out a strange young ris­ing tal­ent, cer­tain­ly don’t make the same mis­take I did eight years ago and tell your­self you can always catch him lat­er.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

“Learn Eng­lish With Ricky Ger­vais,” A New Pod­cast Debuts (NSFW)

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall.

Peter Sellers: His Life in Home Movies

Peter Sell­ers was a com­pul­sive home movie mak­er. His house was clut­tered with cam­eras, cables and tape recorders, accord­ing to his first wife Anne Howe, and he liked to bring a cam­era along with him wher­ev­er he went, some­times hand­ing it to a com­pan­ion and clown­ing around in front of the lens.

In 1995, fif­teen years after Sell­er­s’s death, pro­duc­ers from BBC Are­na sort­ed through his exten­sive archive and assem­bled some of the best footage for a film called The Peter Sell­ers Sto­ry. In 2002 they short­ened it into The Peter Sell­ers Sto­ry: As He Filmed It (above), which tells the sto­ry of the come­di­an’s life almost exclu­sive­ly with footage from his own cam­era.

There are glimpses of some notable peo­ple from the actor’s cir­cle, includ­ing Stan­ley Kubrick, Sophia Loren, Lord Snow­don, Princess Mar­garet, Britt Ekland, Blake Edwards, Spike Mil­li­gan and Orson Welles. The audio is pieced togeth­er from vin­tage per­for­mances and inter­views, along with com­men­tary by Sell­er­s’s friends, fam­i­ly and col­leagues. It’s a unique film, offer­ing a per­son­al look at the enig­mat­ic and emo­tion­al­ly trou­bled genius who was able to slip con­fi­dent­ly into an amaz­ing range of personas–often in the same film–but was nev­er sure of his own. As Sell­ers once told an inter­view­er:

I have no per­son­al­i­ty of my own, you see. I could nev­er be a star because of this. I’m a char­ac­ter actor. I could­n’t play Peter Sell­ers the way Cary Grant plays Cary Grant, say–because I have no con­crete image of myself. I look in the mir­ror and what I see is some­one who has nev­er grown up–a crash­ing sen­ti­men­tal­ist who alter­nates between great heights and black depths. You know, it’s a fun­ny thing, but when I’m doing a role I feel it’s the role doing the role, if you know what I mean. When some­one tells me “You were great as so-and-so,” I feel they should be telling this to so-and-so, and when I fin­ish a pic­ture I feel a hor­ri­ble sud­den loss of iden­ti­ty.

The Peter Sell­ers Sto­ry: As He Filmed It will be added to our col­lec­tion of 500 Free Movies Online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Peter Sell­ers Per­forms The Bea­t­les in Shake­speare­an Mode

Peter Sell­ers Reads The Bea­t­les’ ‘She Loves You’ in Four Voic­es

 

The Dead Authors Podcast: H.G. Wells Comically Revives Literary Greats with His Time Machine

Record­ed live in front of an audi­ence at the Upright Cit­i­zens Brigade The­atre in Los Ange­les, The Dead Authors Pod­cast—“Unscript­ed, bare­ly researched, all fun!”—showcases rau­cous con­ver­sa­tions between “time-trav­el­er” H.G. Wells (Paul F. Tomp­kins) and var­i­ous “dead authors.” Some of Wells’ guests have includ­ed Aesop, Dorothy Park­er, Gertrude Stein, Carl Sagan, and Jorge Luis Borges, all played by come­di­ans like Andy Richter (as Emi­ly Dick­in­son) and Bri­an Stack (as P.G. Wode­house).

In the episode above, Wells wel­comes the noto­ri­ous­ly misog­y­nis­tic and alleged­ly anti-Semit­ic Friedrich Niet­zsche (James Ado­mi­an) and the noto­ri­ous­ly racist writer of “weird tales” H.P. Love­craft (Paul Scheer). As the pod­cast descrip­tion has it, “if you are eas­i­ly offend­ed, you may find this one a bit chal­leng­ing.” The offense is mit­i­gat­ed by the fact that the dis­cus­sion “very rarely makes any sense AT ALL,” and that it’s damned fun­ny.

Both “authors” spout exag­ger­at­ed par­o­dies of their philoso­phies, in ridicu­lous accents, and (as you can see from the pho­to above), look equal­ly ridicu­lous to an audi­ence that some­times laughs along, some­times doesn’t, as will hap­pen in live com­e­dy. The actors are game, ad-lib­bing with ease and con­fi­dence and clear­ly hav­ing a great time. The only moments that aren’t impro­vised are when the actors play­ing Niet­zsche and Love­craft read from the writ­ers’ actu­al texts. In this con­text (and in these voic­es), the two both indeed make lit­tle sense. They’ll sur­vive the takedown—these are two dead authors who tend to be tak­en far too seri­ous­ly by their devo­tees. So, go ahead, lis­ten to Niet­zsche huff and puff his way through his bom­bas­tic and orac­u­lar pro­nounce­ments; hear Love­craft hiss through his florid and para­noid prose. It’s all for a good cause. The Dead Authors pod­cast ben­e­fits 826LA, a non-prof­it writ­ing and tutor­ing cen­ter for kids age 6–18.

You can find real works by Niet­zsche and Love­craft in our col­lec­tion of Free eBooks and Free Audio Books.

Josh Jones is a doc­tor­al can­di­date in Eng­lish at Ford­ham Uni­ver­si­ty and a co-founder and for­mer man­ag­ing edi­tor of Guer­ni­ca / A Mag­a­zine of Arts and Pol­i­tics.

The Crimson Permanent Assurance: Monty Python’s Comic Fantasy of Revolt Against the Corporations

In art, cer­tain themes are ever­green. They nev­er go out of date. Among them are love, death, and the intrin­si­cal­ly dehu­man­iz­ing nature of cor­po­ra­tions.

In 1983 Mon­ty Python tapped into one of the Great Themes with their short film The Crim­son Per­ma­nent Assur­ance. It tells the sto­ry of a group of elder­ly accoun­tants, “strained under the oppres­sive yoke of their new cor­po­rate man­age­ment,” who rise up against The Very Big Cor­po­ra­tion of Amer­i­ca and set sail on the high seas of inter­na­tion­al finance as a maraud­ing band of pirates.

The film was orig­i­nal­ly con­ceived by direc­tor Ter­ry Gilliam as an ani­mat­ed sequence for inclu­sion in Mon­ty Python’s The Mean­ing of Life, but as the idea grew he talked the group into let­ting him devel­op it into a live-action film. The Crim­son Per­ma­nent Assur­ance was even­tu­al­ly shown both on its own and as a pro­logue to The Mean­ing of Life. The title was inspired by the 1952 Burt Lan­cast­er adven­ture film The Crim­son Pirate. The cast is made up most­ly of unknown actors, but if you watch close­ly you’ll catch a glimpse of most of the Python mem­bers. Gilliam and Michael Palin have cameo roles as win­dow wash­ers, and Eric Idle, Ter­ry Jones and Gra­ham Chap­man appear very briefly at the begin­ning of the board­room scene.

The Crim­son Per­ma­nent Assur­ance is a delight­ful lit­tle film–and just as rel­e­vant now as ever, a reminder of the utter absur­di­ty of the claim that “cor­po­ra­tions are peo­ple too.”

You will find The Crim­son Per­ma­nent Assur­ance added to our col­lec­tion of 500 Free Movies Online.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ter­ry Gilliam: The Dif­fer­ence Between Kubrick (Great Film­mak­er) and Spiel­berg (Less So)

The Best Ani­mat­ed Films of All Time, Accord­ing to Ter­ry Gilliam

Ter­ry Gilliam (Mon­ty Python) Shows You How to Make Your Own Cutout Ani­ma­tion

« Go BackMore in this category... »
Quantcast