RIP - Richard Pryor

Richard Pryor died a couple of days ago. After nearly twenty years of watching himself deteriorate from multiple sclerosis, he passed away Saturday of a heart attack. Some people might allude to Pryor's death as the end of an era. But the era they're probably referring to had ended long before he took his last breath.

I never knew Pryor personally, but I still have a favorite story I tell about him. Me, my brother, and friends went to see his Live on the Sunset Strip movie at a theatre in Georgetown in about 1980. At one point, laughing hysterically as everyone in the theatre was doing, I grabbed the seat in front of me to steady myself. The seat, loosely attached to the floor as it was, separated from the floor completely in my grasp. We almost died laughing as I sat there, holding the theatre seat in my hands. Richard Pryor, has to this day, been the only comedian to ever make me break furniture.

Richard Pryor came into prominence in a crucial point in my life. My brother and I had missed the bulk of the blaxploitation era of the mid and late seventies, largely due to my mother's concerns over those movies' violent and (especially) sexual content. Pryor's stand-up movies provided us with a loophole. Mom knew the language was raw, but she also knew that there was little chance that we'd see Pam Grier's titties.

But the things that Pryor said! For my all-male-Catholic-school-educated mind, Richard Pryor's views on sex, politics, and the "just us" system melted my face off. He satirized Black foolishness and White racism mercilessly. And he influenced nearly every comedian (even Byron Allen?) to follow him.

One can't speak of Richard without speaking of his faults, as well. They were often the source of some of his greatest, rawest comedy. For example, hiz upbringing in his grandmother's brothel in Peoria probably exposed him to things most youngsters should never have to see. And it undoubtedly contributed to his frequently less-than-progressive view of women, which took its ugliest form in various instances of domestic violence. And he developed a nearly voracious appetite for drugs and alcohol, which led to his near-incineration in a freebasing accident in the early eighties (ever impatient, Pryor couldn't wait five more years until the dealers would do the freebasing for you and sell the product as crack).

Needless to say, Pryor and Hollywood had a strange approach/avoidance thing going until his disease made him unable to work. He wanted the money and exposure they offered. They craved his talent. But the compromises Hollywood demanded of a challenging talent like Pryor's were apparent. The famous image of Richard from his doomed TV series, dressed in an emasculating flesh-colored bodysuit, was the least of it.

In fact, beyond the concert films, Lady Sings the Blues, the criminally overlooked Blue Collar, and the early teamings with Gene Wilder, the body of Pryor's film work is loaded with disappointments and missed opportunities. Eddie Murphy's Harlem Nights squandered a once-in-a-lifetime comedy teaming (Murphy! Pryor! Redd Foxx! Della Reese! Um, Arsenio Hall?) with Murphy's narcissism and lack of aptitude. And the only reasonable excuse for movies like Superman III, and the excreable Toy, in which Pryor hired himself out as a slave to a rich White child, is the need for quick drug money.

Over the past decade, the few sightings of Pryor have been painful, probably to him as well as us. Confined to a wheelchair, his former manic energy gone, the spark in his eyes muted, his voice an uneasy rasp. I couldn't help but wonder what this man thought of the latest heir to his legacy, Dave Chappelle. What did Pryor think of a comedian who could say and do what he wanted on TV, with almost no restriction? And be phenomenally successful doing it? And what would Pryor think of Chappelle walking out on the show at its point of greatest cultural awareness? Regardless of Chappelle's reasons for leaving his show, I believe that Richard Pryor would have rode them out. He was not a man afraid of a challenge.

"I Will Be Playing Myself."

I'm a Black person. Pleased to meet you. My political affiliation is pretty easy to determine from my previous posts. I mention that only to prevent any confusion as I discuss a topic that I have a definite stake in: leadership in the Black community, or lack thereof. As for the quote above, well, you'll see.

There comes a time when any leader, regardless of color, decides that he is unable, or unwilling to lead, and, to put it in biblical terms, he has to lay his staff down. Like when LBJ, worn out by the failures in Vietnam, decided not to seek another term as President. Or when Al Gore, after the hard-fought 2000 Presidential Election, stepped away from politics into the private sector. Or when Jesse Jackson had a child out of wedlock.

Well, for Reverend Al Sharpton, his resignation took a different form. According to news reports, Rev. Al is working on a situation comedy pilot for CBS. Get this: It will be called "Al in the Family." And, according to the Rev, "I will be playing myself." I don't think anyone will argue with that.

I'm vexed by this, but not for the same reasons other people probably are. Out of last year's Democratic Presidential candidates, Sharpton alone impressed me with his feistiness, naturalism, and grace under pressure. In debates with drones like Lieberman, Kerry, etc., he frequently seemed like the only person on the dais with a pulse. And he brought focus to issues (like poverty and racism) that more "mainstream" candidates ignored, until Hurricane Katrina washed them up into our national consciousness, however briefly, this year. With Bush apparently dying a slow death from self-inflicted wounds, why step out of the fray now?

The answer is pretty simple: Nobody is gonna vote for Al Sharpton. Not Black folks, and certainly not White folks. All White folks know about him is the Tawana Brawley debacle. All Black folks know about him is the jogging suits and the conked-up hair. And the media! Sharpton rocked the house at the Democratic Convention last year, summoning up images of the Civil Rights era, and NBC's Chris Matthews dismissed the speech as "riffing" on something or other.

So with prospects of extending his leadership role into a paying job limited... Well, that showbiz, she is a seductive bitch. Stories floated last year about a reality show for Sharpton, but he apparently held out for the scripted show. Good move, Rev. Martha Stewart and Fox have killed reality shows.

I can't help but wonder though, if this might be a new opportunity opening up, maybe for a sitcom star to take Sharpton's place. Keisha Knight-Pulliam's grown, college-educated, and quite fetching, I understand. Or maybe Urkel's finally finished with the awkward growth spurts. Gary Coleman, a waiting nation turns its eyes to you!

UPDATE: As it turns out, Al Sharpton won't be starring in a sitcom, after all.

In a statement last week, Sharpton stated (paraphrase): "I don't want to be Carroll O'Connor. I'd rather be George Bush." Funny, I thought he had higher aspirations than that.

And he's still doing commercials for that seedy short-term loan company, just in case anybody thinks he's taking the high road...