Lenny (1974)
“The point — the point is the suppression of words. Now, dig.”
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Response to Peary’s Review: I’m not quite in agreement with all of Peary’s points. While the film is indeed depressing, I don’t find it overlong, and wasn’t particularly struck by a dearth of funny routines. Bruce’s audience laughs plenty when they’re shocked by the language he uses, and that’s the primary focus of the film: Bruce’s controversial (!) belief that he should be allowed to use everyday profanity in his comedy. In fact, there’s ample humor as Bruce good-naturedly (albeit very pointedly) does his routine while cops line the walls, substituting “blah blah” for the actual swear words while still being completely understood by his audience; his point is extremely well taken. What I’m most disturbed by is Bruce’s treatment of Perrine, who’s simultaneously adored and demonized for her sexuality (what else is new?). With that said, Barry’s screenplay neatly shows how Bruce’s rightful indignation ultimately consumed his life; it’s sad seeing his obsession with his court cases taking over his routines (and, of course, seeing his drug-induced ramble in a final performance). There may have been many complicated reasons leading to Bruce’s premature death by overdose, but at least here we’re clearly shown how the mutually reinforcing demons of addiction and hopelessness played pivotal roles. Redeeming Qualities and Moments:
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