Photo by Warner Brothers/Getty Images
|
Gilda Radner
By Stacy Horn, originally published in AARP's My Generation
She created hilarious misfits who thought and hoped and hurt the way we did
|
GILDA RADNER WAS LAUGH-UNTIL-YOUR-STOMACH-HURTS FUNNY, BUT HER MOST TRANSCENDENT WORK EMPLOYED THE KIND OF HUMOR THAT DOESN'T ALWAYS MAKE YOU LAUGH OUT LOUD. It was so real and on the mark, so funny and inescapably sad at the same time, that sometimes you could only smile in wordless appreciation.
The entire range from horror to humor is there in practically every character Radner created. Lisa Loopner's nerdy and hopeful acceptance of Todd's endless indignities, the manic Judy Miller beating up her dolls—a lifetime of pain communicated in seconds. Radner had plenty to draw from: a childhood weight problem, a beloved father who died of brain cancer while Radner was in her teens and enduring the psychological damage of dateless Saturday nights, which in the late '50s/early '60s meant everything.
Her characters always seemed to smile a what-are-you-going-to-do smile, though. "Someday Todd will appreciate me," you can imagine Lisa Loopner thinking. They may have been fragile, vulnerable and hurt, but they were happy and hanging in there.
It wasn't just her honesty. Her acceptance of, and genuine affection for, her collection of goofball characters was crucial, whether it was Roseanne Roseannadanna, the punk rocker Candy Slice or spaz-child, Judy Miller. Radner was the Diane Arbus of comedy. She loved all her geek queens. And we loved her the way the '50s loved Lucy and the '60s loved Carol Burnett.
Why did we love her so much back then? We were so young. The poignant truth of her comedy must only really be beginning to dawn on us now. Gilda Radner died of ovarian cancer in 1989. Why do we love her still? Because what's true is true and will remain true forever and, in Radner's hands, funny.
For details on Gilda's Club, which offers support to people living with cancer, call 917-305-1200 or go to www.gildasclub.org.
|
