Andy Kaufman’s Midnight Special

Andy Kaufman’s Midnight Special (1981)

October 8, 2004

DVD, Somerville, Massachusetts

**** / ****

Being born in 1977, I am a bit young to know of Andy Kaufman during his time. I have foggy memories of bits and pieces of his Latka character from Taxi, but beyond that, I know little of the persona and performances that continue to make him a curiosity twenty years after his death. With the 1999 Jim Carrey movie Man on the Moon, based on Kaufman’s life, I was introduced to the legend via proxy. The movie piqued my interest, but still, with so little original footage of the man in action available, I was hardly able to really piece together the enigma. Andy Kaufman’s Midnight Special, a live variety show performance from 1981, is my long awaited initiation into the bizarre, childlike world of the master.

Nothing could prepare me for Andy Kaufman live. Not Jim Carrey’s manic movie performance. Not the scores of comics who continue to praise him. Not the pictures and articles about how Andy disrupted television programs, caused fights at his wrestling performances, and was almost completely blacklisted from Hollywood for his outlandish guerilla comedy techniques. Sitting comfortably in my home watching Andy morph in and out of “foreign man”, “Elvis”, “Tony Clifton”, his woman wrestling tyrant, his ventriloquism routine, and as a mesmerized bystander to some of his musical heroes (Slim Whitman and Jim Cannon) as they performed with and in front of him, I was totally entranced by Kaufman. He was doing something I rarely see these days in entertainment: having fun. Through his enthusiasm, I became enthusiastic, and felt enraptured in the fun he was sharing with his audience. It is rare, even today, to find entertainers who have such a bond with their audience, who transcend the status of star and somehow feel like they are one of us, even as their genius is utterly apparent and beyond us. Kaufman is an entertainer unlike any I have seen before.

Rather than turn to vulgarity as so many contemporary entertainers do, Kaufman regresses into childhood. He entertains both himself and his audience by making up stories and fully becoming his characters. Kaufman doesn’t rely on jokes and punchlines, but rather, creates a mood through his zaniness and childlike wonder. While someone like Jim Carrey or Robin Williams always seem to be trying to impress an audience, Kaufman is at ease when he performs, content merely to bring a smile to his own face. As I watched him flagellate around the stage singing “It’s a Small World” to the beat of his bongo playing band, I felt touched in a way I rarely do when I laugh as an adult. Andy Kaufman reminded me of a time when I laughed because I was happy, innocent, and free, and not merely because it was a diversion or some ironic quip that belittled someone or something else. Andy Kaufman may not be for everyone, but for me, Andy’s perormance struck a nerve returning me to the innocent enjoyments of childhood. Simply put, Andy Kaufman’s Midnight Special was the perfect way to finally meet someone whose legend had been built up in my mind for decades. And happily, Andy lived up to his legend and then some.