The role of
a Black comedian today
is not the same of yesterday.
Your role is bigger
than being funny.
Do not sh**t!
These times are
times I've only read about.
Race relations in America are
a complete f*cking sh*t show.
Jews will not replace us!
Black people are in the middle
of actively trying to figure out
what the f*ck is going on.
And as a Black comedian, you
want to be the person who goes,
"Let me help you figure out
what the f*ck is going on."
Nazis are out!
They out without hoods
getting haircuts!
What's happening in the world
right now,
the information, the truth,
has become like a religion.
It's splintered off
into little groups,
and none of it
makes sense anymore.
Black comedians always
have been and always will be
the last truth tellers.
Why do Black people always have
to get over sh*t so quickly?
sl*very...
"Oh, that was 400 years ago."
Police sh**ting...
"Ah, that was two weeks.
Come on. You still... still?"
911... "Oh, never forget."
That's our job... to tell
the truth that we all see
that's right in front of us.
That's why people trust us.
Some people say young Black men
are an endangered species.
But that's not true
'cause endangered species
are protected by the government.
Our world is different.
My world is different.
I try to speak comedy
to the politics
of what's going on right now.
This man kneeled on a man's neck
for 8 minutes and 46 seconds!
Can you imagine that?
It's a huge collective moment.
As a comedian, it'd be
a very, very difficult thing
not to talk about.
Black comedians
have become critics
of the American
social structure.
And it's always been the case
throughout history.
Baseball... that is the only
sport in the world
where a n*gro can shake a stick
at a white man
and won't start no riot.
That's always been our thing,
to talk about things
that was happening to us,
to talk about oppression
and poverty
and segregation and integration.
I mean, they accidentally
sh**t more n*gg*r*s out here
than any place in the world.
How do you accidentally sh**t
a n*gg*r six times in the chest?
They're like, "Well, my g*n fell
and just went crazy."
They did it joke by joke.
They built an infrastructure
of resistance.
And it's extremely important
to know that truth,
because then you begin to see,
oh, I was missing it all along.
I have an education.
I got a PhD
I can't do sh*t with, you know?
So I stay high
so I don't get mad.
Every gesture onstage,
every sound, has a history.
Things that are possible now
are possible
because they were impossible before
and people took on that
impossibility and stretched it.
How that happened
is an important story to tell,
and I believe that that's what
you're trying to do here.
There's always this
conversation about comedy.
Is it funny if you offend
your audience? Is it risky?
Comedy, when it's done right...
It doesn't ask for permission.
It's unflinching.
I am going to
make it my business
to speak as freely as I want to.
Always have the right to offend.
A comic has a right to offend
the moment we hit the stage.
"How many times you get
in trouble
for talking the way you talk?"
I say probably all the time,
but I don't give a f*ck.
People, whether
we like it or not,
are controlled by nature.
If you put a tight shoe
on your foot, you get a corn.
If you wear a shoe long enough,
it turns into a callus.
If you wear the shoe long
enough, it turns into a bunion.
Eventually it'll wear
the shoe out.
Black folks in America
got a callus around their soul,
and if this system
don't back up,
the shoe is gonna be wore out.
A free man is a man
with no fear.
And when white folks fear me
marrying their daughter,
eating in their restaurants,
going to their schools,
he is my sl*ve
by the laws of nature,
whether he like it or not.
And if we don't make massive
changes, this country is doomed.
When the civil rights movement,
you know,
is in full swing in the 1960s,
there's no one Black comedian
that's more important
than d*ck Gregory.
If y'all ever march on me,
I ain't gonna throw
no tear gas on.
I'm gonna pray for you.
And I'm not gonna let you know
what I'm praying for.
He was the highest-paid
entertainer, Black or white,
in America.
He was the hottest comedian
in the country.
He gave it all up
for the civil rights objective.
He, like, marched with those
guys and bled with those guys
and got his a*s whupped
with those guys.
So it wasn't just about
somebody canceling you
or saying evil sh*t on Twitter.
These things had real stakes.
The guy is really
walking the walk.
He's doing this before anybody.
His path was more difficult
than for most comedians.
My father was born in 1932
in St. Louis, Missouri.
My father was an incredible
athlete at Sumner High School.
He was an accidental activist
when he broke the mile record
and he realized it didn't count
because they didn't keep records
on Black high school athletes.
He was outraged
and he was marching down
to City Hall Board of Education.
Well, there just so happened
to be a NAACP march
that was happening
at the same time.
He was so animated,
because he always is,
the press picked up on him.
Next day all over
the newspaper was, you know,
this senior in high school
that was, you know,
Brother d*ck out there
for the people.
This was just setting the stage
for the transformational role
that our father played,
not just in entertainment,
but in life.
In 1958, I walked into
a nightclub for the first time
in my life to see a show,
and I was sitting there.
This is when I first decided
that I wanted to go
into show business.
He was an impoverished,
young Black man
who'd never had nightlife before,
but he was always comfortable
in front of people,
and he was
just incredibly funny.
Two weeks later,
I was working in a nightclub.
I have a daughter,
three years old.
Christmas Eve, I said,
"Michele, go to bed, honey.
Get ready for Santa Claus."
"I don't believe in
Santa Claus."
Three years old.
"What do you mean? Why?"
She said, "You know well
ain't no white man coming
in our neighborhood
after midnight."
d*ck Gregory heralds
the new era of standup comedy.
For the most part,
standup comedy was a bunch
of jokes
that people sort of borrowed
or stole from each other.
And so d*ck Gregory becomes
a part of a school of comedy
that becomes... where they call
them monologists,
or it becomes about,
"I'm gonna stand on stage
and I'm gonna tell you a story,
I'm gonna talk about myself,
I'm gonna talk about the world.
And I actually want you
to get to know me."
My son walked up to me
not too long ago.
He said, "Daddy,
I'ma run away from home.
Call me a cab."
Early on, he was working
kind of the B-tier clubs
in South Chicago,
but he always hungered
for a bigger audience.
He wanted to be
universally funny.
During that time,
you were starting to see
bigger, more integrated clubs.
The country was changing,
and that's when he realized
that his material
needed to be broader.
And where he pivoted
was to news.
He became obsessed with reading
newspapers, just obsessed.
There's one area in the South
that received
about eight inches of snow.
I had a cousin down there
that almost got hurt.
He thought he was leaning up
against a snow bank,
and it turned out to be
a Ku Klux Klan rally.
As a comedian,
he was really looking at
the civil rights movement,
because that was so relevant
and encapsulated everything
that people were feeling,
the frustration.
But d*ck Gregory was doing this
in the heat of the moment
in one of the most dangerous
environments in our history.
You think about, like,
the pressure
that these guys were under
in civil rights and everything,
just to be funny at a time
where nothing was funny
if you're Black.
Most people don't have that kind
of confidence,
but d*ck Gregory did.
You can always
laugh at problems.
Everyone in the whole world
knows this is wrong.
So then you can make humor
out of it and matter like
you're enlightening people
on just what's going on.
That was a funny,
smooth gift he had.
He used his intellect, but he
still hit you in the mouth.
When Negroes in Chicago
move into one large area
and it look like
we might control the votes,
they don't say anything to us.
They have a slum clearance.
d*ck Gregory always had
the capacity to disarm people.
You know, his great
breakthrough moment
when he's still struggling
as a comedian...
He gets the chance to fill in
at The Playboy Club.
This was the first Playboy Club
in the country.
It was just sort of
the talk of the town.
"Professor" Irwin Corey,
who was a big comic back then,
was supposed to be at
The Playboy Club.
He got sick.
Irwin Corey was a hip guy,
so he recommended d*ck Gregory
for The Playboy Club,
and Hugh Hefner and "Playboy"
were already interested
in the civil rights movement.
You know, he said, Sure,
let's give him a shot."
There was a huge snowstorm
that evening in Chicago,
and apparently they were
phoning d*ck Gregory at home
not to come after all.
They were gonna cancel
the comedian that night
because it was all
white business owners
from the Deep South
in the audience that night.
This is one of the first times
that he really encounters
a r*cist white crowd
in a substantial way.
And that was a huge test
for him.
So when I get called down here
to The Playboy Club,
I get on the bus,
and I get off at the wrong stop,
and it's a blizzard.
And I'm running and I'm slipping
and I'm sliding,
and about eight blocks away
in the blizzard,
I see this huge sign that says
"Playboy."
And I'm praying, "Thank God."
And I run up on stage.
I didn't know at the time
that a n*gro
is not permitted
to work a white nightclub.
All these white Southern
frozen food
executives are there.
And he's like, "Okay, well, what
the hell am I gonna do now?"
Right? And he found a way
to tell stories
that got them to laugh.
To stand in front of a group
of Southern white men
and make jokes
about the Ku Klux Klan...
I mean, this is, like,
a next level.
d*ck Gregory knew
how to talk to white people
in a language they understood.
And he also presented a way
that he was like,
"I'm not afraid of you,"
at a time when Black folks legitimately
maybe should be afraid
of every white person they saw.
I was honest.
I wasn't disrespectful.
I wasn't mean.
I wasn't bitter.
From that,
Hefner brought me back
for two weeks.
That was the first time
that a n*gro comedian
had been booked
in a white nightclub.
The thing about the trajectory
of Black comedy
is that Black comedic genius
prior to d*ck Gregory
had to perform
within the confines
that white America
presented them.
Black comedy begins in the U.S.
in the 19th century
with the blackface minstrel stage.
Minstrelsy featured white people
imitating Black people
with blackface.
It was this universally
dehumanizing, hateful form.
But then towards
the later period of minstrelsy,
it becomes a way
for African Americans
to get on the stage.
And some Black performers
did quite remarkable things,
opening up different
kind of possibilities.
For example, Bert Williams
became incredibly successful
on Broadway and in film
playing the servile
lackadaisical character,
but in ways that everyone
could consider human.
He was absolutely committed
to never being reduced
to a caricature.
Another example is Charlie Case.
Charlie Case
was mostly a singer.
But he was a genius
at telling stories.
Back then,
they weren't really comedians.
They didn't exist yet, right?
Entertainers would sing
a little bit
and they would dance
with the band.
He started, like,
forgetting about
the song and the dance part
because everybody wanted
to hear him talk.
He took off the costumes.
He washed off the blackface.
He's like, "I'm not gonna
do that anymore."
He used his arms a lot,
and he would deliver the joke
with something like a punch.
That part of a joke
became known as the punch line
because of Charlie Case.
He's the man who started
standup comedy,
and I always mist up
thinking about it because,
wow, we invented that.
In the 1920s, you have Jim Crow.
You have segregation.
So a majority of the comedians
in that era of Black comedians
perform the Chitlin' Circuit.
The Chitlin' Circuit were
these clubs and spaces
across the country
where Black folks performed
largely for
segregated audiences.
Many great performers
got their start
working in the Chitlin' Circuit,
performers like Moms Mabley.
She was a young comic
dressed like a old woman.
You're gonna have to
laugh a little louder.
Mom can't hear ya.
She's one of the first
Black women
to do standup comedy ever.
But a lot of acts
on the Chitlin' Circuit
were denied mainstream success
or even exposure until the '60s.
Crossover wasn't being done.
The 1930 was one of the most
difficult periods
for Black comedians.
First of all,
you had "Amos 'n' Andy,"
two white guys doing blackface
and dialect.
Well, the whole thing
is very charming.
Uh, don't forget, though,
brother Andy,
we is all brothers
in that great fraternity.
Black audiences back then
was repulsed by it,
but it was the most important
radio show on air at that time.
And this becomes the way
in which white people
want to see Black people behave.
Why, then, you tell him
he ain't, ya hear?
Yes, sir.
Black people hated
Stepin Fetchit,
'cause they felt like he was
perpetuating a stereotype...
Dumb, lazy, slow,
all these things.
This was popular culture.
Stepin Fetchit would be
the first Black person
in Hollywood to make $1 million.
This was really hard
on a lot of comedians
because they had to conform
to the lazy, shuffling
Stepin Fetchit thing,
or you didn't work at all.
And that went on
for at least 20 years.
The 1950s, it's the emergence
of the civil rights movement.
So there's a lot of pressure
on American society
to open up the space.
Black comedians said,
"No, I don't want to do
that blackface dialect anymore."
So Slappy White, Redd Foxx,
Nipsey Russell...
This new generation
of Black comedians
started to perform
as themselves on stage.
He had a girl for me
was so ugly,
he stuck her head out the door
and they arrested her
for indecent exposure.
You didn't have to be
a comedic actor,
which is what Stepin Fetchit was.
By the time d*ck Gregory
comes along,
you could be a Black comedian
that talks to an audience.
But it was still very rare
for a Black comedian
to perform for a white audience.
And then d*ck Gregory comes
along and everything changed.
Post-Playboy Club,
things were moving fast.
"The Tonight Show" called.
- Here's Jack.
- And away we go.
I mean, that would be
the equivalent of,
you know, Jimmy Fallon
or somebody calling you now,
or even bigger than that.
But when Jack Paar calls,
d*ck Gregory,
ever the agitator, says,
"I'm not going on your show
because you never let a n*gro
sit down on the couch
next to you
and have a conversation
with them."
He said Jack kind of
thought about it,
was quiet for a moment,
and he said,
"Well, by all means."
He was like, "Of course you can
sit on the couch."
And here he is... d*ck Gregory.
I'd like to say
thank you very much.
And when they say this
show features living color,
you better believe it.
Oh, you're good audience tonight
and treat me nice
because with President Kennedy's
new housing deal,
I might be your neighbor now.
So d*ck Gregory did the show.
And after he did his standup,
it was history.
What kind of car you got?
- A Lincoln, naturally.
- Oh, well, that's...
That's the least you could do.
- That's right. That's for sure.
This is where comedy is amazing.
For the most part, the Black
voice wasn't recognized
until d*ck Gregory made it okay
for a Black standup to be on TV.
That was a huge leap. I mean,
that was like Jackie Robinson.
NBC had reported
that their phone lines crashed
because so many white folks
were calling to say,
"I didn't know Black folks
had the same type of problem.
I didn't know they had the same
type of issues with their kids."
It was a game changer
because at this moment,
Black folks are no longer
just the entertainment.
They have something
to contribute
to the social discourse
that's happening in the country.
I mean, his trajectory,
you know,
it was just like a rocket.
- d*ck Gregory.
- d*ck Gregory.
- d*ck Gregory.
- d*ck Gregory.
He was making $5,000 a night.
He was making
tons of tons of money.
This was more
than Frank Sinatra.
He becomes this bridge
as a comedian.
He's a bridge between
Black America and white America,
right?
d*ck Gregory came
at the exact right time.
Black people waited a long time,
and it gave a lot of people
permission to be themselves.
You're not a party member,
are you?
Uh, party? The NAACP,
or what you mean?
It was about a year or so
at that level of success
and stardom
before injustice came calling
and he pivoted.
d*ck Gregory was
a pioneering figure
because he took social activism
so seriously,
he became a social activist,
and he did it
really at the height.
Go this way! Come on!
Come on, y'all! Let's go!
Let's go!
Mississippi back during
the 1960s
was really ground zero
for the civil rights movement.
Why do you feel that it is
important for Negroes to vote?
We have police brutality galore.
We have bad roads.
We have a number of things
that we don't get
simply because Negroes
do not vote.
When d*ck Gregory got the call
from Medgar Evers
to come down there and speak
at voter registration rallies,
he really didn't want
to do that at first.
By the time my plane
was supposed to take off
at 8:15 that morning,
I had talked myself out of it
because I was afraid.
Here, this man is living
a comfortable life,
watching these horrifying things
happen on television.
He was terrified,
because he expressed that.
I mean, you know, batons, beatings,
dogs, fire hoses,
people going missing.
As I laid in my hotel room,
I realized I had to get involved
in this great struggle
in the South.
If you look at footage
of that first march,
he very uncomfortably
is holding an older woman
that he's walking with,
and it almost seems like
he's helping to steady her.
But when you look at him,
you can see he's like
a deer in headlights.
His plan was to speak and
he was flying right back out.
Anyone fail to move on
will be arrested.
- Don't move.
- Move on back!
Move back!
- Don't put your hands on me.
When he got down there
and saw the faces
and these people
trying to organize
and get the right to vote,
he was just inspired by that.
That was the first time
in his mind he said,
"There's no way I can leave.
I can't turn my back or turn
and run on these folks."
d*ck Gregory was coming up
in a time where,
politically,
it was a lot going on.
And I think we're going back
to that now.
We can't run away
from what the world is.
In our recent troubled times,
you have social critics
like Dave Chappelle and Chris
who talk about all of
what's going on in society
and politics and everything.
d*ck Gregory was the anchor
and the foundation
of what you see now.
He might be
the first Black comedian
to purposely make people uncomfortable.
And it was very daring
at the time, right?
Still is.
This is a Black man talking
about being Black in America.
He didn't apologize
for what he had to say.
What do you think's ultimately
going to happen
to this drive
to get registrations?
We will register
and we will vote.
It's a matter now of how long
the federal government's
gonna let it go on.
They can take it 100 years,
or they can do it tomorrow.
His time on the ground...
It set d*ck Gregory
on a different trajectory.
After Mississippi,
he kept working.
Let's make him feel at home.
Mr. d*ck Gregory... here he is.
Cold weather makes it very nice
for race relations.
Last month when it was
15 below zero in Chicago,
I walked out of a nightclub.
A drunk walked up to me
and said,
"Why don't you get back to
Africa where you belong
and take me with you?"
And so here you have
this larger-than-life
entertainer, d*ck Gregory.
Everyone's booking him.
He's booked six months out.
Thank you very much,
but never clap for me.
Just take me to lunch
when it's not Brotherhood Week.
He almost became ashamed
of being an entertainer
at that point.
He had a moment of, like,
"Am I a comedian
who occasionally does activism,
or am I an activist
who occasionally does comedy?"
d*ck Gregory knew he was living
through an era
where, like,
"I gotta make a stand."
You have to be more
than just an entertainer,
more than just
a top-name entertainer.
You have to have a feeling
and a conviction,
a care not to worry first about
how this is gonna affect
your career.
Just, I must be a part of it.
There was a larger calling,
and that calling was knocking
on his door at that moment.
These are the front lines
of the battle
between Dr. Martin Luther King's
n*gro disciples of nonviolence
and the uniformed forces
of Birmingham,
led by Commissioner
Eugene "Bull" Connor, who says,
"We weren't trying
to be nice to them,
but they won't let us be."
After one particular
horrible protest,
he gave a speech at a church,
and it was really a set.
We watching you real close,
New York City's watching you
real close,
Chicago's watching you
real close,
because you just might break
those shackles off our legs.
He was consistently using
his own celebrity
as a way of drawing attention
to the civil rights struggle.
Maybe I shouldn't say legs.
I take that back.
Abraham Lincoln got the shackles
off our legs.
You might get the shackles
off our minds.
And this was the first time, really,
that we see d*ck Gregory
as the activist.
d*ck Gregory,
one of the acknowledged
leaders of his people,
has been arrested
and flung into jail himself.
The first real beating
he ever got
was in that jail cell
in Birmingham.
That's when he really started
to identify himself as,
"I'm an activist first,
you know,
humanitarian, and entertainer."
The message became more
about activism than laughing.
I am gonna fight till this
system comes down to her knees.
It's very interesting.
d*ck Gregory had many critics,
especially when he started to
march with Martin Luther King.
His fellow comics say
his dedication
has blunted his humor,
that he's lost
his sense of satire,
that he's now more angry
than funny.
This I go along with.
This is probably true.
And so that's when he started
missing gigs.
It was a challenging time.
He had a team around him...
I mean, his management,
his schedulers, his attorneys.
His career,
you can say, suffered,
but I think he chose that.
It was a price he wanted to pay.
And I'm very confused this year
because I never thought
I'd see the day
I would give out more
fingerprints and autographs.
There was consequence.
But the idea of, "I choose
to make a stand,
and that stand is to stand on
what I feel is right,
and if things have to be
taking away or go away
because of that,
then so be it"...
That's a powerful thing.
So when d*ck Gregory
moved to the side
and became more of an activist,
it left that void there.
All these comedians who never
worked for a white audience
before...
Redd Foxx, Godfrey Cambridge,
Nipsey Russell, Moms Mabley...
They're all getting booked
by white nightclubs
and all being put on TV.
I'm awful glad to meet you.
I'm awful glad to meet you, too.
It's marvelous to have you here.
A lot of this is timing.
And here we go. Rolling sound.
Play!
In the '60s,
television is expanding.
You have these talk shows...
Jack Paar's show,
Merv Griffin, and others...
Which are very much rooted
in comedy.
So that offered the opportunity
for Black comedians
to participate in this space.
- Ah!
- You know something, Godfrey,
that is an impressive name...
Godfrey Cambridge.
What do your friends
call you for short?
God, which is...
Like d*ck Gregory,
they were expected
to tell jokes,
but also expected to provide
some context
for what was going on
in the country
socially and politically.
They always talk about
n*gro crime rate,
and basically I feel
that Negroes are doing
all right in violent crimes.
But what I want to do
is instruct my n*gro brothers
that they must move
into nonviolent crime
where all the white people are,
because that's where
the money is, you see.
Never have you seen a n*gro
convicted of embezzling
$5 million from a savings
and loan association,
running off to South America.
Yet white people are doing it
so often
that Pan-Am had to add
30 extra flights.
They were edgy,
they were political,
and they had a vision
of a better world.
And they honestly believed,
rightfully so,
that they could get to that
better place through laughter.
I've been offered a role
in a picture.
A Western... all-n*gro Western.
Really?
Yes. I don't know if I'm gonna
to take it, though,
because I knew if it was
a all-n*gro Western,
gonna be the first time
the Indians won.
All of these Black comedians
found their place
in the mainstream.
And at the same time,
early '60s,
there was a big
comedy record boom.
Many comedians made their first
fame on records,
a new medium for comics.
They're Mort Saul, d*ck Gregory.
And a host of others.
This is the postwar humor.
It is irreverent, biting,
deliberately controversial.
In the Black community,
you have what they called
at the time "party records."
What was important about
party records was
they were cultural touchstones.
So no matter where you were
in the country or in the world,
you could find out
Black people's sexual morés,
you could find out how they felt
about the government,
you could find out how they felt
about being Black in America.
Redd Foxx is kind of the king
of the party records.
This guy made 52 recordings.
What are party records?
You play them at a party.
You ever been to a party?
Put the records on
when it's kind of dull
and then wait.
- Yeah? Are they...
- The party starts.
- Naughty?
- Yes.
- Yeah.
Party records... that was
the dirty little secret, right?
The kids went to bed.
"Let's listen to Redd Foxx."
And everybody knew it,
but nobody would talk about it.
This stuff didn't get beyond
Black communities
because we were playing it
among ourselves.
We can't play this
where white people will hear it.
That's the...
That's the boundary.
I mean, as a young girl,
to hear this kind of language,
and it was nasty
and it was a lot of cursing.
And it just opened up this world
because all I heard
was laughter.
There's something about
the albums...
I just remember
my parents having in the house.
It was definitely
a defiant element that I loved.
We would just die
and just go crazy
just hearing the word "as*h*le,"
just hearing the...
That was a big word
back in the day.
He was a comedian of the people.
His popularity
gave Black comedians the license
to really tackle
lots of subject matter
that they hadn't before,
but also to free up
the language.
You know,
there's no Richard Pryor
without Redd Foxx,
and we can go down and look
at the lineage after that.
People like Redd Foxx
are responsible for
the change in narrative
and the change in operations.
Ultimately, I don't get to do
what I do if that didn't happen.
Now, I've been accused
of liking young men.
And I'm guilty.
And I'm gonna get guiltier.
Moms Mabley is very important
in this era.
When the color line
finally broke,
Moms Mabley became
extremely popular.
Moms Mabley was Loretta Aiken,
and she came
from North Carolina.
She came from a small town.
For years, she played
on the Chitlin' Circuit.
The main tenant of Moms
Mabley's act was,
"I am a man-hungry woman."
Then in the '60s,
she would start talking
about the racial situation
and going down South.
They like me down
that Delta route.
They like me to where
they named me Roy Rogers' horse.
- Trigger?
- Trigger, yeah.
- That's what they call you?
- Yeah!
Everybody go, "Hello, Trigger!
What you saying, Trigger?"
At least I think
that's what they're saying.
What she was saying
was relevant at the time.
She did talk about
race relationships.
She did talk about the governor.
What would you do
if you were president, Moms?
It wouldn't be like it is now.
She would come on
and disarm people immediately.
This woman who may or may not
have had her teeth in,
who may or may not have
had a bra on... in that way,
she gave you commentary
in a subversive way
that's always
gonna make you laugh.
Did you see Whitey bringing me
up here?
Some of the things she said
were also against patriarchy
and the status quo.
And, you know, she talked about
female sexuality
in a way that
nobody else talked about.
Oh, the first husband, though...
You told me you had him cremated.
Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
I burn him up.
- Why would you do that?
- Well, I determined
he was gonna get hot one time, anyhow.
Moms Mabley is so important.
She dressed like an old woman,
and be able to talk sexual
and to talk about
what women went through...
I owe my career to Moms Mabley.
One of the great ironies
is that Moms is a character.
She's, in a sense,
a character comedian
because she was, like, a l*sbian
and she kind of lived that life.
When she was on stage,
she was playing the role
of Moms.
When she got offstage,
she was Mister Moms,
and it wasn't hidden.
After I found out Moms was g*y,
my biggest regret is that
I didn't get to hang with Moms
cruising for women.
That would have been the sh*t.
Me and Moms, hat c*ck.
"Hey, baby,
how you doin'?"
Moms broke all conventions.
She was that first
mainstream female comic,
and male comics
followed her example.
Black comics in the '60s
were a very complimentary group
doing political
and social comedy.
But there was this one guy who.
That wasn't really his thing.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Bill Cosby.
The artist formerly known
as Bill Cosby
was certainly one of
my favorite comedians.
I remember growing up
and being affected by
the good art he put in the world
and by the example
that I thought he was setting.
And then you hear about
all the awful,
and I gotta deal with all of it,
all the assaults
and all the accusations.
Yeah, I mean, Bill Cosby
was a real heartbreaker,
but I cut him out of my heart, man.
He's gone.
I'm not defending
what Bill Cosby did.
And, you know, karma is a b*tch.
But I'm still not
going to dismiss
what he gave to Black people.
I hated all of that sh*t,
but to deny his place...
There's no Barack Obama
without Bill Cosby.
He set the table
for people being able to see us
as people who cared,
as Americans.
I'm not gonna have
coffee with the m*therf*cker,
but he...
I mean, I would be safe, but...
Bill Cosby came to prominence
in the coffeehouses
of Greenwich Village,
performing for
a college-educated crowd.
Bill went to Temple University,
one of the first college
graduates as a Black comedian.
Believe it or not,
Cosby actually started out
doing d*ck Gregory-type
material.
In the summer of 1962 was...
First review
in "The New York Times"
was about
that he was talking about race.
But somebody gave him
a challenge once and said,
"If it wasn't for race,
which was a crutch,
you couldn't even do comedy.
You'd have nothing
to talk about."
He took that as a challenge,
and for the next 40 to 50 years,
Bill Cosby
did not speak about race.
He developed a family-friendly,
more college-educated humor.
He approached it more...
Not everybody's into politics,
but everybody has a family.
And that was what
Bill Cosby tapped into.
At the same time,
the civil rights era
is in full swing.
A lot of Black performers,
a lot of Black athletes
and entertainers,
are lending their visibility
to the movement, as it were.
What did you discuss
back in the hotel room?
Nothing. We're just friends,
just like Khrushchev and Kennedy.
That just goes to show you
if you try...
that Black and white
can live together.
During the civil rights era,
Bill Cosby walked a very,
very thin tightrope.
I played a lot of football.
I played when I was
in the service.
We played different teams.
We played a prison team.
And... no, really,
prison team's a gas.
They got the greatest football
players in the world,
mostly because
they have nothing to lose.
I don't think Black folks
generally, at that time,
really had beef with Cosby.
I think that, like,
he really brought Black comedy
to the mainstream public.
White America didn't look at him
as being Black as much as,
he's one of those okay Blacks.
You know, he's acceptable.
We can have him over for dinner.
The phrase you always heard
in white show business
in those days was
"non-threatening."
He's "non-threatening."
Because he was
"non-threatening,"
he got a lot more work.
A promising comedian
who has kept every promise...
Bill Cosby.
Besides performing,
he's currently taking history
and philosophy...
Mr. Bill Cosby.
No standup comedian
got more press,
more attention at the time
than Bill Cosby.
Cosby was showing everybody
how to do it,
but it was a safe way,
and it was the way
to get accepted.
It was good,
you know what I mean?
You gotta knock the wall down
some kind of way.
You can always tell
when your parents
are taking you someplace
that's not gonna be nice
'cause they keep saying,
"Go ahead.
You'll be all right.
Go ahead."
"Where we going?!"
"Go ahead, you'll be..."
"Are we gonna get
a little vaccination?"
"No, you'll be all right.
Go ahead."
Within a little over a year,
he is on "The Tonight Show"
and he has a record deal...
Again, part of
this record craze.
And that record gets nominated
for a Grammy.
And then he has that show
"I Spy,"
where he played
a Rhodes Scholar.
I don't know what kind
of scholars there are,
but I know Rhodes
is one of the best one, right?
Yeah. But the trouble is,
the seller of the secret
will turn around
and sell your secret
to the guy whose secret he sold
when he sold the secrets
after he sold them.
That's radical,
and I think that was his point.
It was just like,
"Look, we're just a human being.
We're so far away now
from what Stepin Fetchit
and Mantan Moreland
had to do to work
in show business."
A racial joke today...
I don't want to tell it
to white people.
And I don't want white people
telling jokes
about Black people to me,
because today they're not funny,
you see?
It's the times that make
the difference.
It happens to be with the times.
At the time, what Bill Cosby
did for us
was to show
the universal character
of Black comedy to begin with.
People all the time go to movies
that have no Black characters
and laugh.
They identify,
"Oh, my God, she's..."
A romantic comedy ain't got no
Black people anywhere in sight,
but we identify.
So why is it that the reverse
is not true?
When I was a kid,
I put my tooth under a pillow,
and when I woke up,
I found an IOU.
There's no question in my mind
that Bill Cosby
was an important presence
in Black comedy.
But you know,
we have a history...
Redd Foxx, Moms Mabley,
d*ck Gregory...
Folks who had secured the bag
which gave them the freedom
to say whatever they wanted.
Bill Cosby had secured more bags
than any of them
and never translated that
into a forceful
political platform.
So, you know,
there's a void that's left.
Richard Pryor picks up
on that void, right,
and transforms that void.
A lot of people here
might be offended,
so you should leave now
'cause I'm gonna say
"f*ck" and "suck"...
and "sh*t" and "doo-doo."
I love when white dudes
get mad and cuss, right,
'cause y'all are some funny
m*therf*ckers when you cuss.
Right? They'll be saying sh*t like,
"Yeah, come on, peckerhead."
When you think about
the greatest Black comedians
there are only two people
really in that conversation...
d*ck Gregory and Richard Pryor.
Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord!
d*ck Gregory wins out
in some people's minds
because of the broader legacy.
But in terms of the comedy
piece, Richard...
He's the template for everybody
who comes after.
The only thing about
the public toilet is
if somebody recognized my a*s.
Be pissing, talking about,
"Richard Pryor!"
"Oh, sh*t, I'm sorry, bro.
Here, shake my hand."
Everybody is
a descendant of him.
There was comedy before Pryor
and after Pryor.
- I am!
- I am!
- Somebody!
- Somebody!
And he goes through
his own political
and social transformation,
and when he comes out
on the other side,
Richard is raw and political.
They stole the cream
of the crop from Africa
and brought them over here,
put us all together
called one tribe... n*gg*r*s.
His bravery as far as what he
was willing to talk about.
He was able to articulate
what he was feeling
on stage every night.
The pipe say,
"Come on in the room with me.
I got you covered.
I know how you feel, Rich.
I understand.
Just light me up,
hold me for a couple of days,
and we'll talk it over."
People were able
to connect with him
because they knew
he was telling the truth.
The greats do that.
Richard Pryor did that.
Richard Pryor was born
in Peoria, Illinois.
And his childhood
was extremely difficult.
We lived in a... I guess
you'd call it a brothel.
We called it a whorehouse.
But it was home to me.
- It was a...
Famous house of ill repute.
I mean, judges went there.
Police officers went.
Like, they were the house.
He saw his mother
working as a prost*tute
and having to sell herself
to white Johns.
But growing up in Peoria
also gave him
the kind of vein of raw material
that he would explore
for the rest of his life.
Pryor lands in Greenwich Village
in his early 20s
and finds his first home
on stage
at a place called the Cafe Wha?
- Oh, look at that.
- Richard Pryor!
I love that he's right
under Lenny Bruce
'cause they were both
so prolific for their era.
Bill Cosby. Funny.
- Yeah.
I come down here often
just to look at it.
- Right. Just to be like...
- You know, just to go inside
and get the feeling,
this is where Dad was at.
You know,
and he wasn't doing the humor
that he ended up doing, but...
What was he doing before?
- He was mimicking Bill Cosby.
- Right.
Yeah.
I noticed when I was young,
like, my people...
If they didn't want
to holler at you,
and make a funny move
with their body.
You ever had
your parents do this
if you're doing something wrong?
They look at you and go...
He ripped Cosby off
in presentation.
He wore the suit.
He did the Cosby movement
and the eye rolling up.
I get nervous when people
look at me like that.
He's imitating Bill Cosby
because that was the era
and what you did,
and the suit and the tie,
not aware of who he was
and the impact he could have.
But I tried to be a lot
of things when I was young.
And when I saw Bill Cosby work,
I used to be just like him...
You know, talk like him
and get mad
if people say something to me.
"Well, I know..."
And they say,
"You sound like Bill."
"No, I don't!"
I got my own personality, Jack.
Wowee."
And, um...
Now the comedy of Richard Pryor.
His career really
takes on new velocity
when he attracts the attention
of Ed Sullivan.
Medic! He wants to know
how much morphine
we have left aboard ship.
And this introduces him
to a huge new audience.
He appeared on Ed Sullivan,
Mike Douglas, Merv Griffin.
In 1966, he's lured out
to Hollywood by the offer
of being a regular on
the "Kraft Summer Music Hall."
And this is about
as straitlaced a production
as one could find at the time,
with a largely white audience.
I found that not only do they
use different voices...
Different voices?
Well, what are you mean, John?
And he's troubled by that.
And he started asking questions
about, "Who loves my act,
and why do they love my act?"
He was searching,
and he's actually doing
a lot of drugs at that time.
For Black men,
the pressure is always,
"How do I get these white folks
comfortable with me on stage?"
That was part of
what was happening to him.
He wasn't staying true
to himself.
You gotta go through so much
to get on that stage,
and when you finally do,
you gotta learn
how to maneuver correctly.
You start to get more confident
in being who you really are.
So it's not until the light bulb
goes off
that you realize
you can be yourself.
In 1967, he's starting
to get more gigs
in places like Las Vegas,
and he becomes a co-headliner
at the Aladdin Hotel.
One night he goes up on stage.
Saw a bunch of white tourists
and mumbled into the mic,
"What the f*ck am I doing here?"
and walked off.
That's the legend.
Runs into the gambling room,
strips down naked,
jumps on a Blackjack table,
and yells, "Blackjack!"
His own words to me was that,
Most of the audience
is white folks,
and I feel inauthentic."
Las Vegas is a drag
in the sense that
they always tell you,
"Well, Mr. Pryor,
we'd like for you...
If you just change that,"
you know, and that takes out
all your things.
So I'd rather be like...
Do where I'm accepted, you know?
Ooh, he got in trouble.
But that was like
a major breakthrough.
And he changed the game,
and he started saying things
that people hadn't heard before.
After he got fired in Las Vegas,
he felt a little bit liberated.
He starts performing
more and more
in underground venues
in Los Angeles.
One of the comedians
at that time
who had a major influence
on Richard Pryor
was Paul Mooney.
Paul Mooney was our father.
Paul Mooney, from the get-go,
was the roughest,
rawest dude ever.
When the Italians
came over here,
the Italians remained Italian.
Okay. Who else came over here?
Then the Germans came,
the Pollocks, whatever.
They all remained
what they were.
Now, I want you
to think about this.
Then they brought the sl*ves.
They were Africans,
but they didn't remain that.
Think about that.
They got other names.
Paul Mooney's one of my idols.
And Paul Mooney is
the master of,
"Boo if you like,
but you know I'm right."
And he only talks about race.
Not only was he a person
telling jokes,
he wanted to speak
truth to power.
Years before
he's a household name,
he was in this
traveling troupe called FTA,
f*ck the Army, with Jane Fonda
and Donald Sutherland.
It was an anti-w*r
sketch-comedy troupe
that toured Army bases
around America
with an anti-w*r message at
the height of the Vietnam w*r.
I mean, that's hard-core.
I think I'm gonna get me
a watchdog.
What do you need
a watchdog for, Sarge?
You're surrounded
by 250 armed men.
That's why I'm gonna get me
a watchdog.
Well, Paul Mooney
is so often credited
with co-writing
Richard Pryor's jokes.
Not only did he write for him,
he opened his eyes
to a whole 'nother world.
Paul Mooney gave Richard Pryor
the confidence to be radical,
be a person of integrity
on stage.
Paul Mooney was always that,
and he encouraged Richard
to do the same.
So after that, Richard moves
up to Berkeley.
That is where you're gonna go
to get your your grounding,
your initiation.
That's powerful.
He comes to Berkeley
as one kind of comedian.
And then he left Berkeley
as a very different
kind of comedian,
the kind of path-breaking,
no-holds-barred comedian
that we know.
Richard Pryor,
arrives at Berkeley
at a very intense time
of the kind of radicalization
of American protest.
The Berkeley City Council
declared Friday
a day of mourning
for what's happening in Vietnam.
Berkeley is the hive
of campus unrest,
the antiwar movement.
It was a very pivotal time
for Black leaders.
The Oakland Black Panthers
are arguably
the most famous chapter of the
Panthers in America at the time.
With all the Panther power,
we will greet you!
We will acknowledge you!
You know, you could not be
Black in America
and not be hypnotized
by the Huey Newtons
and the Bobby Seales.
And Richard Pryor, I think,
was affected by all of that.
So while Richard
was in Berkeley,
he had cohosted a show on KPFA,
and he goes on air just after
the Attica prison rebellion
has happened.
It's been put down brutally.
So many prisoners
have been k*lled in g*nf*re.
The town, Atticus...
2,800 white citizens.
The industry is people's misery.
They didn't care.
Just k*lled as many
as they could.
And it ain't cool,
'cause I know every n*gg*r
knows what happens.
That people
don't really care about it.
That's powerful. That statement
in itself is like,
"This is an authentic
Richard Pryor, so f*ck you.
Now I'm gonna rage
against the machine."
Richard Pryor,
when he reemerges in the '70s,
is a Black Power comedian.
- I am!
- I am!
- Somebody!
- Somebody!
- I am!
- I am!
- Black!
- Black!
- Beautiful!
- Beautiful!
- Wild!
- California is a weird state
because they have laws
for pedestrians,
but they don't have laws
for people at night
when cops accidentally
sh**t people.
I mean, they accidentally
sh**t more n*gg*r*s out here
than in any place in the world.
Every time you pick up a paper,
"n*gg*r accidentally shot
in the a*s."
How do you accidentally sh**t
a n*gg*r six times in the chest?
They're like, "Well, my g*n fell
and just went crazy."
The way he speaks is the way
that people speak in the street.
He uses the word "n*gg*r."
This hadn't been done before.
When Richard Pryor started
releasing language
that others hadn't done
so fluently or so eloquently,
he showed you the Black
experience without apology.
They stole the cream
of the crop from Africa
and brought them over here.
And God, as they say,
works in mysterious ways.
So he made everybody a n*gg*r
'cause he was arguing
over in Africa about the Watusi
and the Huwagada,
the Lagumbo,
you know what I mean?
sh*t, and put us all together
called one tribe... n*gg*r*s.
I think it's my father
who changes the conversation
around the *-word and makes it
the word that Black people use,
makes it public knowledge
that it's a Black word
used among Black people.
I'm an associate professor
of history at Smith College.
I teach a course,
History of the *-word.
And I just taught my dad
in the class.
It felt like it was
always something that, like,
the Southern slaveholder used
and that then Black people
sort of adopted.
But really, the *-word
was a word
that Black people used among
themselves, you know,
to, you know...
Making a statement
about their condition,
their enslaved condition.
His use of the *-word is 100%
connected to his family.
My father heard it
from his father,
and I heard Mama use it
a lot of times.
I heard Uncle Dicky use it.
They used the *-word
in popular speech.
They sat around and talked,
and that was part
of their vocabulary.
It's exciting, man, being Black,
because being white ain't
very exciting
'cause the best you can do
when you white is go to heaven.
You know what I mean?
But n*gg*r*s...
n*gg*r*s can't go no place.
That's what's so exciting
about being a n*gg*r.
You know, you might f*ck around
and luck up on heaven.
The *-word can be
a death threat,
and *-word can be
a compliment or a statement.
It can be a warning, or *-word
can be a term of endearment.
Do you have a routine?
A Super n*gg*r routine?
I beg your pardon?
Yes, I do a thing.
I just will be,
"Look! Up in the sky!
No, it's Super n*gg*r!"
Mahhhh...
Able to leap the ghetto
with a single bound.
His X-ray vision allows him
to see through everything
except Whitey.
For Blacks hearing it,
they would just laugh,
you know, 'cause they had
heard it before.
But America, man,
wasn't ready for that,
'cause America has never wanted
to face itself.
And you can't bring
your Black act up here
and make us look at ourself
like this.
Why is it so much a part
of your performance?
I don't know, Barbara.
I don't know. I guess it's...
I grew up and I learned
certain things
and I rebel by doing it myself.
And it takes the sting
out of it when you do it.
You can't do it now.
You can't stand to do it
'cause it ain't no fun.
You can hurt me with it,
and just...
- Hurts me.
- Yeah, good.
Pryor was able to display
his talent
not just in writing
and not just in standup.
But what really boosted Pryor
was his albums.
I think part of the politics
of Richard Pryor's material
lies in not only criticisms
of white racism,
but also embodying the persona
of Black street culture
and bringing that
to mainstream society.
"Is It Something I Said?"
The greatest piece
of comedy ever made.
He opens with a eulogy
for a drug dealer.
Everything on this album
is just kind of perfect.
It's better than seeing him...
Than actually seeing him.
It's that good 'cause
you imagine the whole thing.
He talked about people
you had never heard about.
The p*mps, the hustlers.
The wino on the corner.
And I know your problem, too, Junior.
You got a white folks complex.
That's right.
You don't know how to deal
with the white man.
I know how to deal with him.
That's why I'm in the position
I'm in today.
Here he is, really bringing
in a Black man's voice.
It gave breath and room
to a new way of telling stories.
Boy, we thought that
the comedian
always represented
the protagonist, the hero,
the guy that...
You know, the voice of reason,
where Richard didn't give us
that aspect at all.
He gave us,
"The world is a tornado,
and I'm standing in the eye
of the tornado."
They's got a choke hold
they use out here, though, man.
They choke n*gg*r*s to death.
That mean you mean dead
when they're through.
Yeah, two grab your legs,
one grab your head,
he'll snap...
"Oh, sh*t, he broke."
You can see it happen.
His material all the way switched.
Once Richard became himself,
he changed comedy forever.
"Can you break a n*gg*r?
Is it okay?
Let's check the manual.
Yep, page 8.
You can break a n*gg*r.
Right there. See? All right.
Let's drag him downtown. Okay."
Pryor opened the doors, man.
He pushed it
as far as you could.
That had an impact
because it showed, like, yeah,
you could talk
in your own language.
You could be yourself.
I've been doing comedy
since 1968.
Me and Pryor...
Yak 'em, rack 'em, zak 'em.
Can you believe it's 50 years?
I haven't even... I hate to say
I haven't even thought about it.
In the early part of the '70s,
broadcast television
had been more variety-geared
when you brought
Black people on.
There were no sitcoms
with Blacks
except when they did
guest-starring spots.
However, we started seeing
more Black people in lead roles.
Cosby Got "I Spy."
Diahann Carroll was in "Julia."
And then in 1970,
"The Flip Wilson Show" was
the first time a Black comedian
had a show
with their name on it.
And now here's Flip!
Flip Wilson was the only
Black guy on TV doing comedy
and doing sketch comedy.
How long has it been
since the accident?
"The Flip Wilson Show"...
It was broad,
it was universal, and
it appealed to a lot of people,
but it was cut from the comedy
cloth of social commentary.
I've gone to the extent
of reserving a room
on the 14th floor of
the biggest hotel in Las Vegas,
Now, that room is
to meditate in.
- Yeah!
- That's what we're gonna be
doing in the room... meditating.
- Yeah!
You know why?
Because, friends, there are many
fallen women in Las Vegas.
- Right!
- I'm gonna pick 'em up.
- Yeah!
"The Flip Wilson Show" was
in the top 10 for five years,
and since it featured
a Black person,
ushered in the era
of Blacks on TV in the '70s.
My name is Norman Lear.
Norman Lear has changed
the face of television.
He burst upon
the public consciousness
when he took on bigotry
with his "All in the Family."
The ratings tell us that
at least 120 million Americans
watch Norman Lear shows
every week.
The biggest motivation
from a personal standpoint
was the white populace had
never seen Black family life.
And it was, from everything
I knew about it,
pretty much like
white family life.
And I wanted Black actors having
the opportunity
to perform on shows.
I brought Redd Foxx into it,
and, miracle of miracles,
you know...
What a performer can do
to a pile of words
on a few pages of paper.
What difference does it make
what the man is?
He needed the truck,
and I loaned it to him.
Well, I tell you what
difference it make.
They don't return stuff.
What are you talking about?
I'm talking about how
Puerto Ricans borrow your stuff
and then don't bring it back.
They borrowed Harlem, remember?
"Sanford and Son"...
On the surface,
it's just a classic sitcom,
laugh track, silly situations.
But, of course, because it has
an all-Black cast,
there's political ramifications
and historic ramifications.
For a long time,
we had nothing else.
We were thirsty
for this type of comedy,
comedy that we understood
where the people look like us.
Suddenly, in the early '70s,
the white American audience
had the opportunity
to see Black people
living Black lives,
Black families,
Black working culture, so forth.
So one TV show gave rise
to the next TV show.
And then here comes
"Good Times."
Your boss called,
said you're laid off,
but he'll call you back
in a couple of days.
- Argh.
- James, no!
"Good Times" was based off of
our world in the projects
and how we live and how we cope.
There was something real.
When James Evans gets fired,
for example, or the talk
about fatherlessness, right...
It's felt by Black America,
because Black America is also
dealing with, you know,
these issues.
Representation matters.
You get to see yourself.
And as a child, JJ's one of
my favorite characters.
Good morning, Dad.
How are ya?
Shut up, Junior.
So far I'm batting 1,000.
So we started doing the show
and I would throw stuff in
because I'm a comic,
and Norman Lear would come
and go, "You can't... no.
I said, "But it's gonna
get a laugh."
He said,
"Nope. We wrote stuff. Nope."
My thing on the show
was to go out
and be as funny, as devastating.
I wanted every little nugget
that I did to be just,
yah, yah, yah!
Aw, JJ, you too much.
I know.
John Rich, the big-time
sitcom director...
He says, "I want you to stand
in the middle of the room
and just yell, 'Dynomite.'"
I said, "John, people are
not that stupid."
He goes, "Yes, they are."
Dynomite!
When something was amazing,
"Dynomite!"
Dynomiiiite!
Dynomite!
It became this phenomenon.
It was like
lightning in a bottle.
Oh, I enjoyed it immensely
because I loved the laugh.
But then I saw quickly
in a couple of episodes
the problem it presented.
JJ was acting in
the Stepin Fetchit tradition,
these extreme
physical caricatures
of Black comedic performance.
John Amos and Esther Rolle
were angry and upset
because they were told
they were gonna be a show
promoting Black pride.
John Amos and Esther Rolle...
They are very solid actors.
Whether we were on
the same page or not...
I never had a problem with them
because first of all,
we really didn't speak
that much.
John and Esther talked to me.
I listened
very carefully to them,
and I know that I said
I would do what I could
and did what I could.
Norman Lear would say,
"We have a good message here.
We have a..."
I said, "Norman, if you wanted
to deliver a message,
go to work for Western Union.
I'm here to work, man."
It was difficult
to work together,
but it was difficult in
a very human, friendly fashion.
I think we got our message across.
If you watch our shows,
we were the first show
to do every subject.
We did VD, we did money,
we did gangs,
we did shootings,
we did everything.
Norman Lear wanted
to push buttons.
And to his credit,
he tried to present
a working-class view
of the world
that America
had not seen before.
But writers' rooms
are writers' rooms.
And if you don't have Black
people in those writers' rooms,
and more importantly,
a concentration of them,
there's no one that's going to
tell you that is a caricature.
So he did what he could do,
given the talent
that he had around him.
Hi.
I'm Garrett Morris talking to
all you white Americans
about the way Black people
have been treated in America.
Now, I know a lot of you feel
guilty, and you should.
And if you would like
to relieve your guilt,
I'm willing to accept money
as a representative victim
of 400 years of repression.
Send your check or money order to...
When "Saturday Night Live"
premiered in 1975,
we had Garrett Morris
as our Black representation.
Live from New York,
it's Saturday night!
He was brought in,
and I don't want to use the word
as the token Black guy,
but if you needed something
done Black, that was Garrett.
I'm Captain James T. Kirk
of the Starship Enterprise.
When he was cast on "SNL,"
it was sort of like
often tokenism
or very small parts.
Curtis, will you turn
the sound effects down?
I'd like everybody's
attention, please.
I have an announcement to make.
Thank you very much.
It would shock most people
to know
that Garrett Morris
was Juilliard-trained,
a well-respected Broadway actor,
off-Broadway actor.
He was an opera singer, actually.
He was classically trained.
I did at least
three Broadway shows,
at least 20 off-Broadway shows,
right?
And I wrote two plays as well,
right?
And all of this
before I was discovered
by "Saturday Night Live."
The underutilization
of Garrett Morris
in the early years of "SNL"
has a lot to do with
who's writing the show.
They're all white writers,
and when they try and write
for the Black character,
it might delve
into a stereotype.
It became clear as we're
watching ourselves on TV
that we didn't write this stuff.
So I think at some point
it becomes, like,
it's not enough
just to see Black people on TV.
You want the Black people
to control how they're on TV.
Richard!
Lorne Michaels felt like
he needed Pryor
to host one of the shows
to demonstrate that
this "Saturday Night Live"
was gonna be
for Black people, too.
NBC, the network,
was very uncomfortable
about booking Richard Pryor
because they were concerned
about the language.
Pryor, at this point, though...
He had come to that place
of success
where he could dictate
some conditions.
He brought in Paul Mooney.
"Saturday Night Live"
didn't want Paul Mooney.
He said, "No, I'm bringing
Paul Mooney in,
and we're going to
write the shows ourselves."
This has never been done.
Eventually,
they work out a deal.
The network is going to delay
the broadcast by seven seconds,
so if he says something
they consider objectionable,
they can censor it before it
actually hits the airwaves.
There are parts of that show
that are among the most famous
moments in "SNL" history.
- White.
- Black.
- Bean.
- Pod.
n*gro.
Whitey.
Tar baby.
Most famously, we have
the word-association sketch,
which was basically, you know,
his attempt
to say there are all these
things that white people do,
and they act like it's normal,
but they exist to degrade
Black people.
Bird head.
cr*cker!
- Spear chucker.
- White Tr*sh.
- Jungle bunny.
- h*nky.
- n*gg*r.
- Dead h*nky.
My father was saying,
"This is what white people say.
This is how white people
talk about us."
It's like a reaction
to the repression
and the subjugation
of Black people.
In the '70s,
the *-word is in your face.
This is a new style of comedy.
It's unapologetic.
Back in those days,
my dad wasn't afraid to,
like, call it out as it is,
and we're gonna go there
and you're either
gonna be with us or not.
And that's what I think
flipped television
to be a little rawer.
Tell me, Junior, do you have
any works in progress?
Well, I'm working on a new book.
It's from the perspective
of a white, Jewish,
American princess.
When our father was writing
the show,
he would go over stuff
with us all the time
and tell us
what he was gonna do.
There's a new word
that's going around
that's perfect
for him right now,
if you would agree with me...
A disrupter.
That episode was so successful,
the executives at NBC were like,
"We want you
to have your own program."
There's a lot of things
written about me.
People are wondering
if I'm gonna have a show,
if I'm not gonna have a show.
Well, I'm having a show!
People say, "Well,
how can you have a show?
You've gotta compromise.
You've got to give up
everything."
Well, look at me.
I'm standing here naked.
I've given up
absolutely nothing.
Paul Mooney actively recruited
standup comedians
to be in the show.
Those were his friends.
Those were the people
who proved themselves
on the stage
of The Comedy Store.
Honey, uh, why were you late
last week?
- Uh...
- Well, tell him an answer
so I can get to work.
Come on!
Marsha Warfield, Tim Reid,
Robin Williams, Sandra Bernhard.
He had a eclectic,
diverse group of people.
He had white, Black.
He had Asian, Native American,
the great Charlie Hill.
Hi, how are you?
Hi, how are you?
It is one of the wildest,
most jaw-dropping programs
in the history of television.
To us, Richard Pryor
was the comedy-genius god.
There was nobody else.
Being in his orbit was...
It was the best thing
that ever could have happened
to me.
When we see the "Chappelle's
Show" hit in the early aughts,
a lot of us are like,
"Oh, this is like
'The Richard Pryor Show'
from back in the day."
I feel it's time that Black
people went to space,
um...
Write this down.
M-A-R-S. Mars, b*tches.
That's where we are going...
Mars.
Red rocks!
- Yay, yay!
But at the time, the culture
was not ready for Richard Pryor
or the... maybe the culture was,
but the execs were not ready
for Richard Pryor.
He was dealing with this
looming censorship
the whole time.
What kind of stuff are they
giving you the most trouble
about in terms of censorship?
I don't know. It's like...
I guess it goes into
white homes.
They're worried about that
a lot.
So it famously
lasted four episodes.
Here's a guy that's trying
to take his standup view
and put it on camera
in primetime TV.
They couldn't understand that, man.
Richard Pryor had
this constant battle
with drug addiction.
By the early 1980s, he's so deep
into cocaine-induced psychosis,
he does something
which is really horrific.
He was kind of drug out
that night,
and he sees on the TV
some footage of Buddhist monks
setting themselves on fire.
So, you know,
he's hearing voices.
He's talking with God.
That took a lot of guts.
And so he douses himself
with overproof rum,
and he sets himself on fire.
Why he did that...
It's kind of a mystery
that I don't think
he could really answer himself.
Richard Pryor,
the comedian and writer,
was badly burned in an accident
at his home
in California last night.
The burns cover
the upper half of his body.
They are severe enough
to endanger his life.
Authorities say Richard Pryor
either walked or ran
nearly a mile and a half
from his house
to this location,
where an ambulance rescued him.
We sat vigil for him for weeks.
It was very touch-and-go,
and he was in
a tremendous amount of pain.
You know, he burnt...
His ears melted off,
pretty much.
I mean, he's... he hurt himself.
He had a 1% chance of living
at the time.
And I held signs
in my dad's room that said,
"Just say no to drugs,"
and, "Here are your lungs
from all the cigarettes
that you're smoking."
I wanted to save him, you know?
And I think I've spent
the rest of my life
up until he passed away
finding ways to save my dad.
Two years later,
he actually came back.
Richard!
But he changed after that.
The fire changed him
and changed his development.
He made a promise to himself
of being honest
with the public.
Eventually he takes
that hellish story
and turns it into the best
standup comedy ever produced.
Awhile back, Richard Pryor
was so badly burned
in an accident
that he nearly died.
He's made quite a comeback.
We think about
all the expl*sive parts
about Richard Pryor,
about the language,
about the characters,
but really the thing
that Richard Pryor did
was basically unzip himself
and spill his soul out onto
the stage and make it funny.
Listen to me... all the people
you ever heard of freebasing,
have you ever heard
of anybody blowing up?
Why me?!
He gets out in front of it
'cause he heard the jokes.
Saw y'all did some nasty-a*s
jokes on my a*s, too.
I remember this one.
Let's strike the match,
light this up.
Say, "What's that? Richard Pryor
running down the street."
I love Richard Pryor's
philosophy of just tell it all,
tell it all.
Can't nobody pull your drawers
down in the middle of a party
if you ain't got none on.
I did it so bad,
pipe would say, "Time to get up.
Time for some smoke, Rich.
f*ck all your appointments.
Me and you just gonna
hang out in this room together."
Richard Pryor's best stuff,
he's 40 years old, man.
When he's going through
all his mess,
to do that kind of material...
A lot of people would not,
you know,
have the ba*ls to even do it.
To come through something
horrendous and be alive,
you gotta have a sense of humor.
If you don't,
you're no man, you know.
Nobody opened up
more than Pryor,
I mean, about the good,
the bad, the ugly.
And nobody ever judged Pryor.
They related.
Richard Pryor probably did
a thousand things
he'd have got cancelled for,
you know.
You don't sh**t at your wife's
car and then talk about it.
It seemed fairer to k*ll my car
to me, right,
'cause my wife was gonna
leave my a*s.
Not in this m*therf*cker,
you ain't.
The thing about Richard Pryor is
how tremendously human he was.
There's nothing more human
than being fallible.
He even starts to think
through, you know,
his use of the *-word,
which had been central
to his act
for a decade at that point.
I went home to the motherland,
and everybody should
go home to Africa.
Everybody,
especially Black people.
He says a little voice
whispers in his ear and says,
"Look around and tell me,
what do you see?"
And the voice said,
"Do you see any n*gg*r*s?
And I say, "No."
And it said, "You know why?
'Cause there aren't any."
And it hit me like a shot, man.
I started crying and sh*t.
I was sitting there, I said,
"Oh, my God, I've been wrong."
I said, "I ain't gonna never
call another Black man n*gg*r."
I remember when he sat me down
and said,
"I'm never using this word
again."
And I never heard him do it.
It was super powerful.
He's a template for everybody
who comes after.
Everyone who comes after Richard gestures
and who they are.
And I was also the first
and only Black kid
in my school. Oh, yeah.
During Black History Month,
I was the exhibit.
Thank you.
I'm a descendant of him
because I think that comedy
really is about
radical thinking.
It's about breaking structures.
It's about
challenging authority.
And that was something that
he did really beautifully.
For me, I'm born of that.
And I said, uh, "Hey, man,
can I have some ice cream?"
He said,
"We don't serve n*gg*r*s."
I said, "Well, then,
do you have strawberry?"
I don't like to tell jokes
that make people comfortable.
I don't. It sickens me.
I'm finna to buy me
a self-driving car.
f*ck out of here.
I'm gonna be in the back seat.
You pull me over,
I don't know what to tell you.
Talk to the driver.
He showed us that
for any comedian
to be socially relevant,
you have to tell the truth.
That's the essence of our craft.
There was comedy before Pryor
and after Pryor.
And there's a very bright line.
Late 1960s, you know,
well into the 1990s,
his footprint on the culture,
right, is really significant.
I get what Richard Pryor did,
but Eddie Murphy really took it
to a whole 'nother level.
Part of the criticism was,
do they ever talk about race?
Do they ever talk about class?
I'm not a very political person.
Whoopi's always used her voice
to champion the underdog.
I have the answer to ab*rtion.
sh**t your d*ck.
In a world of panic,
Chris Rock and Dave Chappelle
are the voice of clarity.
I think all b*ll*ts
should cost $5,000.
The idea was
to do standup comedy.
Kid thought he was gonna die.
He called for his mother.
But it's not time
to be funny right now.
Just a different world.
You better not be afraid
to say what's right.
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01x01 - Part 1: The Revolutionaries
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It follows the progression of Black comedy through the years, tracing how comedians have used pointed humor to articulate the Black experience in America and expose and challenge society's injustices
It follows the progression of Black comedy through the years, tracing how comedians have used pointed humor to articulate the Black experience in America and expose and challenge society's injustices