Albert Brooks: Defending My Life

When someone helps to shift the direction of something, regardless of the milieu involved, there's a natural inclination to want to celebrate that individual's contributions. In the area of stand-up comedy, one of the names that frequently comes to mind is Albert Brooks (born Albert Einstein - really). In the 1970s, his inventiveness took comedy in a new direction, inspiring others to follow suit and forever changing the art form, and this new HBO documentary from Brooks's lifelong friend, director Rob Reiner, is an apparently sincere attempt at paying tribute to the writer-actor-comedian-director. Unfortunately, this effort misses the mark in many respects (though it admittedly improves markedly in the picture's back half). Perhaps the biggest issue here is Reiner himself; as someone who has known Brooks since high school, he's probably too close to the material to present a balanced view of his subject. Many of his interview sequences with Brooks come across as two old friends reminiscing about the past without providing sufficient back story information for the viewers, the result being a vehicle that's a little too "inside" for audiences to fully appreciate the point of their conversations. What's more, the film has an annoying tendency to gush, especially when it comes to the comedian's early routines, work that may have been cutting-edge when first introduced but that, frankly, hasn't withstood the test of time. Toning down the hype here would help immeasurably, particularly in the film's interview segments with peers and admirers (including such entertainment industry heavy hitters as Chris Rock, Wanda Sykes, Ben Stiller, Sarah Silverman, Larry David, David Letterman, Conan O'Brien, Jon Stewart, Stephen Spielberg, James L. Brooks and Judd Apatow, among others), which often treat Brooks as the sole progenitor of innovative stand-up comedy. This is clearly a case of overstatement, especially since there were others at the time doing similarly inventive routines. The picture's opening sequence, largely devoted to the foregoing, rambles along far too long, too, delaying its treatment of what works best in this documentary - an examination of Brooks's achievements as the director of such movies as "Real Life" (1979), "Lost in America" (1985), "Defending Your Life" (1991) (his best work) and "Mother" (1996), as well as his performances in films like "Taxi Driver" (1976), "Broadcast News" (1987), "Drive" (2011) and "Concussion" (2015) and his animation voiceover work in "Finding Nemo" (2003), "Finding Dory" (2016) and his multiple appearances on the long-running TV series The Simpsons. These are the endeavors in which Brooks's brilliance truly shines, and they generally deserve better, more complete treatment than what they receive here. Don't get me wrong here - I'm a big fan of Brooks; however, I wish his talents and achievements had been showcased in a better film than what's on offer here. If you really want to get to know Brooks better, watch one of his films - they'll show you more about him than anything featured in this documentary.

Not as much a documentary as two old friends having a long discussion. It's Rob Reiner's MY DINNER WITH EINSTEIN.

Einstein here is, of course, known to the world as Albert Brooks. Reiner and Brooks have been friends for some 60 years. It's a very chummy look at his life and career. The clips are good, if not long enough to really capture Brooks' sense of humor. The guest interviews include a lot of mutual friends such as Larry David, Judd Apatow, Steven Spielberg etc. And they never hit very deeply either. Brooks fondly recalls his show business upbringing as his parents were both performers (curiously, Brooks' late brother, comedian Bob Einstein, is given almost no mention at all).

Most interesting here are the pre-SNL and Tonight Show footage showing the young Brooks developing his routines on variety programs hosted by the likes of Johnny Cash, The Everly Brothers and Helen Reddy. Brooks is working out his thoughts on the nature of comedy itself. His act occassionally veers into Andy Kauffman level conceptual art - with a less dangerous edge, perhaps. Even in this nascent stage, Brooks' greatest strength is that his "characters" are really just himself. What sets Brooks apart from most comics is his willingness to be unlikeable - often, deeply so. Narscistic. Venal. Mean. Conceited. It's that lack of traditional warmth that explains why for such a famed and lauded creator, he's only made seven films over a 50+ year career (although it's never directly explored here). Of course, it's Brooks' sarcastic humor and intelligent irony that has made him an icon.

DEFENDING MY LIFE is an enjoyable look for fans of Brooks but don't expect anything probing or challenging (curiously, unlike his actual work).

There's a danger in saluting your friend to an audience. Especially when you commit your adulation to film. And then sell it for showing to the masses. I kind of see Albert Brooks as a better looking forerunner to Larry David. He's turns annoyance and insecurity into an art form.

But as original as he may have been in his early days , he was often better in other director's material like Taxi Driver and Broadcast News.

The film is more of a friendly chat between long time pals than a serious dissection of Brooks impact on comedy. Honestly, some of the bits Brooks did as a kid killed Rob's dad's friends but struck me as "had to be there" moments.

In sum, it's not a terrible documentary but unless you are a comic nerd, it's a bit dull.

One of the important funny men of the 70s-90s gets his own documentary from his friend Rob Reiner.

If you're not familiar with the stand-up by Albert Brooks, which I was not, you should know some of his movies - Modern Romance (1981), Lost in America (1985), Mother (1996), etc. And if you're not familiar with his movies, then perhaps with his performances - Broadcast News (1987), Finding Nemo (2003), Drive (2011), etc. And if you're still not familiar with him, geeze, I don't know how you've gone through life without seeing at least of these movies.

I've always held Brooks in my mind as a toned-down Woody Allen kind of figure, presumably because he did share some of the stylings in the movies that he wrote-directed-featured-in. He has worked on so many good films, regardless of his part in it, that it's hard to ignore him as an important artist of his era. Proof to that is the quantity and quality of talking heads who took part in retelling his story, from Stephen Spielberg to Ben Stiller to David Letterman (and many more). You get a good sense of the kind of guy Albert Brooks is and a taste of some of his memorable works, but a lot of the focus is on his irreverence as a stand-up comedian - which is probably where the value is in this, because the movies will always stand on their own.

Other than that, the documentary is traditional to a t, going over the career of AB while adding some context via a one on one interview between him and Rob Reiner. There's a fair amount of funny stuff in it, if not riveting, and a warm portrait of a guy who has left his own distinctive mark in "the business".

Albert Brooks has always been criminally underrated, first as a stand-up comic, then as a filmmaker and casting himself as the leading man, and finally as a character actor in other people's movies ("Broadcast News", "Drive"). His off-the-ledge audacity and unique sense of the absurd didn't go over with everybody, but he is revered by fellow comics and those of us dazzled by his laser-sharp wit. It was smart to have his best friend Rob Reiner direct and interview him in this fleet but invaluable 2023 documentary. Their casual rapport not only helps offset some of the more zealous comments from his celebrity fans but provides insightful context to the most memorable moments of his career including two of my favorite films, "Lost in America" and "Defending Your Life". They also delve into his fascinating star-studded childhood when his successful comedian father died at a Friars Roast for Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz. It made me wonder if it was Brooks' idea for his character to die in the opening moments of "Private Benjamin" when his zealous bridegroom has a fatal wedding night coronary while having sex with Goldie Hawn. After all, he finds humor in the least likely situations.