Review: Lenny (1974)

The troubled life of controversial US comedian Lenny Bruce is unravelled in Bob Fosse’s stark biopic…

Director: Bob Fosse

Screenwriter: Julian Barry

Based on: The stage play Lenny by Julian Barry

Synopsis:

*Spoilers* Catskills, 1950s. Lenny Bruce, a young Jewish comic, meets and marries stripper Hot Honey Harlow, but he doesn’t stay faithful for long. Together they form a double act and move to California where they get involved with drugs and have a child. Bruce’s act becomes increasingly controversial as he begins to use what is deemed obscene language. Bruce and Honey’s marriage falls apart and she loses custody, due to her drug habit, which lands her in jail. Bruce is repeatedly arrested at his shows for obscenity. He attracts a cult following and becomes obsessed with the law and his right to free speech. Honey leaves jail and goes back to Bruce. Their drug habit continues. Bruce becomes increasingly deranged, rambling on stage and firing his lawyers as they try to defend him at trial. He is eventually found dead at home from a drug overdose, aged 40.

Analysis:

*Spoilers* Shot in beautiful black and white, Lenny is striking on several fronts; not least the performances. Oscar-nominated Dustin Hoffman gives a committed and energised performance as Bruce, while equally impressive is Valerie Perrine as the troubled Honey.

The tale of Bruce’s downfall is as stark as it is predictable, as the drugs and his obsession with the law take over, and his lively routines become him simply reciting from the transcript of his obscenity trial.

What is also impressive about Lenny is how the story is structured, mirroring Bruce’s erratic behaviour by blending a variety of techniques including:

Flashback: to the early days where Bruce meets Honey.

Flashforward: to Bruce in his latter years, when his routines became self-absorbed rants.

Documentary-style interviews: Honey, Bruce’s manager Art and his comedian mother Sally all get the mock interview treatment (with Bob Fosse himself as the interviewer) to give their take on Bruce.

The use of reality: such as court records, the verbatim routine towards the end when a drugged-up Bruce falls apart on stage, and the final image, which is of the actual Bruce (not Hoffman), dead in 1966.

One of the more interesting things about Lenny is that it was directed by the late Bob Fosse, who is, of course, best-known for some of the most iconic stage and screen musicals, including Cabaret (1972), Sweet Charity (1969) and the 1975 stage version of Chicago. However, as the recent TV mini-series Fosse/Verdon (2019) revealed, the director/choreographer had much in common with his controversial subject.

Both started in showbiz at a young age, finding themselves thrust into the adult world of seedy dives and strip clubs. Both became dependent on drugs, suffered ill-health as a result of their lifestyles and died young. Importantly, they both lived with insecurities that led them to treat the devoted women in their lives like dirt, as they continuously tried to bang every girl in sight in a futile bid to feel better about themselves. This sexualising of women is highlighted by Fosse’s gratuitous use of near-naked women – including lingering striptease acts and a titillating three-way – to tell Bruce’s story. Just as Fosse/Verdon got a little weighed down by Fosse’s relentlessly immature, destructive behaviour, so too does Lenny, as we watch a grown man get a free pass to act like a bastard just because he has a talent.

The main problem with the film, however, is Bruce’s lack of motivation. We don’t get any real sense of why Bruce became an outspoken profane soothsayer. One minute he’s a second-rate comedian doing bird impressions, the next he’s blowing up any chance of a mainstream career when he says something off-colour to an uptight 1950s audience, alienating top TV comedian Sherman Hart (a thinly-veiled Milton Berle) in the process. We then see him rise to the status of 1960s counterculture hero as he taps into subjects hitherto unspoken of in public. But other than wanting to make money, become the centre of attention and get a rise out of people by using naughty words and racial slurs, there doesn’t seem to be any reason for Bruce’s revolt against the mainstream. His sudden obsession with studying law and railing about first amendment rights seems at odds with what’s come before.

Given that very few comedians have received the biopic treatment, Lenny is essential viewing for anyone interested in seeing real life interpreted for the screen and to get a closer look at an iconic performer. However, to get a fuller picture of Bruce, the film should be used as a companion piece to other works, such as the documentary Lenny Bruce: Swear to Tell the Truth (1998) and even Bruce’s own 1965 semi-autobiographical book, How to Talk Dirty and Influence People.

Watching Lenny today, in a world where profanity is commonplace and comedians routinely critique the world with no holds barred and no subject off-limits, it’s a little hard to see why Bruce caused such a stir (in fact, he seems pretty tame). But just as it’s difficult to grasp, for example, how radical rock ‘n roll was in the 1950s if you weren’t there to witness the revolution, it’s impossible to really understand how influential Bruce was; not just in his acerbic delivery but also the way in which he stood up for free speech. His willingness to take that stand paved the way for the likes of Richard Pryor, George Carlin and Bill Hicks, all famed for their free-flowing barbs that mixed reality, absurdity, profanity and satire.

Overall, part of the problem with Lenny is that Bruce’s story is presented in a bubble, when his life and impact need to be placed into the context of America in the 1950s and the early/mid-1960s. With the Vietnam War gathering pace, societal divisions, the sexual revolution, and violent acts, such as the JFK assassination, shaping these years, Bruce became a much-needed voice of dissent. Unfortunately, this aspect becomes a little lost in the haze of drugs, self-destruction, obsession and emotional immaturity that, not for the first time, silenced a voice that still had much to say.

Go further:

Take a look at the Lenny trailer:

If you like Lenny, try:

All That Jazz (1979): Get a closer look at Bob Fosse in this thinly-veiled self-directed/choreographed biopic, in which Roy Scheider stars as womanising, drug-using Broadway director, Joe Gideon.

Raging Bull (1980): If you want a beautifully-shot black and white tale of self-destruction, it doesn’t get better than Martin Scorsese’s biopic of boxer Jake La Motta.

Man on the Moon (1999): One of the few comic biopics, this features a fantastic central performance by Jim Carrey as the manic Andy Kaufman.