Sarah Silverman is hard to pin down. Her tone is that of a thirty-something politically correct Jewish single, yet she discusses sex, race, religion and politics in a manner strikingly reminiscent of a seventh grade boy.
This duality has been a mixed blessing. One of the most brazenly funny and talented comedians in America, Silverman’s shockingly uncouth delivery has been the major appeal of her comedy as well as the major roadblock in her path to true stardom.
In her new indie film Jesus is Magic, it’s easy to see how Silverman has developed a cult following, yet has also has a hard time finding a mainstream fanbase. Barely five minutes into the movie, Silverman confesses, “When I was young I was raped by a doctor\xe2\x80\xa6which is so bittersweet for a Jewish girl.”
Silverman has a lot going for her right now. Her relationship with Jimmy Kimmel has, for better or for worse, given her a higher profile. Furthermore, the success of The Aristocrats helped no comedian better than Silverman. While most comedians giggled at their own filthiness, Silverman delivered a lecherous story about an aging talent agent with a truly anguished look, culminating with the line “Joe Franklin raped me.” It was a moment that simultaneously was disturbing and hilarious, and became the most memorable moment of the movie. The controversy surrounding that scene–Joe Franklin is considering suing Silverman for slander–has typified the mixed appeal of her entire career. Unlike any comedian since Andy Kaufman, Silverman has blurred the line between comedy and reality, making people laugh and then regret it seconds later.
The hit-or-miss nature of the humor makes it hard to review Jesus is Magic. I find Silverman hilarious, but I know there are plenty of people who don’t understand her appeal, and even more who find her flat-out offensive. To look at Jesus is Magic from a purely cinematic viewpoint, however, there are some noticeable flaws in the film’s approach. The majority of the movie is Sarah’s standup routine, which takes up about fifty minutes of the seventy-two minute movie. Fifty minutes is the typical length of an HBO Special, and Jesus is Magic probably would be more successful had it simply been a special. While the extra content certainly fits Silverman’s outrageous nature, it’s a little bewildering, doesn’t serve the film well.
There are problems with Silverman’s style that go well beyond the subject matter. One of Silverman’s greatest strengths is that, even as she finishes seemingly innocent discussions with exceedingly vulgar punch, she always manages to convince her audience, even if it’s just for a second, that she’s being sincere. While it’s remarkable that she can maintain our trust, this inverting of assumptions leaves her character on stage rather empty. We have seen what she doesn’t stand for, yet we have no idea what she does stand for. It’s understandable that she’s mocking racism, anti-Semitism, societal standards, and the easily offended, but if none of those are acceptable to Silverman, what is?
