Late one night, on a snowy evening in 1982, my brothers and I were watching PBS at my parent’s house in Baltimore. It was a Friday, which meant The Avengers at 11 pm, followed by Monty Python’s Flying Circus at midnight, and then, our favorite - Second City TV.
It was snowing on this particular evening, and my brothers and I were stretched out on the floor next to the wood stove with a couple of dogs who never wandered too far from the heat, quietly coveting Emma Peel, and laughing uproariously as John Cleese tried to buy some cheese from the proprietor of a cheese shop that didn’t carry any cheese. And then, five minutes into SCTV, an inexplicably dressed man-child armed with a musical triangle and gelled hair slinked onto the set in a pair or trousers pulled up to his sternum and made us laugh so hard we woke up the parents. That was my introduction to Ed Grimley, the first of many characters to spring from the mind of Martin Short, a comedic genius that I finally got to know last night, thanks to a film called Marty: Life is Short.
This is the best documentary I’ve seen in years, and I’m recommending all of you watch it this weekend. The director, Lawrence Kasdan, captures the essence of his subject – and his dear friend - in a way that feels utterly authentic. The movie is filled with famous people who don’t come off as famous, partly because their fame is secondary to their obvious affection for Marty, and partly because they are captured almost entirely in home movies. Tom Hanks, Steve Martin, Steven Spielberg, Kathreen O’Hara, Eugene Levy – all the Second City players, in fact, and many of the SNL alum – appear in hundreds of clips, filmed mostly at Snug Harbor, Marty’s lakefront cottage in Ontario. It’s through their eyes that we really get to know Martin Short in a deeply personal way that never feels mawkish or manipulative, in spite of all the tragedy he’s endured.
In large part, Life is Short is a love story between Marty and his late wife, Nancy Dolman, who died from cancer at 58. I knew their marriage was special, but I didn’t know how completely devoted they were to one another, or what a singular talent Nancy was, in her own right. What a pleasure to get to know her in this way. Of course, Marty’s grief at her passing was profound, but so too was his resilience. It’s one thing to “get on with life,” as we all must to do in the wake of a tragedy. But it’s another to do so in the public eye, as a comedian. Marty persevered, without a trace of self-pity, just as he did as a boy, when his beloved older brother died in a car accident. And just as he is doing today, in the wake of his daughter’s tragic suicide. In his first public comment on that particular tragedy, Marty quoted George Eliot. “The dead are never dead until they are forgotten.”
Who knew Jiminy Glick was made of such tough stuff?
Life is Short is also full of wisdom for anyone crazy enough to try and make a living in the entertainment business, and Marty is very candid about his many professional disasters. “98 percent of this business is failure,” he says. “Nothing works and then something works.” And then again, later in the film, he says something similar to fellow actor John Mulaney, who was devastated by the low ratings and terrible reviews for one of his projects.
“90% of everything you try creatively is going to fail, John. Get used to it. That’s the job.”
I’d never compare my own career to Marty’s or juxtapose whatever creativity I might possess to his immense and sprawling talent. But I understand the importance of failing and take great comfort in knowing that on that score, we have both excelled.
Anyway, I’m not sure why this movie stuck such a chord with me, or why I feel compelled to recommend it. Maybe it’s the nostalgia of seeing Ed Grimley on my screen all these years later, and recalling those late nights with my brothers at my parent’s house alongside the dogs and the wood stove, and all the belly-laughter that Marty and his Second City pals inspired. Or maybe it’s the passing of my Aunt Janet last week, and seeing my mother cope with the loss of her sister with such dignity and grace. Or maybe it's those other sisters from Greece that have been on my mind all morning - Melpomene and the Thalia. The famous Muses of Tragedy and Comedy, whose dramatic masks are forever entwined, and destined to worn by us all.
Whatever the cause, Marty made an impression, and the film is worth your time. Maybe not as relevant this weekend as Band of Brothers or Saving Private Ryan, but a fine reminder that another Memorial Day is upon us, and that life is indeed, short.
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