I think the buildup to my seeing this movie would have made any judgment unfair. I actually went in expecting to pee myself and came out with a few larger-than-normal laughs and a little embarrassment for some of the comics who just came off poorly. The premise is simple, but not quite simple enough: simply having a bunch of comedians telling the joke would have made a shorter movie and probably a more entertaining one as well. It's hard to get anything as shallow as the aristocrats joke to hold up after all the analysis put to it by Provenza and Jilette and their cavalcade of writers, comedians, and journalists.
That said, when some of the comedians do tell the joke, it kills. George Carlin is the one of the most-heard in the movie and the first to tell the joke, and it's a good setup. His style is inimitable. Everyone has their own flourish or angle: Drew Carey uses a goofy hand gesture, a couple people tell it backwards, Sarah Silverman gets disturbing, Gilbert Gottfried (supposedly the film's inspiration for his telling at the Friar's Club roast of Hugh Hefner) blasts you assaultively, and of course Bob Saget plays off of his famous dichotomy of dirty comedian with a family-oriented TV past, in what might be the most riotous part. I mean, really funny.
Those aren't the only good parts, some should be left as surprises you don't see coming: Kevin Pollack's twist, for instance. Some of these comedians really just aren't funny, and many obviously don't belong telling this joke because they can't seem to cut loose enough to do it. Not everyone can be as comfortable with people's "danger zones" as Carlin or Trey Parker, so veterans like Howie Mandel and even Emo Phillips come off as little kids playing a bigger boys' game. I felt embarrassed for some of the lack of reaction from both the guys behind the camera and the people in front of the screen at the theater.
Overall, the parts that are great are worth the ticket. I suppose it balances out, and in the nature of the film, a hit-and-miss effect should probably be expected. But why go see a movie with consistently decent laughs when you can see one that'll bomb on a few and absolutely slay you with many more, like the Aristocrats.
That said, when some of the comedians do tell the joke, it kills. George Carlin is the one of the most-heard in the movie and the first to tell the joke, and it's a good setup. His style is inimitable. Everyone has their own flourish or angle: Drew Carey uses a goofy hand gesture, a couple people tell it backwards, Sarah Silverman gets disturbing, Gilbert Gottfried (supposedly the film's inspiration for his telling at the Friar's Club roast of Hugh Hefner) blasts you assaultively, and of course Bob Saget plays off of his famous dichotomy of dirty comedian with a family-oriented TV past, in what might be the most riotous part. I mean, really funny.
Those aren't the only good parts, some should be left as surprises you don't see coming: Kevin Pollack's twist, for instance. Some of these comedians really just aren't funny, and many obviously don't belong telling this joke because they can't seem to cut loose enough to do it. Not everyone can be as comfortable with people's "danger zones" as Carlin or Trey Parker, so veterans like Howie Mandel and even Emo Phillips come off as little kids playing a bigger boys' game. I felt embarrassed for some of the lack of reaction from both the guys behind the camera and the people in front of the screen at the theater.
Overall, the parts that are great are worth the ticket. I suppose it balances out, and in the nature of the film, a hit-and-miss effect should probably be expected. But why go see a movie with consistently decent laughs when you can see one that'll bomb on a few and absolutely slay you with many more, like the Aristocrats.