“When Caesar Was King”
David Margolick
Schocken, $35
Long ago, here in our very own galaxy, there lived a human genius who was so funny that millions watched him every Saturday night, and he was so interesting that a very good writer, David Margolick, wrote a very good book about him.
His name: Sid Caesar.
The book: “When Caesar Was King.”
Caesar was able to make you laugh so hard that your eyes would fill with tears. Albert Einstein was such a fan that he asked to meet him. Presidents and everyone else wanted to know him. Isaac Asimov, Norman Mailer, Leonard Bernstein were fans.
Caesar was able to act like a “nutty professor” on any subject: He could be Ludwig Von Pablum, who wrote “Children Are People, Only Smaller”; he could be Hans Von Bulldozer, who wrote “The Dream House, or When You Build Castles in the Air, Make Sure the Foundations Are Solid”; he could be Sigmund Von Sedative, who wrote “Wake Up and Sleep.”
He could pantomime Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. He could speak make-believe French, make-believe German. He could mimic anybody or anything: a bully, a schlemiel, a gunslinger, an alley cat, a puppy, a seltzer bottle, telephone, or gumball machine.
Woody Allen, Mel Brooks, Dick Cavett, Johnny Carson, Carol Burnett, Jonathan Winters, Billy Crystal, Larry David, Neil Simon, and many others rhapsodized about Sid Caesar’s comedic gifts and routines. Seeing Caesar was “Like seeing a new country,” Neil Simon said.
Margolick long reported on legal affairs for The New York Times, covered the O.J. Simpson trial, was a contributing editor at Vanity Fair, and has written many books.
This one explores Caesar’s life in glorious detail — his highs and lows, his fame and foibles, his warts and brilliance. He dominated Saturday night television in the 1950s with “Your Show of Shows,” a 90-minute extravaganza of live comedy, sketches, music, and mayhem. According to a critic quoted in the book, “Caesar seems to be the ideal comic for television . . . his spontaneous adroit facial expressions . . . his comic material drawn mainly from perceptive observations of everyday life . . . for home consumption” were “just about perfect.” Another critic called “Your Show of Shows” an “island of engaging literacy in TV’s sea of vaudeville mediocrity.”
But Caesar’s high-energy, high-intensity television antics were eventually to tire and debilitate him, to the point where he indulged in drugs and alcohol for relief and compensation, which sadly ended in addiction and despair. The book reports all of this without rendering judgment. Caesar later recovered, taming his dragons, and wrote a revealing article, “What Psychoanalysis Did for Me.”
His partners in comedy included Imogene Coca, Carl Reiner, and Mel Brooks. Coca was a petite, wide-eyed comedienne of extraordinary talent. Brooks was an energetic good-luck charm who amplified Caesar’s craziness, and later on surpassed him in celebrity by producing “The Producers,” “Young Frankenstein,” “History of the World, Part I,” and other successful films.
Brooks said at Caesar’s memorial, “I didn’t realize then that a comedian could not only meet your [written] material but could actually lift it. Sid taught me not to write jokes but to write people. And to find out what made them tick. And to find the common denominator in all people so that the humor would be lovely, translatable, and understandable.”
Caesar ran a mini-empire: 26 staff people, 10 dancers, eight singers, an orchestra of 30, a conductor, three arrangers, three copyists, and a choral director. It went to his head. He became more of an executive and less of a clown. Even his brother noticed: “Funny is money. Exec is dreck.”
“Caesar’s Hour,” which appeared on Saturday nights, faced off against “The Lawrence Welk Show” in the same time slot. “Welk clobbered Caesar in the ratings,” according to Margolick. He became the “Man Who Killed Caesar.” About his demise, a critic wrote, “Caesar may have been too clever, too intellectual for a mass [audience]. To appreciate him requires not only a knowledge of books, plays, movies, psychological and social trends, but a willingness to use one’s mental processes.”
David Margolick’s book is a joy to read — about a comedy giant who was a joy to behold. Highly recommended.
David Margolick, who lives in New York City and Sag Harbor, will sign copies of “When Caesar Was King” at Authors Night in East Hampton Village’s Herrick Park on Saturday starting at 5.
Stephen Rosen, a regular contributor of essays and reviews, lives in New York and East Hampton.