Call Me Lucky Review
By David Kempler
The Angry Young Man
I'd never heard of Barry Crimmins. More than likely, you haven't either. Bobcat Goldthwait, one-time stand-up comic, who has morphed into a film director, is happy to tell us who Crimmins is, in his "Call Me Lucky". Bobcat has personal and professional reasons to educate us on Crimmins, because they go way back to when both were performing on the comedy stages of Boston.
Crimmins never attained the rarified air of Pryor, Carlin, or Rock, but he was fiercely intelligent, incredibly angry, and very quick on his feet. His fellow Boston comics of that era all admired him, even if they didn't always adore him, because he could be just as nasty in person as on stage. However, everyone who knew him loved him at some level. They understood that his heart was enormous, and despite his tantrums, they knew he loved them. What they didn't know was what caused his anger.
In 1992, at Stitches, a comedy club in Boston, the cause of his anger came pouring out on stage. He had been repeatedly raped by his babysitter's friend when he was very young. As you might imagine, telling this story in his monologue at a comedy club came as a bit of a surprise to the audience who mostly sat in stunned silence and great unease.
The anger of Crimmins was primarily directed at the Catholic Church and the U.S. government, in general, and President Reagan, in particular. His barbs were more venomous than funny, but they straddled the line well enough to keep his career going. His hatred of the Catholic Church stemmed from his personal experience with the priest in his local church. He alleges that this priest made him uncomfortable by touching him and talking to him in a way that made him queasy. Years later, it came out that that priest was charged with molesting another young boy, so his feelings were obviously justifiable.
Goldthwait jumps back and forth between the history of Crimmins and present-day Crimmins. Today he is a slightly more mellow version of himself, but you can still see the same fires burning in his eyes and sometimes in his voice.
Through interviews with Crimmins's old comedy pals and the kids he grew up with, Goldthwait paints a loving portrait of Boston's angriest comic. There is little doubt that Goldthwait looks up to him like a little brother. There are more fascinating parts of the story that I have not mentioned here and if you are a fan of stand-up comedy or political humor, you will consider yourself lucky if you get to see "Call Me Lucky".
