Andy Kaufman was considered an oddball in his day, an amusing weirdo. But really, he was a genius, one who pretty much made everything from alter-egos to cringe comedy possible.
Assuming you believe his family and the State of California, Andy Kaufman died in 1984. It is a miracle of preservation and archival discipline, then, that this week, a new album of audio he took over the years — conversations, skits, arguments — has finally been released to the public. Called Andy and his Grandmother, it offers more evidence that Kafuman is one of the most important men in the development modern comedy.
Most famous for his time on Taxi and the fun stunts he conducted while on Saturday Night Live during its infancy, Kaufman was a walking experiment, shifting between personas and stretching reality until it snapped back and knocked an audience right in the head, scrambling their brains and unmooring their perception of the world. Kaufman's work on SNL and appearances on David Letterman's various talk shows were beamed right into the heads of today's comedy leaders — people like Judd Apatow, Conan O'Brien, and many others — who worshipped both programs growing up.
In some ways, Andy Kaufman was a man born too soon. He would have fit in perfectly in an era of Adult Swim and Funny or Die, late night oddities and cable networks devoted to experimental comedy. Then again, without him, these things may not have been possible.
Here are seven ways he influenced modern comedy.
The outrageous alter-ego
Andy was known for slipping into different skins, from early days doing a spot-on Elvis (so great that The King himself called it his favorite) to the "Foreign Man" character that would become Latka Gravas on Taxi. Most important, though, was the rude, callous, disgusting and particularly untalented lounge singer Tony Clifton — the character he would never admit to being.
Now, years later, there's no doubt that Andy was Tony; his writing partner Bob Zmuda has spoken about it at length, and the video makes it pretty obvious. But imagine a world pre-internet where people couldn't watch lounge acts recorded on cell phones or break them down into zoomed-in images; there were no forums or Reddit to analyze what the hell had just been on TV.
So Andy would dress as Tony and bark at the audience, and the legend would spread by word of mouth until his next appearance, confusion growing each time. And when people thought they had Andy dead-to-rights, that they'd trapped him in a lie and he would have to admit that yes, he was Tony, that's when he'd appear alongside the lounge lizard on national TV, the girth and bad tuxedo now being worn by Zmuda.
Think of all the alter-egos you see today, whether it's Sacha Baron Cohen's various acts (Borat, Ali G, etc.) or Will Ferrell's temporary bits. Those were all made possible by Andy and Tony.
The bizarre, disheveled interview on national TV
By the time that this aired, Andy was already known nation-wide for being a weirdo, which is why this interview with Letterman is even more impressive. In theory, you'd think that seeing Andy appearing on TV as a sloppy, wasted sad sack with snot (actually, Vaseline) plastered above his upper lip would almost be par for the course. But then, Andy had created a public persona in which anything was possible, so why not believe that he was absolutely off the ledge?
David Letterman's short-lived morning show, and then his hit Late Night, were often the forums for Andy's bizarre interview antics. That made for a perfect parallel years later when Joaquin Phoenix brought his bearded, smoked-out-of-his-gourd character to Letterman's Late Show, and it's probably why Letterman, having seen this years ago, was able to just straight up humiliate him.
