By By Jesse Cataldo
Greg Behrendt is a professional comedian, and that means he’s pretty crafty.
He makes jokes about pictionary, puzzles over the practical purpose of the bathrobe and longs for the free Sundays of his youth. Most notably, he’s come up with a clever way to beg for our acceptance that’s a few steps above actual begging. It’s called reverse psychology, and Behrendt clings to it all the way down the river of insincere self-deprecation and observational humor that is Greg Behrendt Is Uncool.
Its prominence in the title alone indicates how clearly Behrendt wishes to express that he’s now too old to be cool, a coy acceptance that’s just a ploy for him to sneak back into the territory of coolness. In language not dominated by growing self-denial, the title roughly translates to “Maybe if I acknowledge that I’m past 40 and losing my edge I can still get away with wearing this chain wallet.”
Working as a comedian for the past 15 years, Behrendt has only recently gained notice with his 2004 book He’s Just Not That Into You, which he co-wrote with Liz Tuccillo, a writer for “Sex and the City” (Behrendt was a consultant for the show). The best-selling book is a mixture of self-help, comedy and relationship advice marketed towards women. He followed it with It’s Called A Break-Up Because It’s Broken, which was released September of this year.
Behrendt’s intent on this DVD-to define what cool is and why he’s losing it-is interesting, since a term as fluid and ambigious as “cool” is as hard to define as “old.” Of course, the two don’t have to be mutually exclusive, but cool is one of those things that only gets harder with age. In Behrendt’s case, his fervent attachment to the memoirs and behavior of his youth only reveals a quiet sense of desperation running undercurrent to the self-assured demeanor of his comedy. When Behrendt implores the audience, “You’re never too old to rock, right?” its as embarrassing as an aging dad trying to fill in at his son’s band practice.
Of course, this is tempered by the fact that Behrendt openly admits he’s aging, losing his grip on the coolness that has defined his persona. The entire crux of the special rests on this fact. How does a guy who has based his entire identity on being a “rocker” react to a future of spending his days in one on the front porch? In his case, the obvious reaction is to keep plugging along.
Blame it on the baby boomers. By refusing to let age compromise their youth, the children of the ’50s have pioneered the idea of a generation-wide disregard for aging gracefully. It may be an inspiring model, but it usually ends up as painfully embarrassing for everyone else.
Behrendt’s special presents an even more embarrassing prospect. How does the man-child, the Generation X anomaly fueled by Pizza Bagels and personified by Jack Black, react to aging? Besides nachos, the man-child has no greater weakness than the cheesy excess of rock music, meaning their slide into middle age will no doubt be accompanied by the phantom wail of the air guitar (at one point he even gives tips on proper technique).
Of course, an essential feature of the man-child’s repertoire is yelling, because as everyone knows, the louder something is the funnier it becomes. Behrendt shouts his punchlines so we’ll be sure to hear them and repeats them just in case we didn’t. This is where the biggest problems with his act lie; a good portion of this material would be funnier in someone else’s hands. Unfortunately, Behrendt’s retellings of having to find his glasses to see porn on the TV or his wife’s intimate experience with a Playboy model are weakened by his fixation with his rocker image. He expresses few emotions beyond smug superiority, confusion and surprise. He starts to approach the issue of his aging but shakes it off just as quickly, there’s no fear or doubt or any other type of humanizing reaction. This kind of swaggering self-denial ultimately reeks only of tacit desperation.
Appropriately, the DVD closes with the curtains behind Behrendt dropping to reveal a four-piece rock band, which joins him in a hard and fast rendition of “The Itsy Bitsy Spider.” He may be lapsing into uncoolness, but he’s not going down without a long, humiliating fight.
Final Grade: C