Influence is unforgettable

The comedian brought his real-life problems to his routines.
By GEORGE M. THOMAS
Knight Ridder Newspapers
Richard Pryor's in-your-face style will live forever. Not in the albums, television shows and specials and assorted movies that he leaves behind, but in the comedians -- especially black ones -- who mimic his style.
While there are many who remember only the four-letter words, anyone familiar with the comic genius' brashness knew there was more than a hint of anger and truth in what he said.
In routines about Cleveland Browns and National Football League legend Jim Brown, he marveled at the running back's prowess, strength and intelligence in an era when "he didn't have no one blocking for him."
Of course, it was a joke and everyone knew it, but it was Pryor's way of getting to larger issues that remained taboo in the late '70s. Years after the civil-rights movement had reached its apex and black Americans were still in a state of social disarray, he recognized this fact and had little problem sharing his observations with anyone who would listen.
As a stand-up comic, he was without equal. His words still echo in this writer's memory 31 years after my stepfather deemed me old enough, at the age of 9, to hear them. Pryor joked about slavery on one album and went through an entire riff filled with laughs dripping with irony and ended it with the line -- "I ain't never gonna forget." It's a five-second moment that lingers for years.
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He treated racism, politics, sex and drugs as fair game in his stand-up and other routines. One of the most memorable sketches from "Saturday Night Live" that ever graced television was one in which Pryor, portraying a job applicant, sat across from Chevy Chase, a potential employer, and they went through the gamut of racial epithets that whites used for blacks and blacks for whites. Hilarious? Yes. Dangerous? Even more so. Intelligent? No doubt.
Pryor took those elements of his persona to network television in 1977 with "The Richard Pryor Show." (Want to look at where David Chappelle got his inspiration? There it is.) That medium was much too small for his talent, and America wasn't ready for it, either. But, of course, the movies would call.
Roles
He gained notoriety for roles in mainstream movies, such as "Silver Streak" (1977) and "Stir Crazy" (1980), films that paired him with Gene Wilder and led to great success. But in some ways those parts -- as a con man in the former and a convict in the latter -- didn't maximize his talents.
It was barely known comedies such as "Which Way Is Up?," which had him portraying multiple roles, that fully displayed his skills, as did "The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & amp; Motor Kings," a film about a barnstorming black baseball team set before Jackie Robinson broke Major League Baseball's color barrier. He even showed the clown was far from a fool by appearing in dramatic roles such as "Greased Lightning" (1977), as stock car racer Wendell Scott, and in "Blue Collar" (1978), a film about struggling autoworkers.
But it was concert films, most notably "Richard Pryor: Live in Concert," that truly gave you a glimpse inside who he was. What was incredibly refreshing, and what many other comedians take note of when watching these films, was that nothing was off limits. Racism, sexism, sex, politics and neighborhood pets were dealt with intelligently, poignantly and hilariously.
In that performance, he revealed that he and one of his wives shared a tumultuous relationship; it led him to shoot his own car. He talked about things in a way that all audiences could recognize, but in his comedy, there was pain. In "Live in Concert," he also told of the harsh environment that was the norm for him growing up in Peoria, Ill., including a father who had little problem throwing punches when Pryor challenged him.
His problems
Anyone who listened had to know that beneath the facade, the clown was crying, or else possessed by demons.
Sure enough, despite all the success, Pryor eventually imploded. His battle with substance abuse was well known, but when you're on top, you can do no wrong and no one wants to tell you the truth -- ironic, considering Pryor often dealt in that commodity.
His career literally almost went up in flames when he lit himself on fire, reportedly while free-basing cocaine. Later, it would be said that it was actually a suicide attempt.
Despite life-threatening burns over more than half his body, he rebounded and, to a certain degree, thrived, eventually talking about the experience in the concert film "Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip."
He dealt with it on a more personal and autobiographical level in "Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling," a movie that was flawed but contained unflinching portrayals of Pryor's demons. It may very well have been his most revealing piece of work. As was his trademark, he took adversity and used it to his advantage.
For that ability, Chris Rock won't forget. David Chappelle won't forget. Eddie Griffin won't forget.
Anyone who can appreciate the genius, talent and element of danger that lurked in the psyche of the man known as Daddy Rich won't forget, either.