Norm MacDonald: “Normcore”
Norm MacDonald’s teary farewell to David Letterman in 2015 came right in the middle of a Norm binge for me. Appearing as the show’s final stand-up, it was clear how much Norm stood out to Letterman, and the set, full of MacDonald’s blunt punchlines and prolonged pauses, was notable for being tender from a comedian most known for his dryness. But the appearance offers a good opportunity to reflect on Norm’s style of comedy. MacDonald is considered a comedian’s comedian, with all the attendant meanings, like disdain for the audience, and squandered commercial success, adding to the sense of the man as one of the great comedy non-conformist.
His videos online are best, but hearing stories about Norm from his peers Artie Lange, David Spade and Jay Mohr cast him as a kind of comedy outlaw. There’s the story of when Saturday Night Live enforced a smoking ban that carried a $500 fine, and Norm, who chainsmokes, kept $100 notes in his pocket for this exact purpose. When 6ft 8-SNL writer Ian Maxtone-Graham poured water over his head in protest, Norm punched to the ground the far larger writer who inspired the Simpsons character “the very tall man”. There’s also the time Norm threw away $60k from the pier at Atlantic City, which speaks to his trouble with gambling as much as his cavalier attitude. It’s rumoured that the 1998 film about underground poker Rounders — starring Matt Damon and Edward Norton — was inspired by MacDonald’s life. Then on Marc Maron’s WTF podcast interview (which he identified in an AV Club interview as one of Maron’s best), Norm revealed he’d gone totally broke at least three times.
Norm’s status as a nearly-man in terms of success is legendary. Coming up with the likes of Adam Sandler, Will Ferrell and Chris Farley, there’s the feeling Norm belongs to the A-list, but was relegated to cameos in Sandler films, and a judge role on the comedy X-Factor, Last Comic Standing. There’s no question Norm’s the agent of this ruin, through his compulsive gambling and his keen not caring. Case in point would be his bold decision as anchor of SNL’s fake news segment to continually deride OJ Simpson during his trial for murder, nonplussed that the network’s owner Don Ohlmeyer was Simpson’s golf buddy. When Norm was fired for this, together with SNL-head writer Jim Downey (Robert Downey Jr’s uncle), he used his notoriety to pogo into the movies, with cult-classic Dirty Work, and Screwed opposite Dave Chappelle. After these failed financially (NBC refusing to run trailers for these definitely didn’t help) Norm washed up on the ABC sitcom Norm, where his lack of interest in staid sitcom tropes prompted Norm to pine to co-star Artie Lange that he wished he could become a recurring guest character on his own show.
This is to concentrate on Norm the man and not his comedy, but the two are deeply enmeshed. First there’s the voice, which has this hilarious zonked quality, perfectly suited it turns out to voicing talking animals, like Lucky the Dog in Dr Dolittle, or the role of Pigeon in Adult Swim’s Mike Tyson Mysteries. It’s a voice that renders every sentence hilarious, which is useful for when Norm sets out to bomb intentionally. This brings me to Norm’s appearances on late-night talk shows, which he raises to a high art, spinning yarns that go absolutely nowhere, all delivered in a home-spun, old-timey style that’s not unlike Grandpa Simpson. On David Letterman he’s way more respectful — from the farewell clip it’s clear what adulation Norm has for him — but on Conan O’Brien Norm gets away with murder. There’s his rapid verbal wit, a willingness to say anything, and a knack for cracking the host up that’s as funny to watch as the jokes themselves. In 2015 Norm campaigned to take over the spot straight after Letterman. Instead it went to James Corden, which isn’t surprising — Norm would have been too funny.
Where to Start:
The one I’ve watched a hundred times. Norm’s form for maddening, distended jokes reaches its peak here. He’s clearly very erudite, referencing great Russian writers, and that these are then put to use in such a stupid and pointless joke is even funnier. Seeing Conan go from impatient to genuine conniptions is worth it as well.
The clip displays both Norm’s forthright style and quick delivery, adding some danger into the normally very staid and flat talk show format. Norm suggests titles for another guest’s awful film, and watching his gears turn once Conan throws down the final gauntlet really is a marvel.
This appearance was originally going to be shelved as it angered Comedy Central execs who wanted MacDonald to be shocking. Asked personally by his Dirty Work-director Saget to appear, Norm went the other way, delivering a selection of jokes taken from a joke-book for retirement speeches that once belonged to his elderly father. But it forms a perfect distillation of Norm’s love for old-timey language and willingness — nay eagerness — to bomb.
