BEDAZZLED! SARAH SILVERMAN: JESUS IS MAGIC

"I don't mind if you think I'm a racist, I just want you to think I'm thin."

So says (or thereabaout) the hilarious, controversial comedian Sarah Silverman in her first stand-up concert film, Sarah Silverman: Jesus is Magic, a movie that amply showcases her power with the taboo.

Frequently compared to Lenny Bruce and that barnstormer Andrew Dice Clay for her fearlessness with a racial quip, Silverman has a different angle. Though she's unleashing (or angering) audiences from the stranglehold of political correctness, she's nevertheless removed from her material. Covering topics that play political in other acts, she strays from revealing any of her own politics, making her devoid of anger or even a trace of bitterness. This is no Margaret Cho. And she's also, charmingly, oddly demure, even when discussing sexual acts with her boyfriend (oral sex involving jelly makes her pause with amazement: "I'm turning into my mother!"). She's not the bad girl with a mission to shock you; she's a good girl who—oops!—just happens to quip about black people (or the "n" word), 9/11, rape, and the Holocaust—among other things. Riffing with an off-the-top-of-her-head timing that feels less offensive for her "excuse me, I can't believe I just said that" edge of surprise, Silverman resembles the prettiest English major you never witnessed discussing feces. This is part of her appeal. Watching the pretty woman state: "I hope the Jews did kill Christ. I'd do it again!" with the sharp juxtaposition to her flawless skin, Colgate smile, and extra-shiny Snow White black hair gives her some license. But then, maybe, to some, that makes her even more offensive.

She tests this out when, after discussing her trouble with an Asian-American media watchdog group, she wonders: "What kind of world do we live in where a totally cute white girl can't say 'chink' on network television?" And then she immediately one-ups herself with: "It's like the Fifties—totally scary. As a member of the Jewish community, I was really concerned that we were losing control of the media."

Silverman's more political defenders claim the comely comedian's subversive barbs make the audience think of their own prejudices, that she's exhibiting, oh so ironically, our culture's social hypocrisy. When she states, cutely, "the best time to have a baby is when you're a black teenager," it's OK for defenders to laugh, because, well, she really means it as a way to face our own inner racism. But I still haven't bought that level of depth quite yet. I think Silverman is a little more devious than that--she enjoys saying those naughty things our African-American history professor told us not to. But it's not that she lacks meaning--she's just not as cut-and-dried as say, George Carlin taking on the seven dirty words. And when she mocks her own narcissism in a joke about 9/11—that was the day she found out her favorite soy chai latte was 900 calories—you have to wonder how much of that is from her security rather than typical comic insecurity. Part of her uniqueness is both how rather normal she seems and how close she keeps her real self to her chest. Even in the musical numbers and skits (which interrupt her act to varied degree--some kind of amusing, some clunky, dumb and way too obvious), Silverman rarely reveals herself. She just reveals, often coquettishly, statements many people think but never say aloud. They certainly would never, ever say them as hilariously as she does. Like when Silverman jokes that her grandmother's concentration camp tattoo was a vanity plate: "Bedazzled!" I'm sorry (wait...no I'm not sorry) that's fucking funny.

This scene isn't in the movie but it's just so darn cute!

Read more Kim Morgan at her blog Sunset Gun.

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