Life
Defending My Life review: A love letter to the other Albert Einstein
It’s incredible that none of these deconstructionist set-pieces were rehearsed
January 5, 2024 15:34
By, Josh Howie
2 min read
It’s incredible that none of these deconstructionist set-pieces were rehearsed
January 5, 2024 15:34ByJosh Howie, Josh Howie
Defending My Life
Sky Documentaries | ★★★★✩
I wish I’d watched Albert Brooks: Defending My Life on Sky Documentaries before the holiday period. If I’d been reminded of the many great films he’s been involved with, then the previous few weeks could have been joyously filled with a retrospective rather than the usual familial struggle scrolling the streamers.
What is slightly shameful, though, is that this idea didn’t occur naturally. Which just shows the necessity of this documentary in recognising the scope of Brooks’s talents and influence, and also gives an insight as to the reasons why perhaps he has not been lauded further.
Yet merely the presence of so many comedy luminaries queuing up to reminisce and sing his praises surely indicates the reverence with which the comedy world holds him. Chris Rock, Larry David, Judd Apatow, Sarah Silverman, Ben Stiller, David Letterman are just a few, and that doesn’t even include the likes of Sharon Stone and Steven Spielberg.
Seemingly his biggest fan, though, and director of this documentary, is legend in his own right Rob Reiner. Between the various TV sketches, film clips and talking head commentary that we flit between, the backbone here is a relaxed conversation between the two lifelong friends.
Across a leather booth, in what I take to be some old-school Hollywood eatery, the two reminisce over the last six decades. And there are revelations aplenty. I had no idea they lived together as young men, but were also peers from the most insane high-school drama class ever, which included Richard Dreyfus and Groucho Marx’s daughter.
The parallels in their lives don’t stop there, with both being sons of comedy legends who carved out their own ways as comedians, actors and eventually writer/directors. What marks Brooks as different, apart from being burdened with the original names Albert Einstein, is a father who literally died onstage at the legendary Friars Club.
As it happened when young Albert was 11 years old, this event surely influenced his later magnum opus Defending Your Life, as well as the somewhat disjointed way he perceived the world. Utilising that to great comedic effect, his early TV appearances were less standup comedy and more inventive, conceptual punk-comedy.
It’s incredible that none of these deconstructionist set-pieces were rehearsed, and speaks to a bravery that later informed Brooks in his filmmaking. Subject matter such as reality television in Real Life was way ahead of the curve, as was the way he raised the money and stood up to the studios. And all this is before they bring up his acting career, almost as an afterthought — as though Taxi Driver, Broadcast News and Finding Nemo could be afterthoughts. Reiner fits in a lot about his friend in this worthy and brisk love letter. But the most insightful anecdote comes at the end.
An agent asked Brooks why he always had to take the hard road. To which he replied, “You think I see two roads?” Maybe he had no choice in his path, but this is a fantastic reminder of how lucky we are that he took it.