Articles

…Born in Paris but raised in West Hollywood, Guttman gave up the Southern California fast track for a less hectic life in Northern California.

“I wasn’t willing to have my kids raise themselves,” he says, adding, “I’ve done thousands of things,” he adds. “And I’ve never stuck with any of them (except comedy).”

However, in his shows he has a method, even if it’s slightly madness. Basically, he says, “I talk about babies, kids — that tends to get the women on my side. I talk about relations a little bit, how married people fantasize they’re somebody else in bed… So I ask my wife, ‘Well do you want to do the Ricky Nelson-Madonna thing? How about Fred and Wilma?’”

…Among his methods are laughing and smiling a lot. “Yeah, when you’re in Texas — you (want to) fit in — so I let my gut hang out,” he says. “In Vegas, I turn into Elvis the whole week and they buy it. It’s instinctual.”

…Guttman says he has known since the second grade that he was going to be a comic, “but it took until I was 28 to realize it.”

…The son of Sephardic Jews from Tunisia, Guttman has olive skin and curly hair, Guttman accepts the fact that he’s different: “I’m out there, I’m out in left field.”

…The son of a carpenter, Guttman grew up in West Hollywood and worked from the age of seven — first pulling weeds, later fixing up houses with his dad. Some of their clients included Buddy Hackett and Andy Williams. (My dad would tell me that the only autograph you want from anyone is a good one on a check!)

Show business seems to run in the family. Guttman’s sister, E.G. Daily, is the actress who (provides the voices for Babe, Pig in the City and Tommy in Rug Rats). His mother (once) owned a punk rock club in L.A. Brother Ron is an accomplished jazz guitarist, sister Reine River’s art work can be seen in Southwest Magazine, and Michael, 2 years younger, has had a Los Angeles based TV show about landscaping (“This old Plant”? ha ha).

Guttman said he’s only had about two years of college. He took a theater class here, an art class there — “then I got restless and ran away.”

Some places he ran away to were Europe and the Middle East. He spent 1972 traveling on a shoestring, financing his trip by picking up odd jobs along the way — working on an Israeli kibbutz, selling vegetables in a Parisian subway.

…Guttman has lived in Northern California since 1975.

(regarding his two daughters)…Guttman reflected on what it’s like to have kids. “One at a time they’re great; together, they’re like bad rap music.” Then, as if he were on stage, he improvised a rap song: “Mom! She hit me. Mom! Don’t touch me. No. She’s my friend…” “You wonder why our parents didn’t kill us?” he asks, shaking his head.

…Like comedian Jay Leno, Guttman said he doesn’t change himself when he gets on stage. “I just talk real fast — and if the microphone doesn’t work, I’m dead,” he said.

He says he has a “Richard Pryor sense of the absurd” and likes humor that is based on the goofy, off-the-wall stuff people laughed at when they were kids.

…He still incorporates his guitar into his act, performing original material like Gandhi singing the blues (and ballads to rival the likes of John Prine)…

…Guttman compares comedy to the food chain in the ocean: on the top are the big fish like Robin Williams who get all the movie deals; in the middle are those who get roles on TV sitcoms; at the bottom are the “leftovers” — comedians working the clubs and Pizza Huts.

“We’re eating krill,” he joked, “(But those were the eighties.) Those gigs paid your bills but they didn’t get you anywhere. Headliners at most comedy clubs only made $150 to $300 a night,” he said, “while the opening act got ‘$50 and food stamps.’” (Keep in mind, this was big money in those days. Today Sam’s corporate work and club gigs’ pay scale reflects an accomplished performer and, why not, he earned it.)

…Terri Paulsen, the daughter of comedian Pat Paulsen and owner of Entertainment Alliance, books Guttman for unusual private engagements ranging from banking seminars to homeless benefits. “We get calls from companies who want something a little bit different,” she said. “Sam is like a chameleon — he can do anything for a group. He really relates to the audiences.”

…“Something has to click when I walk on stage,” he said. “I have to leave my body and go into the right side of my brain. It’s got to be free. If it’s free, it’s funny.”

…A veteran of the local comedy circuit, Guttman has an extensive background as a musician and actor. He says he spent many years avoiding comedy. “I was afraid it would take away what I enjoy, and that’s humor. If it became a business then it wouldn’t be spontaneous.”

… But Guttman needn’t worry about losing the humor. The man is hilarious and exudes a natural sense of comedy through stories with a wide range of appeal. Guttman refers to himself as looking like a “good ol’ terrorist or Abdul the Rug Merchant” and says he often makes airport personnel nervous. His act is accompanied by some guitar playing and a variety of anecdotes that hit home.

“Any good comedy has its basis in tragedy. It is a hair’s breadth removed — not the tragedy of death, but the abiding one of life.”

Let’s face it — most comedy is cruel, which is why we like it so much.

Yet, as Woody Allen points out, “comedy teases a problem — it pokes fun at it — yet it never really confronts it.”

…The Napa Valley Comedy Café…greeted its first audience last evening …Headliner Ellen DeGeneres, a 27-year-old looker from L.A., spent 45 minutes talking about family, friends, pets, fears, foibles, and relationships. In fact she picked on her grandmother a lot. “My 97-year-old grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was 60” DeGeneres told us. “Now we don’t know where the hell she is!”

For my taste, however, I felt that DeGeneres forced a number of her laughs and seemed to go on much too long with too little to say. She is a funny lady, but should confine her stint on stage to about 20 or 25 minutes. The rest is just filler.

The guy that stole the show was Santa Rosa’s Sam Guttman, an average guy with better-than-average looks and a fantastic wit.

Case in point: “I managed to save a couple of hundred dollars. Then my car found out about it.”