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Sandra Bernhard is that rare performer who, within minutes, can belt out a warbly cabaret tune, unleash lacerating assaults on the Iraq war, John Kerry, Condoleezza Rice and Laura Bush, and thread the whole tapestry with references to Marc Jacobs, Hermes, Carolina Herrera and the study of the kabbalah. She lives in an esoteric genre of her own, and if pressed, you might call her a torch-song satirist.
If you’ve seen Bernhard, 51, on TV (as a late-night talk-show guest, or in her recurring role on reruns of “Roseanne”), you’ve gotten a wisp of how she merges indignation and irony with fabulousness. But if you’ve ever seen one of her live shows—in person or on video—you’ll know what The New York Times’ Charles Isherwood meant when he called Bernhard the angry, neurotic Jewish-girl version of Mick Jagger. She’s in your face, she sings, she rants, she struts across the stage with a rock-star swagger, and, well, there are those lips.
Offstage, in a phone conversation, she’s a bit quieter. She’s not as theatrical or ironic, but she’s just as opinionated and self-righteous as ever. While she delights in skewering the ridiculousness of some celebrities, she’s never been one to take pot shots at the undeserving. The current Britney Spears meltdown, for instance, leads to a tirade against Disney, and the never-ending Anna Nicole Smith saga turns into a discussion of Bernhard’s craft.
Q: On the CD version of (her latest off-Broadway show) “Everything Bad & Beautiful,” you mock Britney Spears and her dalliance with kabbalah. Considering the headlines, how does Britney figure into your act now?
A: I’ve been doing pieces on Britney for quite a while now, and I find her kind of a touchstone in culture, and I have a great deal of empathy for her. I think she was basically co-opted by her parents at a very young age, forced into this business. And it’s not completely her fault that she’s flipping out. Having an 8-year-old kid myself, and knowing the vulnerability of a child and being thrown into that disgusting, slimy world of Disney. I mean, I can’t think of a more horrible thing to do to your child.
Q: And I’ve got to ask about Anna Nicole Smith.
A: Another person who I’ve talked about in my shows over the years. In this particular show, unless I have a minute and I throw in an aside, I probably won’t address it, because I don’t have anything particularly right or edgy that I could do about her. We’ve been saturated with it. To me, you can do something interesting if there’s a way of approaching it from left field; it’s not so much about the tragic as the overdone, the overkill. You’ve got to be really very creative and imaginative to bring a new spin to things, which is what I always pride myself on doing. So unless I can do that, I won’t do it.
Q: Your act and your persona are part contemporary and part throwback; what you do is pretty uncategorizable. When you started, was there anyone you patterned yourself after? With your sharp wit, I’m wondering if Dorothy Parker was an influence.
A: No, she was never a big influence on me. Although I like her sophistication and dryness and edginess, I think I read more of Lillian Hellman when I was younger.
There were a lot of people I kind of drew from. Over the years, there were moments of Barbra Streisand and Carol Channing and Lily Tomlin, and very, very early Bette Midler and Tina Turner and Mick Jagger, Joni Mitchell, Laura Nyro. There were kind of a stable of people I loved as artists, and drew either comedic or musical elements from.
Q: You did an interview with our paper in 2000, and you complained that there was a dearth of irony and satire in our culture. Seven years and a whole mess of blogs later, do you think that’s changed much?
A: I think it’s back, but I think everybody really had to build up to it. Of course, I hold myself up as an example of somebody who never lost it and was never afraid to stay in it. Even though the whole post-9-11 patriotism kind of inundated the country, I stood my ground and thought that it was oversentimentalized. Why should we have so much self-pity when the rest of the world has gone through these kinds of experiences for hundreds of years, crying at the graves of their people, and now we’re supposed to get all the pity and the understanding? I always find ourselves holding ourselves up as the shining example of the world as a little embarrassing, especially now.
Q: You’ve talked about kabbalah in your act. Do you practice?
A: I’ve been studying for 11 years. I practice, and I do it in my way, and I don’t feel the need to lecture people, to go out and do a Scientology knock-down, drag-out of how this is gonna change your life. I don’t write children’s books about it, and I don’t proselytize.
Q: Do you watch “American Idol”?
A: I ... was completely shocked at how banal and horrible it really was. I mean, it’s just total, utter crap. I mean, anytime you filter through that many people, you will find somebody with talent—there’s no doubt about it. But just the idea of those complete schmoes (the judges) sitting there as the artistic (critics) of our time. I mean, talk about Dorothy Parker rolling in her grave. I mean, it’s just hideous. The only career I’m following with any interest is Jennifer Hudson’s. She’s definitely talented, and she’s escaped the whole stink of the show.
Q: And Simon Cowell?
A: He’s just pathetic. He’s like a greasy, stinky Englishman. He’s disgusting.
