I think Stephanie Zacharek hit the nail on the head more than she knew when she described comedy as "precarious." Maybe it's unrealistic of us to expect even the best comedians to churn out hit after hit, brilliant performance after brilliant performance. It may be that even Steve Martin and Albert Brooks don't exactly know what makes some things work and other things flop -- there is a delicate magic at work in comedy that I would guess remains somewhat mysterious even to comedians themselves. Let's be grateful for their moments of genius and allow for the fluctuations inherent in that very genius.

Like someone who posted earlier, the first trailer I saw for The Pink Panther told me it was going to be awful, and I *like* Steve Martin. All it did, in fact, was make me want to go and rent the original immediately--which, when you get right down to it, can't be a bad thing.

I do wish the studios would catch on to the idea of doing re-releases for old films instead of remaking them. Think of it: whole generations introduced to film noir, to movie musicals, to great classics, all for a fraction of the price of remaking movies. A modest advertising budget and who knows, studios might find they've got an old hit on their hands.

-C.E. Murphy

I've always believed that some comedians are like musicians - they do their best work when they are 'hungry'.

When they want (need) fame, approval, money - when they still have that anger...comedians, as a group, are a pretty angry bunch. Anger and self-righteousness and that weird combo of arrogance and insecurity give them that fire. Think of the greats - Bill Hicks, Pryor, Bruce. Angry men. They had the guts to stand on a stage with a mic and say the things we all wanted to say - and they made us laugh at the rage. A talented comedian can almost be a cult leader when his (or her) game is ON.

Case in point: Chris Rock. He kicked PC ass back in the day. I've heard both right-wing zealots and unapologetic Liberals quote his act. But now? He's rich, and happy, and bitching about his wife (oooo...how 'edgy', ::rolling eyes::), producing a sitcom and hosting award shows. Denis Leary - a talented actor in his own right - ran out of Hicks material to steal and had to get a real job. Rumor has it that comedians will not go on stage if he's in the audience. His stand-up career is done.

My current fear: Eddie Izzard is now doing a series for F/X (with Minnie Driver). I love him - but how much anger can a guy have when a limo is picking him up every morning and he's banking 7 figures a year?

I watch a lot of stand-up and have seen this happen to live performers too - Eddie Izzard most notably. I have begun to wonder if what happens is that at some point comedians lose their fear. When they become too comfortable, too secure about what will make the audience laugh, then the edge vanishes, the danger goes and the laughs dry up with it. With a live audience the feedback is immediate and irrefutable: the thunderous silence of no chortling. When your audience is remote perhaps it takes longer to realise what has happened.

I agree about Woody Allen's Match Point, what a face-itchingly, embarrassingly, bad film. In the UK, where its cultural faux pas were glaringly evident, it was rightly, roundly dismissed. In his case though I do think that he has been handicapped by a desire for the respect that is too often accorded to gravitas and not to levitas. And boo to that.

They just aren't. Dan Akroyd was amazing on SNL, now he's an old fat guy. In Caddyshack, Chevy Chase did Owen Wilson's handsome cool better than Wilson does now. Now look at Chevy; old and unfunny. Adam Sandler was the next Jerry Lewis in his 20's...now he can barely sell "offbeat" romantic comedies. Eddie Murphy. Woody Allen. Jim Carrey. Soon Will Ferrell will join the list.

There are very (very) few male comedians who can make the transition to old age. Bill Murray is the best example of a young comedian who can still do funny. Tom Hanks took the easier route, transitioning from comedy to drama.

While we seem to drown in a sea of celebrities these days, real stars -- creative, innovative, endearing -- do not come along that often. Stand up comedy has given us many wonderful talents, but those who started by doing stand up, with some exceptions, never quite seem to mature as actors. Many of those who did were vaudevillians (Bert Lahr, Ed Wynn), but there were also those who resolutely refused to change their personas one whit (Bob Hope, Jack Benny, George Burns). There was a time when actors could easily handle comedy (Gary Cooper, Cary Grant, Jack Lemmon, even Jimmy Cagney) but they were actors first, equally capable of doing dramatic parts.

Those who came from stand up too often appear to think that maturing as dramatic actors requires taking on stories awash in sentimentality and treacle ("Patch Adams," anyone?). No matter how much you like a comedian, a quick perusal of IMDB often shows how little of their film work is watchable or enjoyable. Perhaps it is the struggle between maintaining an edge and achieving mainstream success, i. e., becoming a movie star. Here's a test, of sorts: if you're asked to participate in the Academy Awards for any reason or in any role, you are no longer cutting edge. You've made it; let mediocrity ensue!

What an interesting subject. I find I have the same sentimental attachment to favorite comedians as I do to pop stars. Comedians, like pop stars, are getting a rap that what makes them good disappears as they get old. The language here is the same- the performers lose their edge, maybe their lack of self-consciousness. Often true, but not always. I'm thinking of Joan Rivers, W.C. Fields, Jimmy Durante, George Burns, Groucho Marx (I know I'm hopping eras here)- not all the most pleasant personalities, but all fascinating, funny and, yes, angry into their waning years.

Can't think of anyone in their fifties or sixties who is funny who isn't primarily a stand-up comedian, or who hasn't made the rare and successful crossover into drama. Maybe it's something about the way we see youth as such a paramount value today. Some of the above comedians were around in days of yore, where elders lorded it over the young and teenagers weren't the target demographic. I wonder if Groucho Marx, given today's attitudes, would have just hunched his shoulders and gone off into that gentle night if he were around today, rather than host You Bet Your Life?

Perhaps the problem is expecting people to be funny in the context of a feature film. For that to work requires a great script. Maybe the problem is that today's aging comedians who star in Hollywood movies are not given good material to work with. As for the scripts for which they are responsible, as in Albert Brooks, I have no answers for that.