PRUNE DANISH []
At the Royale Theater, 242 W. 45th St.; (212) 239-6200.
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JACKIE Mason returned to Broadway last night with a program called, for some inexplicable reason, “Prune Danish.”
In this wonderfully garrulous and sweetly entertaining new show, he lives up to his reputation as one of the funniest men on earth.
One is tempted to leave it at that. Since it’s not fair to steal a man’s jokes, let’s center on the style and manner of the man telling them.
Fundamentally, there are two kinds of comedians: the Jack Bennys who are funny in themselves, and the Bob Hopes who simply crack wise.
Mason is a rare mixture of the two. With his scrunched-up shoulders, airy command, cocksure combativeness and observations of mankind and its ethnic foibles, he seems a comic in the Benny mold.
But unlike Benny, he offers specific jokes, almost in the fast patter manner of Hope. And never far away is the concept of the old Catskill resort master of ceremonies figure, the Borscht Belt tummler.
Mason really is wickedly acute about attitudinal differences between WASPs and Jews, which, as half of each, I can doubly identify with.
Just listen to his demonstration of how a Jew measures the size of room, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, while the WASP simply takes out a tape measure.
Mason’s whole take on the frequent lemming-like craziness of human behavior is a joy to recognize, but many of his lighthearted insults land on the patrons in the front row.
Yet even if you find yourself the brunt of his barbs, you’d have to be pretty thin-skinned to be offended.
For unlike most insult-comedians, there’s a sweet compassion about him that takes the edge off his most outrageous roast-like remarks.
He’s smart-assed, rude, incisive – and ultimately lovable. Go figure!
And how refreshing it is to find a Broadway show that lists as many legal counsels as producers.