'Being There"

At this point I'm almost breathlessly looking forward to the sit-com. We're taking it all too seriously. Where are the belly laughs? All I hear is cynicism and outrage. Where is the updated version of "Being There"? "Life is a like a box of chocolates", after all. What's the sense of crashing if we can't get that blessed adrenaline rush? Unless we've lost confidence in the air bag (with the Chinese union label attached).

From what I've read, Groucho and his brothers never used a script or teleprompter. They made it up as they went along. They were hugely successful in their day. Obama, the Ballerina and all the Marxist czars have all the makings of a hilarious circus act. How come we're not splitting our sides laughing?

Maybe we've outgrown slapstick. Maybe, we're looking for thrills and chills - seeing our hero dangling off the hands of a clock some thirty stories up, à la Harold Lloyd? And I'll never forget that scene in "Limelight" in which Chaplin and Keaton played music together. And Laurel and Hardy's "The Music Box". They all flirted with disaster - and we simply loved it.