I admit it! I confess! The title got me. Only peripherally aware of Ms. Silverman's career as a comedienne, I scooped up The Bedwetter and was not disappointed. Her humor is as raunchy as it is blue, so fair warning to those inviting themselves cold into her smutty world of whacky relatives, drug-fuelled late nights, and the crazy screwups endemic to comedy.
Inevitably, there's plenty of massaging in comedy memoirs, time to punch up ones material, trim some unnecessary fat from a story, or add a few embellishments to tighten it up. And yet, while Ms. Silverman brings her talent to bear on her readers, the essence of the real woman peeks through. Humorists the world over seem to have one thing in common, an insane childhood and Ms. Silverman was no exception. Her depiction of her nutty father absolutely steals the show, making it clear that at least some of her talent was arrived at naturally. Ms. Silverman traces her life in humor, from expletive-laden rants as a child, to mainstream success, accomplishing this without descending into narcissistic self-indulgence which is harder than it might seem. We're left with the impression of a woman fully living an unconventional life, a woman who has fun playing with the skeletons in her closet. Charm is surely a key aspect to comedy and it's clear that, in her own singular way, Ms. Silverman has it in spades.
Short, enjoyable funny and dirty. Don't we all like it that way? (3/5 Stars)
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