‘George Carlin’s American Dream’ Review: A Comprehensive & Incisive Exploration Of Carlin’s Political Comedy

No one would accuse Judd Apatow of being a concise writer or director. When he is at his best — “Knocked Up,” “Funny People” — his runtimes allow characters to develop and breathe, creating lived-in worlds. Yet, recently, that same penchant for listless pacing has shown its limitations, especially in his most recent film, “The Bubble.” His documentary work has been similarly languid in its pacing, but also showcases a deep ethnographic affinity for the world of stand-up comedy. Following up his 2018 “The Zen Diaries of Garry Shandling,” Apatow and co-director Michael Bonfiglio’s expansive HBO documentary “George Carlin’s American Dream” may run close to four hours, but it’s also Apatow’s most politically incisive work to date.

Using interviews with Carlin and his contemporaries and fans — Colbert, Seinfeld, Chris Rock, Bill Burr, Kevin Smith, Patton Oswalt, etc. — Apatow and Bonfiglio both showcase a comprehensive portrait of the famed comic, while also arguing that his preternatural ability to cut to the heart of American politics makes his stand-up just as important today as it was during his forty-plus year run. While mainly a cradle-to-grave portrait of Carlin, ‘American Dream’ is also centered around his gradual turn towards left-leaning political commentary. Further, his family life and addictions are explored mainly through interviews with his daughter Kelly Carlin.

For those who only associate Carlin as the white-haired foul-mouthed hippie comic that he was during the ‘90s and early ’00s, ‘American Dream’ is organized around the many phases of Carlin’s career. The first episode roughly tracks his childhood, his Lenny Bruce worship, his suit-and-tie comedy routine with Jack Burns, through his meteoric rise during the 1970s which coincided with his hippie-like demeanor and steady integration of political material in his routines. Apatow and Bonfiglio touch on everything from his famed “seven dirty words” routine — and the Supreme Court case that it spurred — to his role hosting the first “Saturday Night Live.” The second episode picks up as Carlin faces waning popularity in the ‘80s before he re-emerges in the ‘90s as the definitive counter-culture comic, helped in part by his roles in “Bill & Ted” and “Dogma.” 

Throughout, the sheer amount of material that Carlin produced is foregrounded. We see snippets of various shows and routines, with him seemingly having a set of jokes about every political issue there is. His work ethic is incomparable, and also speaks to his addictive personality — a decent amount of screentime is dedicated to his cocaine addiction, often told throughout his routines and by Kelly. As various comics describe, Carlin leaned into every issue and often had a cutting remark or two for anything that America was — and still is — dealing with, often at the expense of governmental institutions and conservative politicians, making it all the stranger that his words have often been co-opted by both political parties, considering his well-documented liberalness.

While the first three or so hours are fascinating, they are also routine, working through Carlin’s interviews to give ample time to each decade he performed in. Yet, in the fourth hour, the film culminates in a frenzied montage that juxtaposes Carlin’s routines — about policing, abortion rights, drug culture, climate change, and homelessness — against contemporary political acts. While it’s a bit jarring to see the BLM protests overlaid with Carlin’s set about racist policing, it also hammers home Apatow and Bonfiglio’s central thesis. Carlin’s work was of a particular moment, often specific in calling out members of the Reagan Administration, for example. But, it also speaks to universal truths about the American experience, namely that we are continually grappling with the same issues as thirty or forty years ago.  

While Carlin was more focused on talking about what he was against than actually presenting a cohesive alternative, it becomes plainly obvious that, as Chris Rock states at one point, Carlin was the equivalent of a modern-day philosopher and that Apatow has found a new direction as the preeminent historian of stand-up. [A-]