Read the Playboy.com review of
the movie The Aristocrats.

 
By Penn Jillette, as told to Rob. Walton

The purposefully profane documentary The Aristocrats stars nearly 100 comics rhapsodizing over the filthiest, most offensive joke ever told. Co-director Penn Jillette (the speaking half of the Penn & Teller comedy duo) explains, "There's nothing more American than the dirty joke, really. This is a country built on freedom of speech, and there was not a Fourth of July celebration that did not have someone telling a dirty joke." This particular joke, best described as a provocative free-form jazz riff combined with a game of chicken, is a holdover from the old vaudeville circuit. Book-ended by the same set-up and punch line, the middle of the joke is filled with the most scatological, violent, sexual, tasteless imagery from the darkest Freudian recesses of the teller's mind. Where you take it is up to you (and your audience). Nobody knows how to tell "The Aristocrats" better than Jillette, who recorded more than 80 comedians, from Robin Williams and Chris Rock to George Carlin and Don Rickles, doing their versions. Here's his advice on how to do your patriotic duty and pass along "The Aristocrats":

Establish the Set-Up:
"A guy walks into a talent agent's office and says, 'I've got a terrific act for you.' The agent says, 'What's that act?'" And then you riff.

Know Your Audience
You have to decide what room you're in. If you're telling it for the Amish, then the guy flicks on and off the light switch, he uses radio remote and drives around the corner in the car. If you're doing it for a Muslim audience, then the woman uncovers her face and shows her ankles. If you're dealing with an audience that's more jaded, you keep going further and further. If you think you have an audience whose taboos are scatological, you go there. If you think the taboos are sexual, you go there. If you think the taboos are racial and P.C., you go there. Whatever you think the taboos are you just, as George Carlin says, pull a few people across the line. Just let them find out where their lines are.

Go the Distance
What makes it bad is a lack of awareness of your audience or a lack of awareness of yourself. Every successful telling comes from the heart, is very aware of the room that it's in, and is able to just keep pushing the envelope. You've got to go too far. You have to know who you're working for. If you're working for someone at home, like my sister for whom the words "hell" or "damn" turn her off completely, then you have to just edge it a little bit. You might want to say they pee on the floor. Whatever the little bit is that pushes them over the line.

Crossing the Line
You can't reel it back in. You only know you've gone the right distance when they're laughing their asses off. You can't un-ring the bell.

Wear Out Your Welcome
Most people just riff on it. Bob Saget once did 45 minutes. Forty-five minutes from that set-up to the punch line! Gilbert Godfried did longer than that. Once in a while, Charlie Parker would just send the bass player, the keyboard player and the drummer home. Most people make it up as they go, and read the audience.

Rules Are Made to Be Broken
Some people have strict rules about never repeating yourself. But there are no rules. This is a folk tradition. So the rules that we have are rules that are gleaned. Nobody ever wrote down the rules for an F-major blues.

Nail the Punch Line
It's a simple switch, that's all there is to it. It's a high-load joke. It's a switch, a 180-degree turn. "The agent says, 'What do you call an act like that?'.... 'The Aristocrats!'" The important thing is that it's a real celebration. The person who's doing these acts has no awareness that it's crossed any line. "The Aristocrats!" It helps a lot to do Drew Carey's ["Ta-da!"] arm gesture.

We obviously don't think the punch line is important because we named the movie the punch line. It's like calling it "To Get to the Other Side." We've totally eviscerated the joke before the movie starts.