By no stretch of the imagination was comic actor Phil Hartman a major star.
Within the family of “Saturday Night Live,” the vehicle that gave him his first brush with celebrity from 1986-94, there are several performers whose names are recalled before Hartman’s, including John Belushi, Eddie Murphy, Chevy Chase, Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd.
On series television, Hartman wasn’t in the same league with a Jerry Seinfeld or Bill Cosby, a Ted Danson or Tim Allen, talents who lifted their respective comedies to the top of the Nielsen heap. If Hartman was of that caliber, his NBC series “NewsRadio” wouldn’t have had a constant struggle to remain on the air.
The reason Hartman is getting the kind of notice he is attracting is because of the way he died Thursday: allegedly shot to death by his wife Brynn in their Encino, Calif., home before she turned the gun on herself as police escorted their two children from the home.
No, Phil Hartman wasn’t a major star. But he was one of the most dependable, which made him all the more valuable.
The 49-year-old actor could make everyone around him better, which ratcheted the overall level of comedy up a few more notches.
Hartman, he of the ordinary good looks and a voice that could make a carnival barker proud (which he used to great effect on “The Simpsons”), could disappear into a character, find the unique component that made that character so funny, and twist it.
Because few civilians beyond the seclusive Hollywood scene knew the real Phil Hartman, he could submerge himself inside a subject, safe in the knowledge that the baggage of his own persona would not mar the character’s believability.
That’s why Hartman’s Bill Clinton impersonation, which moved him past the many faces on “SNL” into a prominent position in the cast, was such a scream. Sure, it helped that the scratchy Southern voice matched Clinton’s as well as it did. But the sly looks, knowing nods and leering smiles that Hartman brought to his Clinton sold the character.
Or consider the way he brought Johnny Carson’s “Tonight Show” sidekick Ed McMahon to life. There, Hartman didn’t even sound a whole lot like McMahon. But he didn’t have to. All he needed was that bursting “Yessss!” — which one barely remembers the real McMahon ever uttering — coupled with the befuddled look that comes from drinking just a little too much, that made the character a hit.
(Whenever you hear someone voicing McMahon catch phrases “Yessss!” or “You are correct, sir!” they’re not impersonating Ed McMahon. They’re doing an impersonation of Phil Hartman doing an impersonation of Ed McMahon.)
Hartman, like Aykroyd, was the essence of a team player, donning wigs and getups to get more in character in the interest of improving the sketch, not for the selfish glory of an individual performance –in contrast to the behavior of several past “SNL” members.
With his talent and relative popularity, he could have written his own ticket for a star turn in a television sitcom. But Hartman — who left a career in graphic design in the 1970s in favor of show business, hooking up with the Groundlings, the Los Angeles sketch comedy troupe whose members included Paul “Pee-wee Herman” Reubens and fellow “SNLers” Jon Lovitz and Julia Sweeney — continued with the ensemble format by joining “NewsRadio.”
He never overpowered the other performers on the series, which is set in the studios of a frantic New York news radio station. But as the pompous, overbearing, egotistical and slightly bizarre anchor Bill McNeal, Hartman, as usual, made everyone around him funnier.
As a result, “NewsRadio,” while not one of the most-watched comedies on the air, is one of the wittiest. That was due in no small part to Hartman’s generosity and unselfishness. Though it wasn’t designed as a starring vehicle for him, the comedy will suffer without him.
In a May 7 interview with the Tribune, Hartman didn’t sound like he was suffering. He was friendly, warm and funny, even though he was talking about the apparent demise of “NewsRadio,” which NBC was later to renew, to the surprise of many in the TV industry.
Hartman was cheerful that day because he knew that even if the show was a goner, he was still blessed.
“In the overall spectrum of human careers, I have what is, I’m sure, in the top 1 percent of the world’s most fun jobs,” Hartman said. “I’ve made money beyond my wildest dreams. I have every toy I’ve ever wanted, I have a beautiful home. Plus all of the important things, the wife and the two perfect kids. I’ve got every reason to be happy.”
Hartman understood his responsibility to the show and its fans — to go out there and make people laugh “whether we’re No. 5 (in the ratings) or No. 85.”
“My experience of doing the show is still the same. It’s still a blast to go to work every week, get a new script on its feet, rehearse it, do it in front of an audience, have a party and go home. It’s fun every time.”
That sounds about as unselfish as you can get.
