Just when it seemed Billy Crystal and Whoopi Goldberg had a lock on the Oscar host thing, along came Steve Martin to shake things up with his debut as emcee in 2001, for which he earned rave reviews. Instead of Billy‘s gags that were more about Billy than anything else (those tired bits where he was superimposed into a nominated movie scene), or Whoopi‘s lame costumes and safe one-liners, a dry, caustic Steve showed the world that if you’re truly funny, such cornball material is so much unnecessary fluff. Thankfully, Martin has been asked back to host the show again this year, and one can only wonder who he’ll poke fun at without Russell Crowe as a nominee.
Great comedic talents like Martin are not only born, they’re also made, so here are seven steps we suspect Martin took on the way to becoming a successful repeat Oscar show host.
No. 1: Get over your childhood
Silver-haired, arrow-in-the-hat-wearing, happy feet-tapping Steve Martin was born in 1945 in Waco, Texas, and was five when his family moved to Garden Grove, Calif. A painfully shy youngster growing up in a WASPy household with a failed actor-turned realtor dad, a housewife mom and an older sister, Martin sold guidebooks at Disneyland and performed magic tricks at parties for money. In the early 1960s he studied philosophy at California State University, Long Beach, then transferred to UCLA to study theater. He dropped out completely after landing a writing job on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour .
I was either going to become a professor of philosophy or a comedian. Then I realized that the only logical thing was comedy because you don’t have to explain it or justify it. — Newsweek, 1977
No. 2: Start with physical comedy and work your way up
Although Martin won a writing Emmy for The Smothers Brothers, comedy writing gave way to his own stand-up comedy performances in which, dressed in a tight suit and bunny ears, he might make skinny balloon animals, play the banjo (quite well), juggle–or even invite the audience to follow him to McDonald’s for a burger.
When I came along in the ’70s comics were so socially conscious, angry and uptight. My lofty idea was that it was time for someone to sacrifice himself to stupidity. That’s what comedy really is, acting stupid so other people can laugh. — Newsweek, 1994
No. 3: Break through with an HBO special
Martin‘s big breakthrough came in 1976 when, after several years of building a stand-up following, he landed two crucial TV opportunities: a live taping of a show at Los Angeles club Troubadour for HBO and a gig hosting NBC’s Saturday Night Live. Suddenly he was performing for 20,000 fans, catchphrases like “Well, excuuuuse me” were everywhere, his joke disco song “King Tut” sold a million copies, and his first movie, The Jerk, would become 1980’s biggest hit.
I had a view that there was something funny about trying to be funny. I needed a theory behind it in order to justify it at the time, but now I don’t. I see it for what it was. It was just fun, and it was stupid and that’s why it was successful. — Rolling Stone, 1982
No. 4: Launch a big-screen career
After The Jerk, Martin starred in the sweet romantic flop Pennies From Heaven, then unleashed a string of comedy hits that would make him huge in the ’80s and prove his longevity as one of cinema’s greatest comic actors. Among them: All of Me, Little Shop of Horrors, Three Amigos!, Roxanne, Planes, Trains and Automobiles, Dirty Rotten Scoundrels and Parenthood.
Starting out in movies, I felt very confident that I could act, because I was too dumb to know better. — Time, 1987
No. 5: Never, ever, sit still
By the early ’90s, beloved and famed not just for his groundbreaking stand-up humor but also for his obvious acting skills and on-screen personality, Martin found time to develop his literary side and hone other aspects of his craft. In addition to the occasional mainstream comedy he took on more serious (albeit less successful) movies, started writing and producing, and wrote his first play, Picasso at the Lapine Agile in 1993. More followed.
First, you work hard to prove you aren’t a flash in the pan. Then you work to show other things you can do. And you write to show something else. It’s showing and showing and showing. And pretty soon, you realize there’s a kind of emptiness left, and it’s traumatic…. And I realized that unless I was continually working, I felt people wouldn’t like me. — Esquire, 1996
No. 6: Change up the image
By the end of the ’90s Martin was acting on stage and in small, serious films like David Mamet‘s The Spanish Prisoner. His turn to straight-man roles in movies like Bowfinger would make some appreciate his acting ability, others long for the hyper-manic, absurdist comic of the early days.
I would say that as you get older, your sense of humor becomes less vicious, at least in my case. Edgy humor is better left to younger people who can afford to be less sensitive. — Film Monthly, 2001
No. 7: Get in good with the Oscar guys
Of his three recent U.S. releases, only this month’s Bringing Down the House has been a major studio film; in fact, his biggest accomplishment of the decade thus far has been his tremendous success on the small screen, beginning with his hosting the 73rd Academy Awards where he took good-natured–though not always well-taken–jabs at his fellow celebrities. But audiences and critics loved him, and so he returns again this year. No doubt he’s got some expected audience members a little nervous.
Ellen Burstyn did something that not many actresses would do for a role in a movie. She made herself look 30 pounds heavier and 20 years older. And Russell Crowe still hit on her. — at the 2001 Oscar ceremony
