ENTERTAINMENT
LARRY DERFNER
Special to The Jewish News
T
Robby Berman: Squeaky clean and friendly.
`Take
IN/
Please'
A young, Orthodox comedian from
New York finds a niche in Israel.
el Aviv — If you want
a picture of the Ameri-
cans who have settled
in Israel, particularly in
Jerusalem, catch Robby Ber-
man's act.
Robby, a pleasant-faced,
25-year-old from Long Island
who made aliya in 1989, is
Israel's only American come-
dian. He is also the only co-
median of any sort in this
country who works in a
kippa. He is also, with hard-
ly any doubt, the only young
comedian here who never tells
a dirty joke, or utters a dirty
word, or insults politicians, or
says anything, for that mat-
ter, that might offend anyone.
Robby likes it that way, and
so do his audiences, most of
whom are basically like him
— American, modern Ortho-
dox, Jerusalemites.
He took his one-man show,
"Welcome to Robby's World,"
to Beit Leissin, a comedy club
in sinful, secular Tel Aviv one
recent Saturday night. It's a
safe bet that there were never
so many men wearing knitted
kippot, and women wearing
berets, in a Thl Aviv night-
club.
"My mother was probably
the only woman who ever
gave a party for her son's
aliya — after he left." Robby
opens the show in a strait-
jacket and electric-pink cap,
which he wears sideways in an
attempt to look goofy.
He's playing Rob-Bob, "the
psychotic character we all
keep inside ourselves," rant-
ing about what a hard time he
gets from everyone. Eyes
bugged out, he cackles mad-
ly after every joke, sounding
like a nice Jewish boy trying
to cackle madly. No one is
laughing — maybe an embar-
rassed chuckle here and there.
Robby bops offstage and
comes back in a monk's robe,
playing Brother Bob, reading
altered texts from the Old
and New Thstaments. "When
Moses saw the bush that
burned but would not con-
sume, Moses said, 'I better
stop smoking what I'm smok-
ing.' Ibmorrow evening I will
be speaking about the evils of
gambling, after our weekly
Bingo game?'
If the lines aren't getting
much better, Robby is more
relaxed now, and his character
is more palatable. The cus-
tomers are beginning to enjoy
themselves, and one Israeli
guy is really busting a gut —
maybe to show how well he
understands English.
Robby finishes the show as
himself — Robby Berman,
neatly dressed in a tie and
kippa, telling jokes that are
dear to the hearts of new im-
migrants: aliya jokes, first
day in the army jokes, how-
about-this-nutty-country-
(that-we-all-love) jokes. He
also tells what it's like to be
an Orthodox Jewish come-
dian.
He gets off his best line of
the night: "I was performing
in Dallas, and the emcee saw
my kippa and couldn't figure
out how to introduce me. And
now here's a person . •. .uh .. .
whose people killed your
Messiah, Robby Berman.' "
Then he goes and kills it: "I
took my face and slammed it
into his fist."
But people are laughing at
most everything now, and
everybody seems to love Rob-
by, especially a couple of
American girls near the stage
who've probably developed a
crush on him.
The crowd goes out happy.
This was the early show — it
ended at 10:45 p.m., and on
their way out they pass the
Israelis lined up for the late
show — not a kippa among
them, plenty of lipstick,
flashy, aggressive 1b1 Aviv
clothes, and cool expressions.
The natives were waiting to
hear one of their own — an
Israeli comic who would prob-
ably talk about nothing but
sex, politics, money and the
general rottenness of life.
That's what Israelis talk
about. The comedians give it
back to them as humor, and
the laughter in the clubs can
reach screaming pitch. Robby
doesn't care for this sort of
comedy at all.
"It totally turns me off. I
don't get into it, I don't enjoy
it. But who knows, after
another 30 years here, maybe
I'll become a cynical come-
dian, too. I hope not."
We're talking at a sidewalk
cafe in the Jewish Quarter of
Jerusalem's Old City, and a
couple of Robby's fans and
potential fans pass by.
"How'd the show go?" asks
a Ibrah instructor. "Great,"
says Robby.
A woman wearing a sheitel
asks in a thick New York ac-
cent, "Do I know you?"
"I'm Robby Berman," he
says.
"Oh, yes," she nods, "I've
seen your posters."
After the woman leaves,
Robby explains, "I know a lot
of people. I network a lot."
He's one of those super-
achiever types. Besides sell-
ing out Jerusalem theaters
and traveling around the
country with his show, he's
preparing to be ordained as a
rabbi, studying for his mas-
ter's in Jewish studies, acting
(no kissing scenes for him)
and making short films on
Jewish themes. As for his
future in comedy, he says, "I
will make it my business that
every English-speaking per-
son in Israel will hear of me
and want to see my show."
"I like to make
people feel
comfortable."
—Robby Berman
Robby believes he's the
kind of person these people
can identify with. "I'm reli-
gious, I've made aliya, I've
done the army, I'm commit-
ted to Judaism." And, he
says, he's got the right
temperament to appeal to the
Anglo aliya audience. "I'm a
very pareve person. I like to
get along with people, I like
to make people feel comfor-
table."
Can you imagine any other
comedian saying such a
thing? Yet in Robby's world,
it's a winning attitude.
Robby's got his eye on one
more market — the UJA
"missions" to Israel. He'd be
perfect for them, he says.
"I'm the paradigm of a nice
Jewish boy trying to make it
in Israel."
He asked me to point out
that UJA visitors wishing to
see his show should tell their
tour organizers in advance of
their trip, so arrangements
can be made.
UJAers, take my word for
it: you'll love him. ❑
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
59