Arts & Entertainment
The YouTube Woody Allen
Yuri Baranovsky may just be the funny Jewish nerd of the new millennium.
Liel Leibovitz
The Jewish Week
T
he history of more or less all of
America's great Jewish comedi-
ans reads more or less the same:
a weird-looking kid, one or two genera-
tions removed from the Old Country, has
trouble fitting in, gets by on his wits and
sense of humor, finds his way onto the
radio or on television and becomes a huge
star. That, with slight variation, was what
happened to Milton Berle, Woody Allen
and Lenny Bruce.
And now, it's happening to Yuri
Baranovsky: His sitcom, Break a Leg,
commands nearly 200,000 viewers per
episode. Fans are popping up everywhere,
setting up Web sites to celebrate his work
and writing him adoring e-mails. And the
media is inviting him to comment on the
state of contemporary productions, seeing
in him a bona fide trendsetter.
But look for Break a Leg in TV Guide
and nothing will come up. Baranovsky's
show is not on TV; it's broadcast solely on
the Internet, freely available for download
through a variety of services, including
Apple's iTunes online store. Ever since it
debuted last year, the show has received
one accolade after another, frequently end-
ing up as the most sought-after video on
YouTube.
In an age when TV sitcoms are strug-
gling to reinvent themselves, Baranovsky
and his brother and co-writer Vlad are
putting out an immensely popular, profes-
sionally produced show for just over $200
per episode.
"Even though we have no money," said
Baranovsky, "we have to do whatever we
can to make it look like we do. We were
also very lucky. A friend had one camera,
we borrowed another from other friends,
and we used sets and locations when
we weren't allowed to:' The actors, more
than 10 of them, are all professionals who
work voluntarily on Baranovsky's show,
attracted by the razor-sharp dialogue and
rat-a-tat jokes.
At the center of the show is Baranovsky
himself. He plays David Penn, an aspiring
screenwriter. Even before he opens his
mouth, everything about Baranovsky calls
for a comparison with Woody Allen: Like
the comedic icon, Baranovsky is short,
scrawny and bespectacled — yet awash
with nebbish chic, at once anxious and
hilarious.
558
September 6 • 2007
Ai
the language or knowing
a soul, Baranovsky and
his brother, five years his
senior, grew very close.
f To entertain each other,
they would write stories,
in Russian, mainly funny
stuff, reading them to
each other and laughing
out loud. It was then,
Baranovsky said, that he
knew he wanted to be a
writer.
He wrote all through
college, focusing at first
on playwriting and hav-
ing two plays published
and performed by sev-
eral international theater
troupes.
In the winter of 2004,
Baranovsky learned of
a contest sponsored by
the FX cable channel, a
subsidiary of Fox, award-
ing a monetary prize and
a shot at a production
deal to whoever submit-
ted the most popular
Break a Leg co-creators Yuri and Vied Baranovsky
five-minute sitcom.
Baranovsky and his
And unmistakably Jewish: Repeatedly
brother
were
thrilled;
plays were one thing,
throughout the show, Baranovsky's char-
but
this
was
TV,
and
big
money and fame.
acter either refers to being Jewish or is
They
decided
to
submit
an
entry.
reminded of that fact by any number of
It
was
based
on
an
idea
they'd
had a
offbeat characters, most likely a beret-
few
months
before,
the
story
of
a
young
wearing director, a mustachioed man
screenwriter
named
David
Penn
who
named Jennifer John Bradley.
gets his first break in the business when
"I think my brother and I have a very
another screenwriter mysteriously dies
Jewish sense of humor:' said Baranovsky.
and a shady, insane producer needs new
"And the show has a very Jewish sense of
material right away.
humor, a lot of cynicism and a bit of pok-
"It just popped into my head:' he said
ing fun at yourself"
of
the idea that would eventually become
Emphasizing the Jewish theme is the
the
premise of his show."I wanted to make
show's soundtrack, composed by Vlad
a
dark
show, a dark sitcom. We wanted to
Baranovsky and consisting of furiously
create
a
whole world that was distinctively
fast-paced klezmer riffs, suggesting some-
different
from reality. As it got more ridic-
thing like shtetl music for the MTV age.
ulous,
it
became
a dark satire of how crazy
The same could be said to describe
Hollywood
is
in
real
life:'
Baranovsky's life. Born in Kiev, he fled
It
took
the
Baranovsky
brothers one day
with his family when was 5, traveling
to
shoot
the
five-minute
entry;
hopeful, they
through Austria and Italy before finally
sent
it
to
FX
and
dreamt
of
overnight
glory.
finding their way to San Francisco. "We
It
never
came:
Their
entry
didn't
win
didn't come on a boat or anything:' he
the grand prize. It was not even among the
laughs, "but we definitely had very little
10 highest-ranking runner-ups. But many
money and had to start over."
viewers
loved the Baranovskys' gallows
Baranovsky's father, a musician back in
humor
and
wrote to the brothers, compar-
Ukraine, now had to fix elevators. His moth-
ing
their
creation
to such cult shows as
er, an architect, was unable to find work.
Arrested
Development and
and
The
Office
Alone in a strange land, not speaking
O
-
encouraging them to keep the show alive.
They did, using the do-it-yourself
approach to filmmaking and producing
an entire episode. It was futile, they real-
ized, to shop it around with real television
networks; but with more and more people
turning to online video for news and
entertainment, they decided to put their
content on the Web.
Instrumental in their success was a Web
site called Blip.tv, a self-described "next-
generation television network" that allows
anyone to upload their own original work
(the Baranovskys have since signed with the
marketing company For Your Imagination,
www.foryourimagination.com ).
"We believe anyone with talent, an idea
and a video camera can create the next
Seinfeld or Lost',' said Dina Kaplan, a for-
mer producer for MTV and Blip.tv's chief
operating officer. "It's our job to host and
promote this great original content being
produced in garages and living rooms
across the country."
Baranovsky, she said, was an instant hit.
"Break a Leg proves that Yuri Baranovsky
is the Woody Allen of the Web 2.0," Kaplan
said. "The show is clever, witty and just
neurotic enough to make you believe it
could thrive on film, television or the Web."
But even after posting a few episodes
on Blip.tv and elsewhere, and learning of
their immense popularity, Baranovsky was
nonetheless unprepared for the effects of
Web stardom. "It's very, very strange;' he
said of the thousands of fans who send
him mail, befriend him on social network-
ing sites like MySpace and build Web sites
in his honor.
One such fan is Sarah Gelt, 22, a
Manhattan-based director of development
for a nonprofit organization. She has seen
all of the show's episodes, she said, and
eagerly awaits new ones.
"It's irreverent and clever:' she said,
"with this wild spirit of anarchy. There's
something in it that reminds me of virtu-
ally every Jewish comedian I love: the
craziness of Mel Brooks, the wittiness of
Woody Allen, the silliness of Ben Stiller.
And I can watch it on my iPod whenever
I want. It's much better than most of the
stuff that's on television today."
Episode 3 of Break a Leg comes
out Oct.1. Episodes are available on
www.breakaleg.tv.