Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip

Richard Pryor Director: Joe Leyton, Joe Layton

Overview

"Joe Layton's documentary of Richard Pryor's comeback performance, Richard Pryor: Live on the Sunset Strip, comes to DVD with a widescreen transfer that preserves the original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.85:1. The closed-captioned English soundtrack is rendered in Dolby Digital Mono. English and Spanish subtitles are accessible. Supplemental materials include production notes and a theatrical trailer. This is arguably one of the top five comedy concert films of all time, and this disc shows every reason why."

Product Details

Release Date:	01/11/2000
UPC:	0043396409095
Original Release:	1982
Rating:	R
Source:	Sony Pictures
Region Code:	1
Presentation:	[Full Frame]
Sound:	[monaural, Dolby Digital]
Language:	English
Time:	1:36:00
Sales rank:	32,393

Special Features

Digitally mastered audio & video; Production notes; Audio: English [mono]; Subtitles: English, Spanish; Theatrical trailer; Interactive menus; Scene selections

Cast & Crew

Performance Credits

Richard Pryor	Himself
Richard Pryor	Primary Artist
Harry Betts	Composer

Technical Credits

Richard Pryor

Joe Leyton	Director
Richard Pryor	Producer,Screenwriter
Joe Layton	Director

Editorial Reviews

Today, most critics rank Richard Pryor's three theatrically-released stand-up films in descending order of interest, in tandem with the chronology. That's generally a fair and reasonable assessment. Sunset Strip ranks right in the middle - neither as brilliant as 1979's Live in Concert (what performance film is?) nor as uneven as 1983's Here & Now. But there is still so much to savor in the 1982 effort, despite its occasional slow spots. Highlights include reminiscences of sex with a Playboy bunny who gets aroused when Pryor talks like a child, and a visit to an Arizona penitentiary where Pryor makes an unsuccessful attempt to "bond" with black mass murderers ("I asked him. 'Why did you kill everyone in the house?!' And he said, 'They was home...'"). Best of all, however, is a segment where Pryor discusses his futile attempt to stick up the psychopathic owners of an Italian Mafia-owned nightclub, as a young man; this passage showcases the comedian's facility with ethnic voices and mimicry on a transcendent level - we're reminded once again of the awesome depth and breadth of his gifts. Curiously, because this particular concert took place after Pryor's notorious 1980 freebasing accident, an extra dimension emerges from the material, that in some ways makes it deeper and more multifaceted than its predecessor (if not quite as funny): the comedian seems more grounded, sustained, and human, here - with an element of sadness (and a concomitant gratefulness to be alive and working again) never far from the surface. Over the years, Pryor took a number of hits for his raunchiness, but most of the routines in this particular concert aren't off-color or dirty on a topical level - despite the comic's blisteringly profane and raw street language that runs throughout. To his credit, he delivers it with a jazzy staccato rhythm that reinforces his stature as the one true heir to Lenny Bruce in the comedic pantheon.