‘Steve! (Martin) A Documentary in 2 Pieces‘ review: From wild and crazy to wry and wise

Apple TV’s ‘Steve! (Martin) A Documentary in 2 Pieces’ delves into the comedic genius and private life of Steve Martin.

In Morgan Neville’s insightful sketch on the ever-charismatic Steve Martin, we are treated to a two-pronged exploration of a man who spends the better half of the docuseries’ runtime doing R Crumb’s absurd Keep On Truckin’ walk; a man who insists that prolonged segments of ‘high-speed babbling’ are the culmination of advanced logic and philosophy. Divided into two distinct segments, Apple TV’s Steve! (Martin) A Documentary in 2 Pieces deftly navigates through the life of the eponymous comic veteran, from his early days as a “wild and crazy guy” to his more introspective present.

With a blend of absurdity, intellect, and a dash of banjo-playing charm, Steve Martin carved a path through the entertainment world unlike anyone else. From his humble beginnings as a struggling magician to his reign as the ‘King of Comedy’, we see Martin try desperately to convince us that he “had no talent”; and that his act was so “aggressively stupid”, that it was a wonder that he ever paved his way to success.

Yet, through a combination of archival footage, family photos, sweaty stage notes and Martin’s own narration, it becomes increasingly obvious that his ascent to comedic stardom was nothing short of meteoric. Neville skillfully deconstructs Martin’s comedic style, emphasising a departure from political humour in favour of a unique brand of clean, absurd comedy, or as Martin puts it, a free-form laughter — the sort “you have with your friends, with your sides aching” or the kind that is ridiculous enough to make you go, “I don’t know why it was funny, but it was”.

In the 1970s, armed with only a white suit and Groucho glasses, he took the stand-up circuit by storm. His routines, a frenetic mix of physical comedy and razor-sharp observations, left audiences gasping for breath and clamouring for more. As one of the interviewees aptly put it, “his act was not comedy. It was about the absurdity of performing and the ridiculousness of people standing in front of other people being funny”. With classic bits like ‘Excuuuse Me!’ and ‘The Great Flydini’, Martin became a household name practically overnight, earning the title of one of the most successful stand-up comedians of all time.

But Martin was never one to rest on his laurels; sensing a new frontier beckoning, he made the bold leap into the world of Hollywood. However, though he showcased a versatility that few comedians could match, his metamorphosis was met with ridicule, making way for a sombre period in his life. A quick cutaway video clipping featured a cruel exchange with the press that encapsulated his waning sense of self — “Hey Steve, why aren’t you funny any more?”.

In the second half of the docuseries, Neville paints a more intimate portrait of Martin with a bold departure from his style of storytelling. Though the transition is hardly seamless, we now abruptly cut to the present, where an older, greyer Martin seems entirely satisfied feasting on his poached eggs.

Eschewing the trappings of celebrity, Martin maintained a fiercely private life, often retreating to his art-filled oasis away from the prying eyes of Hollywood. Through candid interviews with Martin himself, as well as his wife Anne Stringfield and industry big-wigs, we get a (slight) glimpse into the vulnerabilities of Martin’s transition from stand-up to film, which much to the dismay of Father of the Bride or Bowfinger fans, are frustratingly reduced to mere “anecdotes” from his career.