"Pickles are funny."

The notion first struck me during the recent revival of Neil Simon's "The Sunshine Boys" on Broadway. In a whirl of metatextualism enough to dizzy half the faculty of Brown, the roles of Willie Clark and Al Lewis were played by Jack Klugman and Tony Randall, respectively. Who could resist an opportunity to witness this perfect pair perform this perfect play, by this specific wink-wink author. We guffawed with the familiar lines ("K's are funny"), but midway through the first act we couldn't help but notice that Klugman (or, "The Klug", as I had been referring to him as we awaited the lights to dim) was kinda-sorta going through the motions, not giving it his all. And it was difficult to hear many of his lines. Lucky for me, I'd seen the 70's movie version with Walter Matthau, George Burns and Richard Benjamin so many times that the dialogue was better known to me than the books of the bible.

Intermission comes and goes and we all settle in for Act Two. With the house lights still up, Tony Randall comes out, in costume, to a smattering of confused applause. He stands in front of the curtain, which, mind you, is decorated with mementoes of the vaudeville of "Lewis and Clark." Randall welcomes us all to the theater, and thanks us for coming. He talks about the theater itself, how it was once called something else, and the old managers of it back then. He makes a remark about how preferable it was to perform there instead of the Bellasco Theater, whose managers were so miserly they'd reduce your fee depending on how much food you ate backstage. Which reminds him of the first time he worked with Jack Benny. After a lengthy description of what a coup it was for Randall to work with Benny at that point in his young career, he begins to recount a leg of a traveling show they once did. It was somewhere in the mid-west, where performances were always under the threat of a quick shut-down due to tornadoes. Randall goes on and on about how Benny would often be racing his sets against the weather, hoping to hit the halfway mark before it was too dangerous to continue. If the halfway mark was hit, Benny figured, the audience would be too far entertained to be audacious enough to ask for their money back.

This man is a professional

And with that, Randall effortlessly remarks that Jack Klugman has the flu, will be replaced by an understudy, and none of us will be getting our money back either. This was met with a riotous round of laughter (bigger than any so far in Simon's script) and a full-on standing ovation. Indeed, it must have been the most warm welcoming for an understudy in the history of Broadway. Based on my recount above, you may think us all nuts for reacting so wildly to a plea for "no-refunds." But you see, it wasn't just what he said, it was how he said it. For Tony Randall still has it. He is a Real Professional, an Honest To God Entertainer (hereinafter referred to as HTGE.) He knows just how much schmaltz to lay on, then carefully adds a dab more when you're not looking.

You can't learn to be an HTGE. You can't walk into a deli, buy a pastrami sandwich, and ingest how to work a room. It needs to be in you; it needs to be real. It is the love of the spotlight not for glory's sake, but for entertainment's sake. Irony is used sparingly--the wise, occasional zetz of irony can never be the chief selling point. It's gotta be about the glow.

Since Tony Randall's performance, I've been wondering if anyone in the entertainment field will hold the torch after the real menches like Tony Randall are gone. Here are a list of what I feel to be the Top Real Performers in each of their chosen fields, who aren't on the verge of dropping dead.

There's no room he can't play to

The Comic: Billy Crystal
I won't lie and say I like all his work, but this man exudes the code of the HTGE each time he opens his mouth. He was the only one to bring endings to his SNL sketches, oftentimes the bittersweet, semi-serious ones with a slow fadeout. His Oscar night Best-Picture numbers may've made you wince from high exposure to hokey-tude, but they were always done with excitement, pizzaz, and just a bissel irony. And like Jerry Lewis before him, he is associated with a cause (Comic Relief) and a crew (Robin, Whoopi, "Meathead"). His crew is the creamiest, sugariest, and schmaltziest in Hollywood, and Billy is surely their ringleader. What's more is that he respects his elders and knows his heritage. His film Mr. Saturday Night is a poem to sap, but a little dark, proving that one can keep the flame without being a total bore.

What a gal!

The Singer: Bette Midler
No one puts on a more lively show than this Hawaiian Jew-Goddess. Bette has an unlimited energy reserve, quick wit, dirty mind, substantial rack, serious set of pipes, and the love of tha gay community. Bette surely paved the way for acts like Madonna, Bernadette Peters, and Queen Latifah, but the thing about Bette is that her music is actually enjoyable. The jazz arrangements on her album "The Divine Miss M" show a vocal alacrity unmatched in today's crop of VH-1 "Divas." Of course, her crew includes the one and only Barry Manilow, as well as Goldie et al. Her acting work has always come second to her stage for me, but films like The Rose and even For The Boys show just how much Bette is willing to give to her adoring fans, and she always does it right. She is a class act all the way. And yes, I am ignoring "Wind Beneath My Wings" for the purposes of this article.

Lucky for you, we couldn't find a picture of this behind-the-scenes man

The Filmmaker: James L. Brooks
Webster's suggests "see Terms of Endearment" under their definition of schmaltz. It tugs at the heartstings with all the subtlety of a frantic train passenger spotting two dozen nuns strapped to the tracks. All of Brooks' work, including "The Mary Tyler Moore Show", Broadcast News and even As Good As It Gets smartly sticks to very basic human emotions and problems. Life, Death and Love are enough to keep Brooks' pen busy, and his characters are always striving for the very basic virtue of happiness. The obstacles can often be soap opera-ish, but the performances and characters are usually real enough to keep you believing and crying with them. Also, Brooks never shies away from letting his characters cry onscreen (Broadcast News practically opens this way), which is always a gamble with audiences. So far, we've been eating it up. His posse includes Albert Brooks (no relation), Tracey Ullman & her Simpsons crew (Shearer, Kavner et al.), Cameron Crowe, Wes Anderson & Owen Wilson, and Jack Nicholson. Brooks winks heavy to the code of professionalism in the news theme scene in Broadcast News ("And the strings take the melody!!!!", "I got chills.") which ranks as one of the top ten funniest scenes in all of movie-dom.

There's no heartstring he hasn't tugged

The Composer: Randy Newman
In the two decades between creating somber song cycles like "Good Old Boys" and Bad Love that, frankly, only critics like, Mr. Randy Newman has firmly situated himself as a key "friend to the industry", another important aspect of being a Real Professional. He's also scored some of our most memorable schmaltz movie moments, when entertainment has looked us squarely in the eyes and dared us not to be moved. Roy Hobbes hitting the homer in The Natural? Would it have made half the impact without that music pushing it over the backfield wall? And how about this little phrase: "I came to America in 1914." Yes, Armin Meuller-Stahl's walk through an imaginary yesterday in Avalon was to the tune of Newman, and just one note of it brings tears to my eyes. (At this point I should mention that Barry Levinson was a close second for James L. Brooks' filmmaking prize.) Randy, too, has a crew, among them Lenny Waronker, Bonnie Raitt, Linda Rondstadt, and Van Dyke Parks, as well as the whole Lorne Michaels gang. As for a legacy, it is well documented that his family practically invented movie music (his uncle wrote the 20th Century Fox fanfare, for God's sake!), so Randy, like Billy, is well aware what it means to be carrying the HTGE torch.

So where's Dana Carvey lately, huh?

The TV Personality: Regis Philbin
Okay, don't get crazy, hear me out. Firstly, I am aware that he isn't much younger than Tony Randall, but his new game show "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" is so popular that he probably has a Q rating higher than the post-Eyes Wide Shut Tom Cruise. Secondly, you think you hate Regis. You don't. You actually hate her and are letting that bleed over into Regis just by osmosis. Thirdly, I needed at least one gentile on this list. Now, as for the man himself, he is quick. And he works the room. He doesn't back down from confrontation, always is first to poke fun at himself, and can carry a tune. Plus, he's one of the only people left competently working in live television. The widespread acceptance of Regis in his new, sans-Kathi Lee game show role has proved to me the undeniable lovability factor of this silly, witty man. Or, maybe everybody really does just want to be a millionaire.

This kid is gonna be a star!

The TV Guest: Martin Short
There's a rumor going around that this entertainment firecracker actually has his own show now. I don't believe it (or don't have to, as I'm sure it will be canceled before the World Series.) My point is, no one makes a better, non-subversive TV guest than Martin Short. His appearances, particularly on Letterman (who is brilliant and marvelous and a landmark for TV, but certainly not an HTGE), are like an oasis of professionalism in a drab TV desert. He'll run on stage, grab the mike and blast into an old show tune. And, holy smoke, he can sing! And dance! And, what's so right about Marty, is that he'll never say "no" to a fan's request. He'll bring out any of the old characters if his public asks for it, be it his Jerry Lewis, Katherine Hepburn, Sammy Davis Jr., or his own creations like Ed Grimly, or Jackie Rogers Jr., or Irving Cohen, or Brock Lineham. Needless to say, his crew consists of the whole SCTV and SNL team.

So before your crotchety old uncle says there're are no real entertainers out there, memorize this list so you can put that old fuddy-duddy in his place. Granted, no one on this list is all that young, but we still have plenty of time left with these performers before the new crop needs to step up. Looking ahead, though, I'm not all that optimistic. Conan's heart is certainly in the right place, but I question some of his chops. And, save for Andy Dick, the whole Ben Stiller crew can take a walk. These next few years will be crucial for the Kids In The Hall legacy, as they're all coming out with new projects after the disaster that was Brain Candy. Luckily, we know that Bruce McCulloch can sing, and that Dave Foley looks good in a dress. But as TV turns mostly into Leeza or The Wood-Whittle Channel, I question how much of a platform a well-rounded Honest To God Entertainer will have to show his wares. The market is veering more toward specialization; it looks grim.

Then again, sound killed the flickers, so what the hell do I know!??! Strike up the band!!