Imagine a comedian who could make you laugh until
you cried. then in the very next breath, make
you confront uncomfortable, often brutal truths
about society and yourself. A performer whose
raw honesty felt less like a carefully crafted
bit and more like an unfiltered visceral scream
right from the soul. Yeah, that really captures
it. Richard Pryor was just that singular, unforgettable
force. Absolutely. A man who dared to bring the
deepest parts of his experience, no matter how
painful, really, to the brightest stages. Welcome
back to The Deep Dive, everyone. Today, we are
plunging head first into the extraordinary, often
turbulent, and, well, undeniably influential
life of Richard Franklin Lennox Thomas Pryor.
Quite a name. It is. Born December 1, 1940 in
Peoria, Illinois, and passing away December 10,
2005 in LA. Pryor isn't just a name whispered
in the halls of comedic greatness. He's widely
seen as one of the most significant, most transformative
comedians of all time. No question. We're going
far beyond the punchlines today, beyond the iconic
stand -up specials, to really explore the man
behind the genius, a man known for his trenchant
observations, unparalleled storytelling, and
this almost magical ability to connect with a
broad audience in ways few ever have. Yeah. And
our mission today is really to unpack that rich
and complex tapestry of Pryor's life and career.
We're going to use a detailed look at the available
sources to understand not just what he did, but
why it mattered so profoundly. Exactly. And how.
And how his unique perspective permanently altered
the landscape of comedy and culture really. For
you our listener this deep dive is your shortcut
to being truly well informed about a figure whose
seismic influences still felt acutely today.
Oh absolutely. Offering surprising facts and
those undeniable aha moments that make understanding
history so compelling all without hopefully the
information overload. Definitely. We're going
to embark on a journey through his early, incredibly
challenging beginnings. I mean, the almost unbelievable
environment he grew up in and then meticulously
trace his artistic evolution. It's quite a path.
It really is. We'll watch as he transforms from
a more mainstream sort of conventional performer
into the groundbreaking, fearless and often confrontational
voice he became. We'll delve into his very public
struggles with fame, his harrowing health battles
and the profound personal demons that both fuel
and plagued him. A real duality there. Totally.
Ultimately, we'll examine his monumental and
enduring legacy, a legacy that continues to resonate
decades after his passing. You'll hear about
the deeply personal experiences that fueled his
genius and the specific career milestones that
solidified his irreplaceable place in history.
That's gonna be quite the dive. Let's get into
it with the formative years. Difficult beginning.
Okay, so to truly understand Richard Pryor, we
have to start right at the beginning. And that
beginning was, well, anything but ordinary. Far
from it. It's a childhood that undeniably laid
the raw autobiographical foundation for so much
of his later comedy. He was born December 1st,
1940 in Peoria, Illinois, but his home life was
worlds away from, you know, the idyllic picture
many might imagine. He literally grew up in a
brothel, a brothel vigorously run by his grandmother,
Marie Carter. Think about that. Not just visiting,
but living there. Exactly. This wasn't just a
place he occasionally visited. It was his primary
residence. And within those walls, his mother,
Gertrude L. Thomas, worked as a prostitute and
struggled with alcoholism. While his father,
Leroy Buck Carter Pryor, a former boxer, hustler,
and pimp, added another layer of volatility to
this inc... incredibly turbulent picture. Just
layers upon layers of instability. This wasn't
a stable environment for any child, let alone
a budding comedic mind. After his mother abandoned
him at the tender age of ten. Ten years old.
Yeah. His grandmother Marie essentially became
his primary caregiver. She's often described
in accounts as tall, formidable, and physically
violent. Yeah, not exactly nurturing. No. Apparently
she wasn't shy about beating him, often for what
she saw as his eccentricities, maybe early signs
of his artistic temperament. Could be, or just
a kid. being a kid in an impossible situation.
True. Can you imagine the emotional landscape
of growing up in such a place, seeing the raw
underbelly of life every single day? He was one
of four children raised within the confines of
this brothel. And the trauma didn't stop at the
environment itself, sadly. No, tragically it
didn't. He was sexually abused at just seven
years old. Unbelievable. And later, perhaps unsurprisingly,
expelled from school when he was only 14. That's
an astonishing amount of hardship packed into
such a What's truly fascinating here, though,
from an analytical standpoint, is how these traumatic
early experiences, experiences that might be
hidden or glossed over in other biographies,
they became the very wellspring of his material.
It raises an important question, I think. For
an artist, how much of a comedian's genius is
forged in their earliest struggles and their
ability to, you know... metabolize that pain.
That's a great point. For Prior, it seems the
raw pain, the absurdity, and the vivid, often
shocking, characters of his formative years weren't
just background noise. They became the central,
unflinching characters in his later comedy. He
wasn't just observing life from a distance. He
lived it. Exactly. in the most visceral sense
stripped of societal pretense. And then with
incredible bravery, he brought every last bit
of that lived chaos to the stage, transforming
personal agony into communal truth. It's quite
something. His path didn't exactly smooth out
after leaving school either. No kidding. In fact,
he found himself in another structured yet challenging
environment, the U .S. Army. He served from 1958
to 1960, but interestingly, he spent virtually
his entire stint in an army prison in West Germany.
Yeah, that's a key detail, not just basic training
and out. Right. And this wasn't for some minor
infraction that landed him there. A 1999 profile
in the New Yorker detailed the harrowing incident.
Pryor, along with several other black soldiers,
beat and stabbed a white soldier. Wow. Apparently,
the white soldier had been overly amused by racially
charged scenes in the film Imitation of Life.
Oh, OK. So there was a trigger. Seems so. The
soldier fortunately survived, but Pryor was incarcerated
for the majority of his service, a stark testament
to the consequences of his actions, I suppose.
Well, and this early incident, it really highlights
a deep -seated anger, doesn't it? An almost hypersensitivity
to racial injustice that would become such a
cornerstone of his later, more controversial
com - You can see the scenes right there. Absolutely.
It's an early, visceral indicator of his unwillingness
to shy away from difficult truths, even at immense
personal cost. It shows a young man who, even
then, was deeply affected by the racial dynamics
around him and was prepared to react, maybe violently,
to perceived injustices. Yeah. That force would
later translate into his fearless stage presence.
It's a powerful look into the emotional and psychological
landscape that would come to define his artistic
output, a willingness to confront, even violently,
the ugliness he perceived. Remarkably, even within
these tumultuous early chapters, Pryor was seeking
and finding communities. It hints at this deeper
need for belonging, maybe. That makes sense.
We see this, for instance, in his early affiliations.
He was a member of Henry Brown Lodge No. 22 in
Peoria, where he became a Prince Hall Freemason.
Ah, okay. Prince Hall. Yeah. For those unfamiliar,
Prince Hall Freemasonry is a historically African
-American branch of Freemasonry established when
black men were excluded from other Masonic lodges.
Right, offering that brotherhood and structure.
Exactly. It offered a sense of brotherhood, community,
and moral structure, perhaps a real contrast
to the chaos of his upbringing. And maybe a place
where his eccentricities were less target for
violence, and more a sign of individuality within
a supportive, if, you know, secretive network.
A fascinating counterpoint to the rest of his
early life. Yeah. Early career. The genesis of
a legend. So by 1963, a significant shift happens
geographically and artistically. prior moves
to New York City. Right into the thick of it.
Absolutely. And bursting himself in the burgeoning
comedy scene of the time. This was a pivotal
moment. He began performing regularly in clubs
alongside other future legends, cultural icons
like Bob Dylan, who was making his mark in the
folk scene, and Woody Allen, who was also honing
his neurotic, intellectual, comedic style. Can
you imagine the energy in those rooms? Seriously.
The raw talent, the ambition buzzing in those
smoky, intimate clubs during that era, it must
have been electric. Definitely. However, it was
far from an overnight success, and he certainly
wasn't the fearless Pryor we'd later know. Not
yet. No, not at all. Nina Simone, the legendary
singer and pianist, shared a particularly telling
recollection from one of his first nights. He
opened for her at New York's Village Gate. Right.
I remember reading this. She described his extreme
nervousness before performances, saying, and
I quote, He shook like he had malaria. He was
so nervous. I couldn't bear to watch him shiver.
So I put my arms around him there in the dark
and rocked him like a baby until he calmed down.
Wow. Rocked him like a baby. Night after night,
she said. Offering him comfort and reassurance.
That anecdote from Nina Simone is incredibly
revealing, isn't it? It shows us the deep vulnerability
and frankly profound performance anxiety behind
the budding artist. A total contrast to later.
A stark contrast to the fearless, almost confrontational
stage presence he would later cultivate. It makes
you wonder how many early artists struggle with
that intense level of trepidation before they
truly find their voice and own their stage. Yeah.
For Prior, this initial nervousness makes his
eventual metamorphosis into a comedic titan even
more profound. It wasn't an inherent fearlessness,
you see. It was a bravery earned through struggle,
a battle he fought backstage before ever uttering
a word. Wrestling with his own potential. Exactly.
Haunted by the specter of failure. or perhaps
even more so, the fear of revealing his true
self. Initially, his comedic style was quite
different from the raw, explosive persona he
eventually became known for. Oh yeah, very different.
He began as what's often been called a middle
brow comic, largely inspired by the clean, observational
humor of Bill Cosby. The Cosby influence was
huge early on. In this phase, Prior presented
a much less controversial, more palatable version
of himself. Imagine a performer charming audiences
with universal, relatable, observational humor,
focusing on everyday themes rather than the raw,
cutting edges of his own life. The suit, the
clean jokes. Right. Prior was initially a master
of this, appearing impeccably dressed, delivering
punchlines with a polished, almost sanitized
precision that completely masked the tempest
brewing within. It's hard to even picture now.
This more conventional approach earned him regular
spots on major TV variety shows, big ones. The
Ed Sullivan show, the Merv Griffin show, the
Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson. So he was
getting noticed, playing the game. Definitely.
His burgeoning popularity even led to considerable
success in the vibrant club scene of Las Vegas,
the pinnacle of mainstream entertainment at the
time. Vegas was the goal for many back then.
Some of his earliest recordings, specifically
the first five tracks on that 2005 compilation,
Evolution Revolution. The early years, 1966,
1974, they beautifully capture prior in this
period, showcasing this more conventional style
from 66, 67. Right before the big shift. He even
had a guest star appearance on the Western series,
The Wild Wild West in 1966, playing a character
called Barman. Ah, didn't know that one. So you
can see he was on a clear trajectory, right,
to be a very successful but perhaps conventional,
comedian. Fitting the mold. He was fitting into
the molds provided, gaining traction, popularity.
But then, as often happens with truly groundbreaking
artists, something seismic shifted. Ah, here
we go. Here's where it gets really interesting.
Where the mask began to crack and the true Richard
Pryor started to emerge. Third, breakthrough
and transformation. Finding his voice. This moment.
It's legendary. A radical, life -altering turning
point. Absolutely. Not just for his career, but
for his whole artistic and personal identity.
September 1967, performing at the Aladdin Hotel
in Las Vegas. Vegas again, but different this
time. Totally different. Dean Martin is famously
in the audience. Prior stops mid -set, looks
out at the sold -out crowd, pauses, and then
with this electrifying force just yells into
the microphone, what the fuck am I doing here?
And then just... walks off stage, leaves the
audience stunned. It was this profound act of
self -rejection, wasn't it? Rejecting that Cosby
-esque persona he'd been painstakingly cultivating.
A dramatic statement. He just couldn't do it
anymore. It felt inauthentic. Exactly. Yeah.
Afterward, this internal revolution quickly manifested
externally. Prior began incorporating profanity
into his act with a vengeance. Uh -huh. Including
the big one? Including, most controversially,
the word nigger. His 1968 debut album, Richard
Pryor, released on Dover Prize, is a vital recording.
It captures this immediate evolution reflecting
the raw, unfiltered aftermath of this transformative
moment. You hear the change? And adding to his
profound personal struggles during this transitional
period, both his parents passed away in quick
succession, his mother in 67, his father in 68.
Wow, all at the same time. grief and artistic
liberation colliding. Must have deepened his
already complex emotional landscape incredibly.
Yeah, this epiphany, it wasn't just a career
move, it was profound personal and artistic liberation.
It highlights how some artists must absolutely
shatter expectations, even their own previously
-held ones, to truly find their authentic voice.
He had to break free. Totally. The immediate,
almost violent shift in his language on stage,
particularly the raw and unfiltered use of the
N -word, was incredibly provocative back then.
Hugely. It was a sharp, intentional break from
the more palatable, middle -of -the -road Cosby
style he had imitated. signaled a new fearless
and often deeply uncomfortable approach to comedy
that would define his legacy. Shedding a skin.
Exactly. Revealing the raw nerves beneath. Embracing
a style that allowed him to embody characters
from his life, inhabit their voices, deliver
social satire with an unprecedented cutting edge.
It's the moment the observer became the participant,
you know. The storyteller became the story. This
transformation was further solidified when Prior
moved to Berkeley, California in 1969. Oh, Berkeley.
Perfect timing. Right, immersing himself in the
vibrant counterculture scene flourishing there.
In Berkeley, he engaged with influential figures
like Huey P. Newton. Wow, Black Panther founder.
Yep. And the renowned author Ishmael Reed. This
environment undoubtedly fueled his evolving political
and social perspectives, deepening his commentary,
and providing a platform for him to articulate
the frustrations and aspirations of a generation
seeking change. Makes perfect sense. Berkeley
in 69 was the place to be for that. Throughout
the 1970s, Prior expanded his reach dramatically
beyond stand -up stages. He became a highly sought
-after writer for popular TV shows. Right, using
that voice in different ways. Contributing his
unique perspective to hits like Sanford and The
Flip Wilson Show, and even a 1973 Lily Tomlin
special, for which he shared a prestigious Emmy
Award for Outstanding Writing. And Emmy. People
forget how successful he was as a writer, too.
Totally. His acting career also blossomed during
this period, showcasing his versatility on the
big screen. He appeared in critically acclaimed
films like Lady Sings the Blues with Diana Ross,
The Blaxploitation Classic, the Mac Uptown Saturday
Night, the buddy comedy Silver Streak. With Gene
Wilder, the star of that partnership. Exactly.
Car Wash, the gritty drama Blue Collar, and even
made that memorable brief cameo in the Muppet
movie as a balloon vendor. I remember that one.
As his presence grew on screen, the demand for
Pryor's unique voice extended to his recording
career. But that path... true to form, was also
fraught with significant legal battles. Always
complications with Pryor. It seems so. In 1970,
Pryor signed with Laugh Records, that independent,
comedy -oriented label. In 71, he recorded his
second album, Craps, after Hours, still relatively
early commercially for him. Right, before the
huge explosion. Still relatively unknown to a
mainstream national audience, he made a truly
notable appearance in the 1972 documentary, Wattstacks.
Ah, yes, Wattstacks was huge. In this film, he
powerfully riffed on the tragic comic absurdities
of race relations in Watts and across the U .S.,
delivering a performance that really resonated.
You could see the power even then. Not long after,
seeking a larger platform, greater distribution,
Prior signed with Stax Records in 73. This led
to the release of his true breakthrough album,
That Nigger's Crazy, in 1974. Landmark album.
Absolutely changed the game. But this success
wasn't without complications. Laff Records, claiming
ownership from their earlier contract, almost
succeeded in preventing the album's release with
an injunction. Legal battles. A protracted legal
battle ensued, eventually leading to Pryor's
release from his Laff contract. The compromise,
however, was that Laff was allowed to keep releasing
older, unissued material he'd recorded between
68 and 73. Ah, capitalizing on his new fame.
Exactly. They strategically timed these releases
with his mainstream film successes. So albums
like Are You Serious came out around Silver Streak,
The Wizard of Comedy with The Wiz, Insane with
Stir Crazy, created confusion among fans about
what was current. Yeah, that must have been frustrating
for him. and confusing for listeners. Despite
these contractual complexities, That Nigger's
Crazy was a commercial and critical sensation.
Certified Gold won the Grammy for Best Comedy
Album in 1975. First Grammy, huge deal. When
Stax Records briefly closed its doors, Prior
returned to surprise Warner Bros. his original
label. They swiftly re -released That Nigger's
Crazy and then followed up with Is This Something
I Said in 75? Another classic. That one went
platinum, earned him another Grammy in 76. The
streak continued with Bicentennial Nigger in
76, his third consecutive gold album and Grammy
winner in 77. Three Grammys in a row for comedy.
unheard of. Truly solidifying his status as an
unparalleled comedic powerhouse and cultural
force. He was on top of the world, comedically
speaking. Beyond his groundbreaking stand -up,
Pryor also made that significant, though controversial
mark as a writer in Hollywood. In 1974, co -writing
Mel Brooks's satirical Western Blazing Saddles.
Which is just iconic. Still hilarious. Absolutely.
What's particularly intriguing and a source of
much debate is that Pryor was initially slated
to play the lead role of Bart. Right, the role
Cleavon Little made famous. Exactly. But conflicting
accounts cloud the real reasons he didn't get
the part. Mel Brooks later claimed Warner Brothers
execs vetoed Pryor's casting, said he was uninsurable
due to a drug arrest. But that's never been confirmed,
has it? No studio executive from that era has
ever corroborated that specific claim. Leaves
it open to interpretation. Director Michael Schultz
offered a different perspective. He stated, Richard
wrote it and Mel Brooks chased him out, suggesting
Brooks wanted total credit. Ooh, that's a different
angle entirely. Prior himself reportedly learned
from Cleavon Little that he wouldn't be in the
film. Must've been a painful blow given his creative
investment. For sure, especially after co -writing
it. This incident highlights not just the creative
process, but also the power dynamics and, let's
face it, racial politics at play in Hollywood
back then. Yeah, this blazing saddest incident,
it raises important questions, doesn't it? About
creative control, the subtle and overt racial
politics in Hollywood, and how history gets retold
often to serve particular narratives. Absolutely.
It suggests a potential pattern, maybe. of Pryor's
immense talent being recognized. I mean, he was
clearly instrumental in shaping that iconic script,
but his actual presence on screen, particularly
in a leading role that would challenge racial
norms, like Bart certainly did. Seen as too risky.
Exactly. Viewed as a significant risk by the
studios, especially during a period when he was
becoming increasingly outspoken and controversial
in his standup, a risk they seemed unwilling
to take, regardless of his undeniable writing
contribution. Makes you wonder how many other
groundbreaking projects might have been stifled
by those anxieties. He also explored mainstream
television, but his provocative style often clashed
head -on with network expectations, sometimes
spectacularly so. Yeah, SNL comes to mind. 1975
made history as the first black host of Saturday
Night Live. His appearance included the now legendary
and deeply controversial Word Association skit
with Chevy Chase. Still shocking to watch today.
Push boundaries hard. Totally. forced audiences
to confront uncomfortable truths on live TV.
His longtime girlfriend at the time, Catherine
McKee, even made a brief guest appearance with
him on SNL, blurring the lines between personal
and public. Interesting. Two years later, 1977,
he gets his own variety show, The Richard Pryor
Show, on NBC. Huge opportunity. Huge. But despite
the platform, canceled up for only four episodes.
Four? That's it. Yep. Swift cancellation, largely
due to the show's controversial subject matter,
and Pryor's absolute unwillingness to alter his
material for network sensors. They just weren't
ready. What kind of stuff was he doing? He portrayed
the first black president decades before it happened,
spoofed the Star Wars Cantina, included a serious
non -comedy skit on gun violence, surprisingly
prescient, lampooned racism on the sinking Titanic,
and even used clever costuming to appear visually
nude on network TV. Wow. He wasn't holding back.
Not at all. He famously said about the show,
they offered me 10 episodes, but I said all I
wanted to and for. Huh. Classic Pryor. Yeah.
Commitment to his art over network demands. Tells
you everything. But another truly significant
shift occurred in his personal and artistic life.
A pivotal moment of introspection. The trip to
Africa. Exactly. In 1979, at the absolute height
of his success, Richard Pryor visited Kenya.
Upon returning, he made a profound and very public
declaration. He swore he would never use the
word nigger in his stand -up routine again. Which
was huge, considering how central it had become
to his commentary. Right, how he famously reclaimed
it from a slur into this complex, comedic tool,
a striking decision. Yeah, this self -imposed
ban on the N -word after his Africa trip is a
truly pivotal moment, artistically and personally.
It signifies a profound shift in his understanding
of racial language, and his responsibility as
an influential voice. What do you think he gained
from that trip, experiencing a black majority
society? That's likely a huge part of it. Perhaps
experiencing a different reality of black identity,
one not constantly defined by the white gaze
or the historical trauma of slavery, gave him
a new perspective on the power and potential
harm of that word. A different weight to it.
Right. He spoke about feeling a different kind
of burden responsibility after that experience.
Choosing to lead by example, even when it meant
re -evaluating one of his most potent, albeit
controversial, comedic tools. It showcases remarkable
capacity for introspection and growth, even at
the peak of his fame. So the 1980s kick off with
both unprecedented professional success and this
nearly fatal personal crisis for Pryor, a dramatic
illustration of the dualities that defined his
life. The highs and lows are extreme. Absolutely.
In 1980, he achieves this groundbreaking milestone,
first black actor to earn a million dollars for
a single film. We're still crazy. A million bucks
in 1980. That was huge. Barrier breaking. Not
just a personal triumph, but a massive moment
for black actors in Hollywood. However, this
triumph was quickly overshadowed by that harrowing
incident on June 9th, 1980. The fire. Yeah. While
on a free -basing binge, that highly volatile
method of smoking cocaine. Right. Very dangerous
process. Pryor doused himself in rum and set
himself on fire. Right. Now, there are conflicting
accounts. Some, including Pryor, said he poured
rum on himself in a moment of drug -induced psychosis.
Others, like the LAPD, described it as an explosion
while he was free -basing. Either way. The result
was horrific. Severe consequences. He ran screaming
down Parthenia Street from his L .A. home, was
subdued by police, treated for second - and third
-degree burns covering more than half his body
at the Grossman Burn Center. Just unimaginable
pain. His daughter, Rain Pryor, later said it
was drug -induced. reduced psychosis. His widow,
Jennifer Lee, who had moved out after watching
his addiction spiral, recalled the drug had become
his lover, that she did not exist in its presence,
devastated. Remarkably, and this is just pure
Pryor, he famously incorporated a description
of this trauma into his show, Richard Pryor,
live on the Sunset Strip in 82. With his characteristic
gallows, he uttered that dark, ironic approach.
He joked the event was caused by dunking a cookie
into of that mill causing an explosion. At the
end of the bit, he even poked fun at people telling
jokes about him by waving a lit match and saying,
what's that? Richard Pryor running down the street.
Playing with fire, literally and figuratively,
transforming near fatal experience into uncomfortable
cathartic laughter. That's Pryor. Drawing these
threads together, this incident is such a stark
illustration of his unwavering commitment to
mining his own pain for his art. It's a classic
albeit extreme example of gallows humor, right?
Textbook. Where he takes a deeply personal tragedy
and through the sheer force of his comedic genius
transforms it into a collective catharsis for
his audience. This highlights the severe and
very public struggles he faced with substance
abuse showcasing how deeply entwined his personal
demons were with his creative process. They fueled
each other maybe? It seems that way. This wasn't
just storytelling. It was a form of self -exorcism.
performed live on stage, forcing both himself
and his audience to confront the darkest corners
of his experience. It's a powerful example of
an artist not just surviving, but actively transmuting
immense suffering into something profoundly impactful.
The free -basing incident had immediate, significant
professional repercussions too, forced him to
step back from projects at a critical time. Right,
momentum interrupted. He was replaced by Gregory
Hines in Mel Brooks's History of the World, Part
One, a role Brooks had written specifically for
him. Ouch. Similarly, a scheduled appearance
on The Muppet Show around that time, which could
have broadened his audience, had to be filled
by the show's British writer, Chris Langham.
Prior was just unable to perform. Understandable,
given the circumstances. Despite the profound
trauma, the impact on his health and career,
Prior didn't stay away from stand -up for long.
Incredible resilience. He bounced back. Within
a year of the incident, he filmed and released
a new concert film and album, Richard Prior,
here and now in 83, which he notably directed
himself. Taking control again. Later, in 86,
he took his experiences to the big screen, writing
and directing Joe Dancer, Your Life is Calling.
a fictionalized account of his life, directly
inspired by the 80 incident. Right, that autobiographical
film? Wasn't a major commercial success, but
another deeply personal artistic endeavor, processing
his trauma through performance. Using art to
heal, maybe. The mid -80s saw Pryor attempting
to navigate Hollywood with a major studio deal.
a move some critics and fans felt steered him
away from his raw roots towards more commercial
fare. The Columbia deal. Yep. In 83, signed a
massive five -year contract with Columbia Pictures
for an astonishing $40 million. Unheard of for
a black actor, then. $40 million, wow. As part
of the deal, he started his own production company,
Indigo Productions, promising to open opportunities
for minorities in the industry, still committed
to representation. Good for him. But the films
changed. This period was characterized by what
had been described as softer, more formulaic
films, big budget projects like Superman the
Third for which he got four million dollars.
Superman the Third, yeah, that was something.
Brewster's Millions, moving, See No Evil, Hear
No Evil, often starring alongside Gene Wilder.
More mainstream comedies. Was it purely artistic
choice? or a pragmatic move in a tough industry,
especially for him navigating past controversies
and a huge studio deal. It's complex, highlights
that tension between creative integrity and commercial
viability. Always a balancing act in Hollywood.
Interestingly, he was originally considered for
Billy Ray Valentine in trading places back in
83, the part Eddie Murphy eventually took. Ah,
another what if prior and Murphy in that. Wow.
In a move that might have seemed completely out
of character, he even ventured into children's
television. Really? In 84, briefly hosted a show
on CBS called Prior's Place, similar to Sesame
Street, where he'd also appeared earlier. Featured
puppets, dealt with more sobering issues. Huh.
How'd it go? Canceled shortly after its debut.
Maybe too subtle. or just too far from his established
image. Probably. Hard to square that with his
standard persona. He also took on the high -profile,
challenging role of co -hosting the Academy Awards.
Twice. First in 77, again in 83. The Oscars.
That must have made the censors nervous. Oh,
definitely. Given his reputation for profanity,
network censors issued stern warnings. After
an early slip in one appearance, a five -second
delay was instituted when returning from breaks.
A delay just for him. Made him one of only three
SNL hosts, along with Sam Kinison and Andrew
Diceclay, subjected to that. The networks were
clearly both enamored and terrified of his unpredictable
genius. That makes sense. Yeah. Which naturally
leads us to ask an important question about the
challenges of working with Pryor during this
period, especially as his personal struggles
intensify. Yeah, his reputation. He developed
a reputation on film sets for being quite demanding,
disrespectful, frequently late, making selfish
and difficult requests. Gene Wilder provided
a firsthand account in his autobiography detailing
Pryor's behavior during Stir Crazy. What did
he say? Wilder recounted Pryor demanding a helicopter
to fly him to and from set. asserting his star
status, maybe acting out. Wow, the diva behavior.
Wilder also described an infamous incident he
called the watermelon incident. Last week of
filming, lunch break, crew member jokingly tosses
watermelon, lands at Pryor's feet. Oh boy. Pryor
immediately got up, went home, announced he was
quitting show business, wouldn't return. Just
like that. Days later, he returned all smiles
after the camera operator who threw the watermelon
was fired. Wilder... Looking back, assumed Prior
was using drugs during filming, connecting the
substance abuse to his erratic, demanding, sometimes
paranoid behavior, paints a complex picture.
Definitely. A man wrestling with internal demons
that profoundly impacted his professional relationships.
So drawing these threads together, what's the
core takeaway here? It highlights the immense
pressure, the deep personal struggles he was
grappling with and how that manifested directly
in his professional life. Right. The lines blurred
completely. Paints a picture of an artist incredibly
gifted, visionary, but also deeply troubled by
his own demons and the immense toll of his life
experiences. This tumultuous internal world often
spilled over into his external conduct. Which
makes his groundbreaking work even more remarkable.
He delivered his genius despite, and perhaps
because of, these profound internal conflicts,
leaving those around him to navigate the often
turbulent wake of his brilliant but volatile
personality. Well put. Nearing the end of the
decade, 1989, he starred in Harlem Nights. Ah,
with Eddie Murphy and Red Fox. Exactly. Notable
for bringing together three generations of black
comedians. Prior, the ascendant Murphy and the
legendary Fox in this comedy drama crime film.
Must have been quite a scene on set. Can you
imagine? The green room conversations, the stories,
the sheer comedic power in one room. It was a
significant collaboration. An elder statesman
sharing the screen with a new wave he had undoubtedly
influenced. A direct lineage of comedy genius
right there. Hey! Later years, an enduring legacy.
The later years were profoundly marked by that
debilitating battle with multiple sclerosis,
and market chronic, unpredictable disease affecting
the central nervous system. Diagnosed in 86,
right? Yes. By the mid -90s, the disease had
progressed so much he largely relied on a power
-operated mobility scooter, famously joking,
with characteristic dark humor, that MS stood
for more shit. Still finding the humor? Even
then. Amazing. Even in the face of such a devastating
illness, his wit remained sharp, his spirit unbroken.
His last film appearance was a small but poignant
role in David Lynch's surreal mystery Lost Highway
in 97, appeared on his scooter as Arnie, an auto
repair garage manager, bringing his unique presence
even to unconventional projects. Even Lynch wanted
him. It says a lot. In 2000, Rhino Records released
that comprehensive box set and its deep two,
the complete Warner Bros. recordings, 1968 and
1992, remastering all his reprise and Warner
Bros. albums, testament to his enduring discography.
Preserving the legacy. His last television appearance
was December 99 in the cold open of an episode
of The Norm Show, playing Mr. Johnson, an elderly
man in a wheelchair, again, incorporating his
physical reality into his acting. Never shied
away from it. In 2002, a significant legal victory.
Pryor and his wife, Jennifer Lee Pryor, won legal
rights to almost 40 hours of unreleased material
from his earlier laugh records days. Ah, getting
that early stuff back. led to the 2005 release
of Evolution Revolution, the early years, 1966,
1974, finally allowing fans to hear more of his
early formative work, including the middle brow
phase and the beginnings of his transformation.
Important context. In late 2004, his sister claimed
he had lost his voice due to MSSKEG, a heartbreaking
possibility. Right, that rumor went around. But
his wife, Jennifer Lee, directly refuted this
on his official website in January 2005, quoting
prior himself with his signature defiance. I'm
sick of hearing this shit about me not talking.
Not true. I have good days, bad days, but I still
am a talking motherfucker. Still cry her right
to the end. Fierce. On the morning of December
10th, 2005, just nine days after his 65th birthday,
Richard Pryor passed away. So young, really.
Suffered his third and final heart attack at
his LA home. His wife Jennifer's attempts to
resuscitate him were tragically unsuccessful,
pronounced dead at 7 .58 a .m. PST. Sad end.
Jennifer Lee was later quoted as saying, with
poignant simplicity, at the end, there's a smile
on his face. His body was cremated, ashes given
to family, later scattered in Hana, Hawaii in
2019. Forensic pathologist Michael Hunter attributes
his fatal heart attack to severe coronary artery
disease, at least partially brought on by years
of heavy tobacco smoking, a somber reminder of
the toll his lifestyle took. Yeah, the body keeps
the score, doesn't it? To truly understand Pryor's
unique genius, though, it's also incredibly important
to look at who he admired, who he drew inspiration
from. reveals the breadth of his artistic absorption.
Good point. Who was on his list? His influences
were remarkably wide -ranging, showcasing a deep
appreciation for the craft across many styles.
Physical comedians like Chaplin, Jackie Gleason,
Red Skelton, Abbott, and Costello. The classics.
Comedic actors like Jerry Lewis, Dean Martin,
Jack Benny, Bob Hope. Intellectual and observational
comics like Woody Allen. Dick Gregory, Lenny
Bruce. Boundary pushers. And of course, fellow
pioneers of black comedy like Bill Cosby, whom
he initially drew inspiration from before his
radical departure and the legendary Red Fox.
That's quite a diverse group. This extensive
list shows a remarkable breadth right, from slapstick
to observational traditional entertainment to
boundary pushing social commentary. It highlights
how he didn't just imitate but deeply synthesize
various styles and approaches. Filtered through
his own life. Exactly. Filtering them through
his own tumultuous life experience to forge a
voice that was utterly unique. It wasn't about
simply copying. It was absorbing these diverse
elements and then through the crucible of his
own lived chaos, creating something entirely
new. Exploding the forms. Totally. Infusing them
with a rawness and truth that was unprecedented.
Truly elevating comedy to an art form. capable
of profound social commentary. His death, far
from diminishing his impact, really solidified
his place as an unparalleled master, a giant.
Absolutely. The acclaim from his peers says it
all. Jerry Seinfeld, meticulous craftsman, called
Pryor the potasso of our profession. Picasso,
high praise. Bob Newhart, dead pan master, heralded
him as the seminal comedian of the last 50 years.
Dave Chappelle, profoundly influenced by Pryor's
fearlessness. Chappelle owes a lot to him. declared,
and I quote, you know those like evolution charts
of man? He was the dude walking upright. Richard
was the highest evolution of comedy. Wow. That
paints a picture. Pushing the boundaries of what
comedy could be. And Bill Cosby, from whom Prior
initially drew inspiration before his break,
famously observed, Richard Prior drew the line
between comedy and tragedy as thin as one could
possibly paint it. perfectly capturing that unique
blend of tears and laughter. His groundbreaking
contributions were recognized with numerous awards
and honors, life imposterously. In 98, he received
the very first Kennedy Center Mark Twain Prize
for American humor. The first one ever. Fitting.
Fitting tribute to a man who, like Twain, used
wit to expose uncomfortable truths. He was slurred,
as the Kennedy Center president said, because
he struck a chord and a nerve with America, forcing
it to look at large social questions of race
and the more tragicomic aspects of the human
condition. Nailed it. In 2004, Comedy Central
voted him number one on their definitive list
of the 100 greatest standups of all time. Number
one? Ahead of everyone. posthumously awarded
the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2006,
recognition of his monumental recording legacy,
also received the NAACP Image Award Hall of Fame
in 96, Outstanding Actor NAACP Award in 81, and
shared that Writers Guild Award for Blazing Saddles
in 74. The accolades just kept coming, rightfully
so. Beyond his artistic achievements, Prior also
had this deep humanitarian side, particularly
concerning animal welfare. Oh right, the PETA
connection. Received a PETA humanitarian award
in 99, and the organization now gives out an
award in his name. He actively campaigned for
animal welfare, concerned about elephants and
circuses and zoos, was also a vegetarian. Didn't
know he was vegetarian. Interesting facet. His
hometown of Peoria honored him with that magnificent
life -size bronze statue, Richard Pryor, more
than just a comedian. Created by artist Preston
Jackson, placed downtown in 2015 near his childhood
neighborhood. Keeping his memory alive right
where it started. Ensuring his physical presence
is remembered in the place that shaped him. Most
recently, inducted into the National Comedy Center
in Jamestown, New York in 2022. Cementing his
place in the pantheon. Where he belongs. Decades
after his breakthrough, documentaries and biopics
continue to explore his rich, complex life. Testament
to the enduring fascination. People are still
trying to figure him out. Numerous documentaries.
The Funny Life of Richard Pryor. Richard Pryor.
I Ain't Dead Yet. Hashtag percent, West tag it
a day. The Funniest Man Dead or Alive. Richard
Pryor. Omit the logic, I am Richard Pryor. Each
offering different perspectives. So much material
to cover. His film work celebrated in retrospectives
like a Pryor engagement at BAM Cinemas in 2013,
allowing new generations to appreciate his cinematic
impact. Right. Introduce him to new audiences.
The efforts to create a definitive biopic, Richard
Pryor, or is it something you say, have been
ongoing for years. Challenging endeavor, given
the complexities. I bet. Who do you get to play
Pryor? Tough casting. Various actors, Marlon
Wayans, Mike Epps, Eddie Murphy, and directors
like Bill Condon, Lee Daniels have been attached.
Oprah has been a producer. Mike Epps, currently
attached to Star, shows the enduring power and
challenge of bringing his incredible story to
the screen. Hopefully they get it right someday.
That's a story that needs telling. Yeah. His
personal life was, in many ways, as tumultuous
and unpredictable as his stage persona, marked
by a series of intense relationships and marriages,
often intertwined with his public struggles.
Yeah, rarely simple with Pryor. He dated actress
Pam Greier, met her through Freddie Prinze, cast
together in Greased Lightning in 77. Greier tried
to help him with his drug addiction, but in a
complicated turn, Pryor ended up marrying another
woman while still dating Greier. Oof, Bessie.
He also dated actress Margo Kidder during the
filming of Some Kind of Hero in 82. Kidder famously
said she fell in love with Pryor in two seconds
flat upon meeting him, described a powerful immediate
connection. He clearly had charisma, intense
magnetism. Which brings us to a rather astonishing
statistic. Pryor was married seven times to five
different women. Seven times. Wow. OK, let's
listen. Patricia Price, 1960 -61. Shelley Bonas,
1967 -69. Deborah Maguire, 1977 -78. Jennifer
Lee, initially 81 -82, then remarried 2001 until
his death in 2005. Though validity contested,
she still controls his estate. Right. Jennifer
Lee, the constant later on. And Flynn Belain,
initially 86 -87, then remarried 90 -91. This
dizzying array of marriages speaks volumes, doesn't
it? About his passionate nature, his search for
stability, perhaps the difficulty of maintaining
conventional relationships amidst his extraordinary
life and personal struggles. Probably above,
probably. Chaos seemed to follow him, or he created
it. He also had a large family, fathering seven
children with six different women. Reflecting
the complex, often chaotic nature of his personal
world. Seven kids, too. Big family. Renee Pryor,
born 57 with girlfriend Susan. Richard Pryor
Jr., born 62 with first wife Patricia Price.
Elizabeth Ann, born 67 with girlfriend Maxine
Anderson. Rain Pryor, born 69 with second wife
Chilly Bonus. Rain is quite well known herself.
Stephen, born 84 with Flynn Belaine, who later
became wife hashtag five. Franklin, born 87 with
girlfriend Geraldine Mason. And Kelsey, born
87, also with fifth wife Flynn Belaine. Wow.
Complicated Family Tree underscores the unconventional
paths of his life, but also his legacy as a father,
a role often unmentioned amidst his public persona,
which naturally leads us to a fascinating and
for some controversial aspect of his personal
identity, his sexuality. This raises an important
question about the fluidity of identity and public
perception, especially given the various accounts
and the times he lived in. Right. This came up
more recently. Nine years after his death in
2014. That biography, Becoming Richard Pryor
by Scott Saul, stated Pryor acknowledged his
bisexuality. Then in 2018, both music legend
Quincy Jones and Pryor's widow Jennifer Lee made
headlines. The Quincy Jones interview, that was
wild. Stating he had a sexual relationship with
iconic actor Marlon Brando and was open with
friends about his bisexuality and sleeping with
men. Caused quite a stir. Pryor's daughter Rain
later disputed these claims, leading Jennifer
Lee to state Rain was in denial. Lee also notoriously
commented on TMZ. It was the 70s. Drugs were
still good. If you did enough cocaine, you'd
fuck a radiator and send it flowers in the morning.
Yikes. A cynical but maybe era reflective take?
highlights the hedonism and blurred lines back
then. Perhaps. These differing accounts underscore
the challenge of piecing together a comprehensive
narrative of such a private yet publicly exposed
life. What's truly fascinating here, though,
beyond the differing accounts from others, is
how multiple narratives contribute to our understanding
and how Prior himself was remarkably candid,
even provocative, about his experiences long
before these discussions were common or acceptable.
He talked about it himself. Oh, yeah. In his
autobiography, Prior Convisions, he discussed
a two -week relationship with a trans woman named
Matrosha, referring to it openly as two weeks
of being gay. Wow, okay. In his first special,
Live and Smokin', he openly discussed experimenting
with homosexuality. He was even more explicit
at a 1977 gay rights show at the Hollywood Bowl.
What did he say there? He stated, I have sucked
a dick. Clarifying the incident happened in 1952,
when he was 11 or 12, with someone named Wilbur
Harp. and admitted to engaging in anal sex with
heart. Whoa. That level of raw, uncensored self
-revelation delivered publicly in the 70s. Truly
ahead of its time. demonstrated a radical honesty
about his own experiences, regardless of societal
judgment. Incredible candor. His body also bore
the heavy toll of his lifestyle and illnesses,
which undoubtedly contributed to his later struggles.
Yeah, the health issues piled up. Suffered a
mild heart attack at age 36 in November 77. Struck
reminder of the long -term consequences of years
of heavy smoking and drinking. 36 is so young
for a heart attack. Experienced a second heart
attack in Australia in 1990. subsequently underwent
triple heart bypass surgery in 1991, intense
medical procedure. The third and final heart
attack, as we discussed, was in 2005, and most
significantly, diagnosed with multiple sclerosis,
MS in 86, progressively led to severe mobility
issues, forcing him onto the scooter by the mid
-90s. And the claims about losing his voice near
the end? Were, as we heard, famously refuted
by Pryor himself through his wife. underscoring
his fierce determination to maintain his voice,
his essence. These numerous health battles highlight
the immense physical and mental challenges he
faced throughout his career and later life, often
performed and processed right there in the public
eye. Yeah, open book, even in suffering. Outro.
So drawing all these incredible, often contradictory
threads together, what's the core takeaway from
our deep dive into the life of Richard Pryor?
We've journeyed through the incredible highs
and profound lows of his existence. Quite the
journey. From a childhood marked by abuse and
instability growing up in a brothel, suffering
deep trauma to becoming this unparalleled comedic
voice who fearlessly tackled race, class, sexuality,
personal demons, we've seen how his raw honesty
born from these intensely personal struggles,
even harrowing incidents like the free -basing
fire, fundamentally transformed comedy, consistently
challenged audiences, even as his own life was
often a battlefield of addiction, health crises,
complex relationships. A figure of immense contradictions.
Absolutely. But those very contradictions were
the fertile wellspring of his genius, weren't
they? Yeah, if we connect this to the bigger
picture, Pryor's journey is such a powerful reminder
that genius often emerges from unexpected, even
deeply painful places. His unparalleled ability
to distill his most vulnerable, controversial,
even traumatic experiences into humor that resonated
so deeply with millions. It speaks to a unique
kind of bravery. Definitely. understanding of
the human condition. His legacy isn't just about
the countless laughs he provided, it's about
the uncomfortable, unflinching years he held
up to society and to himself. Forcing us to confront
difficult truths. Exactly. About racism, addiction,
identity, the resilience of the human spirit.
He didn't just redefine the boundaries of what
comedy could achieve, he detonated them, leaving
a landscape where honesty became the highest
form of art. Richard Pryor not only changed comedy,
he fundamentally changed how we talk about race,
class, sexuality, addiction, often by simply
being fearlessly, uncomfortably, unapologetically
himself. That's the core of it. His work invites
us to consider what truly constitutes courage
in an artist to bear one's soul with such intensity.
And maybe what price are we as a society willing
to let them pay for the uncomfortable truths
they reveal about ourselves and the world we
inhabit? Heavy question. It is. It's a question
that, like Pryor's legacy, continues to echo
profoundly, challenging us to look deeper and
laugh harder even when it hurts. A legacy that
endures. No doubt about it.