Readers looking for a recommendation to see The Aristocrats deserve fair warning. This movie is not for those who react squeamishly to long strings of obscenity, who are uncomfortably sensitive to verbally graphic scatological and pornographic humor, and who may not want to watch some well-known actors and comedians talk with potty mouths for the length of an hour-and-a-half. Even if you are not put off by such vulgarity, you probably shouldn't take your mother to see this film -- if she finds you laughing throughout it, she might not know what to think of you anymore. (Unless, of course, she's fine with what's going on and starts laughing too.) But for anyone who can take it, this is one of the smartest and funniest movies of this year.

The Aristocrats is Paul Provenza's documentary about a hundred comedy industry professionals talking about, and sometimes telling, a certain joke that's existed within the community since the days of Vaudeville. No one uses it in their acts; instead, it acts as a sort of secret handshake among the comedians. There are reasons the joke has obtained the role that it has, not the least of which involves its level of disgust. Also, frankly, the way it's told these days, its outdated punchline just isn't that funny.

This brings us to the point of the joke, which is the middle section that allows the joke-teller to freeform his or her way through it, taking as long as he or she needs to, and embellishing as much as possible. Any comedian can tell you that it's not the punchline that makes a joke work; it's the setup. And this joke is practically nothing but setup to the point where all the humor comes from the way the teller tells it. And as each of the joke-tellers in this movie relates his/her  version of it, we see how much of any joke comes from personality, from the particular vibe and energy that any good comedian has.

By talking about the joke and its various aspects, the interviewed subjects discuss quite a bit about comedy itself, analyzing humor, its forms and history concerning the progression of what becomes more or less taboo in society. It's an examination, both direct and indirect, of topics from why scatological humor is inherently funny to when it becomes appropriate to joke about tragedies. For myself, one of the most fascinating subjects regarding humor involves how joking after times of grief becomes a rather consciously conflicted form of release and relief. One section of the movie addresses this to particularly strong effect during a now infamous delivery of the joke by Gilbert Gottfried, who practically utilizes it as a euphoric virtual group hug.

A good word must go out to how well this movie is put together. Provenza, Penn Jillette (of the comedy/magic duo Penn and Teller), and their crew shot a myriad of interview footage using store-bought handheld cameras and natural lighting. The result offers a comfortable intimacy befitting the idea of a couple of friends sitting around talking about a dirty inside joke. Assembling and editing this footage must have been a monstrous task for Provenza and his editor, Emery Emery, but not only is it edited into a working movie, it has a quick flow and actually features discussion arcs that move naturally from one topic to the next. Every section of the movie consists of a montage of interview clips from dozens of people, all talking as if each one knows the next person will continue his or her thought. And sometimes it pauses a bit to highlight certain tellings of the joke before hurtling off to more. The film is really a marvel of editing.

As long as one's ears won't turn red listening to all the nasty nasty stuff, watching The Aristocrats can be, quite ironically, a delightful experience. Comedy continues to be an underrated form of professional performance, and a movie like this shows just how easy and how hard it can be. It doesn't take talent to tell a dirty joke, but it does take talent to tell a dirty joke well. Women and men, young and old, deadpans and manics, and even mimes and animators get their spotlight with this one. And with all the smiling and laughing going on, it's as good a testament as any to the healing powers of comedy.

(Released by ThinkFilm; not rated by MPAA. Opens in New York City and Los Angeles on July 29, 2005.)

Also posted on www.windowtothemovies.com.