Appreciation: Comedian, actor, musician and painter Martin Mull mastered the art of always being right for the job

As a passionate movie lover who grew up in the 80s and 90s, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of loss with the passing of Martin Mull at the age of 80. His unique brand of dry wit and deadpan humor left an indelible mark on my childhood, and his presence on the screen felt like a comforting constant in an ever-changing world.


If you’ve been fortunate enough to follow Martin Mull’s lengthy career, his passing at the age of 80 on Thursday feels like the conclusion of an epoch. A writer, musician, comedian, and painter, Mull possessed a unique ability to make us feel uneasy in the most comforting way – appearing ordinary or even mundane but harboring a hidden wickedness. The world seemed right as long as Martin Mull was among us.

He carried an air of eternal wisdom beyond his years. Dapper and eloquent in his youth, he appeared more mature than expected. Later in life, with his owlish gaze behind glasses, there was a surprising youthfulness about him.

He has an extensive resume with no gaps, starting from his early appearances in “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman,” a satirical soap opera produced by Norman Lear. Subsequently, he secured recurring roles in shows like “Roseanne,” “Sabrina the Teenage Witch,” “Veep,” and “Arrested Development.” Additionally, he made guest appearances on “Taxi” and “Law & Order: Special Victims Unit.” His film credits include “Mr. Mom,” “Clue,” and “Mrs. Doubtfire.”

He consistently remained present and productive, yet his arrivals were seldom predictable or in anticipated locations. Regardless, his presence was always valued and he excelled at the tasks assigned to him.

In the same vein as Steve Martin, who was older by two years, Mull excelled as a skilled instrumentalist. Known for his humorous compositions, Mull belonged to the league of Tom Lehrer, Flanders and Swann, and Dan Hicks, sharing a penchant for colorful shirts. As a countercultural cabaret performer, he defied the conventions of the counterculture. Much like Martin, Mull maintained an elegant appearance in an era when younger comedians sported long hair and casual attire to distinguish themselves from their more formal predecessors.

As a film enthusiast, I’ve noticed an intriguing contrast between the two performers. While Martin was a whirlwind of motion with flapping arms and legs, Mull operated from a calm and steady core. His musical act, Martin Mull & His Fabulous Furniture, saw me finding him seated comfortably in his large armchair, leaning forward over his oversized hollow-body guitar.

“Have you ever come across something like this before? It runs on electricity. Prepare to see more of them soon,” he explained.

Afterward, he relaxed with Barth Gimble, the amusing host of “Fernwood 2 Night” and “America 2 Night” satire shows. During his appearances on “The Tonight Show,” where he was a riotous and fast-talking guest, often poking fun at his past in entertainment, he delivered those segments while seated.

In the TV series “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman,” Mull portrayed Garth Gimble, an abusive husband who met his end impaled on a Christmas star. A more simplified explanation would be: On this show, Garth (played by Mull) passed away after being impaled on a Christmas tree ornament, making way for his twin brother Barth to carry on living. In the spin-off “Fernwood 2 Night,” Mull and Fred Willard brought to life Jerry Hubbard, a dimwitted yet self-assured sidekick in a telepathic duo that appeared as contrasting aspects of the same character.

In just two summer runs, the talk shows featuring Mull and Willard amassed a significant cultural impact, with a total of 130 episodes broadcasted weekly. These shows can be easily found online. Later in their careers, they collaborated on various projects including the Cinemax series “The History of White People in America” and its sequel “Portrait of a White Marriage.” They also made appearances in commercials for Red Roof Inn, portrayed gay characters on “Roseanne,” and voiced robots in “Dexter’s Laboratory.”

Martin Mull, left, with fellow comedian Steve Martin in Santa Monica in 2014.
(Ryan Miller / Invision)

Growing up in North Ridgeville, Ohio, just a stone’s throw away from Fernwood in my mind’s eye, I was always drawn to Mull’s unique brand of comedy, which often tackled the topic of white insularity. My earliest memory of him is tied to his 1973 album, “Martin Mull & His Fabulous Furniture in Your Living Room.” The record began with an unusual rendition of “Dueling Banjos,” played on tubas instead of the traditional banjos. One track stood out to me in particular: a “Lake Erie delta” blues song that Mull claimed he learned from his grandfather, who was a real estate agent. Accompanied only by a ukulele and a baby bottle used as a slide, Mull sang with raw emotion:

He shared with David Letterman his plans to explore “the contributions, if any, of White Anglo-Saxon Protestants in America since World War I,” through the lens of history.

In an intriguing installment of “Fernwood,” a Jewish man is pulled over for speeding, turning this moment into an opportunity for residents, many of whom may be unfamiliar with Jewish people, to observe and learn from him as if he were a rare and fascinating creature.

As a cinema enthusiast, I’d be thrilled to have you join me in our upcoming movie experience. I do hope the seat will be comfortable for you, as my preferences may vary from yours.

Many exceptional comedians, including the Marx Brothers, W.C.Fields, and Albert Brooks, shared Mull’s trait of being an unconventional insider. Despite achieving the same level of success as industry veterans, they retained their wild spirit. Mull was not just a jester; he was a deep-rooted artist with a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree from the Rhode Island School of Design, where the Talking Heads originated. He viewed show business as a means to an end, allowing him to dedicate his time to painting.

We were lucky he needed the work.

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2024-07-18 19:43