Critic’s Appreciation: Bob Newhart Was an Everyman With a Comic Voice Like No Other

Critic’s Appreciation: Bob Newhart Was an Everyman With a Comic Voice Like No Other

I’ve had the pleasure of growing up with the comedy of Bob Newhart, and I can honestly say that his unique brand of humor has left a profound impact on me. His precision in comic timing, whether it be through his deadpan delivery or the strategic pauses, is unparalleled.


In true Bob Newhart style, the renowned comedian, who passed away this week at the age of 94, had a humble attitude towards himself.

In a 1986 interview with Rolling Stone, conducted by future Law & Order boss Warren Leight, Newhart described the essence of his self-titled CBS sitcom as “keeping it concise. By using as few words as possible, we trust the audience to be smart and understand the message.”

Later in the conversation, Newhart mentioned his famous early comedy bit where he played a PR guy discussing improvements to the Gettysburg Address with an unheard Abraham Lincoln on the phone. He explained, “The humor in that Abe Lincoln sketch doesn’t come across on paper. It lies in what isn’t spoken.”

According to an unspecified Internet source, Newhart once described himself as a minimalist who prefers to convey the most using the fewest words.

There are books to be written pondering the truth of these self-estimations.

Newhart’s everyday image likely stems from his unremarkable upbringing and experiences. Born to a plumber and a housewife, his ordinary background is almost comically normal. His military service was uneventful as he served merely as a clerk. After the army, he pursued a career in accounting, but not just any accounting job – he worked for a drywall manufacturing company, making him an accountant of drywall companies.

If you’re not familiar with “The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart,” a comedy album released in 1960, you might have come across references to it on shows like “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” and “Mad Men.” In these series, the characters Joel and Pete Campbell are depicted as listening to it, providing evidence that they were less than admirable individuals.

In the current context,

On one hand, maybe the idea that Newhart had his comedy breakthrough doing literally half a routine confirms his diagnosis of “minimalism.” He isn’t wrong that the punchlines are technically on the other side of the phone, that Lincoln and his desire to rewrite “Four score and seven years ago” is the “funny” character and Newhart’s P.R. guy character is just being perplexed.

On the other hand? Nah. Let’s not let Newhart get away with that.

Let’s not let Newhart be valorized exclusively for his deadpan.

Let’s not let him be beloved exclusively for his stammer.

Let’s not merely classify him as an “Everyman.”

Instead of “No, Newhart’s style was maximalism masked in minimalism,” you could say:

In “The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart,” Newhart’s trademark stammer was hardly noticeable, and his phone character roles were far from deadpan. Instead, they were quite excitable. However, what stood out even back then was Newhart’s exceptional comic timing, both subtly and literally. Every moment of silence on Newhart’s part, filled with growing confusion and frustration, is a moment the audience must wait for the punchline. It’s more than that; it’s an opportunity for the listener to create their own punchline. I’d liken it to the concept in jazz that it’s about the notes left unplayed, but I think of it as closer to the art of a suspenseful filmmaker like Alfred Hitchcock, building tension towards humor rather than shock.

The stammer became more and more a part of his persona, and it was deployed in many of the same ways as the silence on the other end of the phone. Every hesitation, every restatement, every embarrassed pause forced the audience to wait another second for the joke that was his reaction and not even a punchline. The pauses became the punchline. The flustered uncertainty became the punchline. Newhart’s reputation as “a thinking man’s comic” was as much based on the sense of thought and discernment in his performance style as the wisdom of anything he said. This is a key thing that separates him from contemporaries like Woody Allen or Tommy Smothers, who were similar in some ways.

When Newhart transitioned from radio to television comedy, even small actions were hilarious. Contradicting this in a Rolling Stone interview, Newhart downplayed his physicality, mentioning John Cleese as a comparison. However, this assessment is misleading. The iconic Bob Newhart’s expressive shrug, adjustments to his posture amidst chaos, and subtle mouth pulls conveying hidden frustration – these elements are undeniably examples of physical comedy.

I enjoy how Newhart describes himself as “the last sensible person left on earth.” This is more than just an Everyman; it’s what made Newhart an exceptional TV star, notably in “The Bob Newhart Show” and “Newhart.”

In the first role, he portrayed a psychologist from Chicago with issues of his own, fitting for what I call the “Vocational Irony Narrative” genre. In the second role, he took on the character of a new innkeeper in a quirky Vermont town. Throughout both sitcoms, he is surrounded by vibrant personalities and scene-stealing actors. However, the focus remains on his character and reactions in each scene. Remarkably, these shows gain depth from the hidden warmth and sincerity beneath the developing tension.

Some comic relief from the side characters is guaranteed in both shows, allowing you to have a hearty laugh. And when the plot became overly predictable or chaotic, Newhart skillfully injected reality back in with his quick wit and perfect timing – think of it as adding just the right amount of “precision” and “brevity” to keep things engaging and authentic.

It was a not-so-secret superpower that continued even in less successful subsequent shows or in very successful subsequent shows on which he was “merely” a guest star. He won his only Emmy for his guest appearances on The Big Bang Theory, where his presence — in full deadpan/stammer mode — served two key purposes: leveling out the wacky hijinks from much of the cast and accentuating that, in some ways, Jim Parsons was his comic-timing heir.

As a huge fan of classic sitcoms, I’ve had the pleasure of discovering Bob Newhart through his cameos in The Big Bang Theory. His charming presence and the warm reception he received from Sheldon and the other characters brought a nostalgic smile to my face. It was hard to believe that this beloved figure had missed out on several Emmy awards for his iconic show, Newhart. I mean, who wouldn’t have given him the recognition he deserved back then?

In his death, let’s set the record straight and acknowledge the truth: His humility may have seemed exaggerated, but there was nothing ordinary about him. With a voice that inspired generations of imitators and comedic timing like no other, he was far from an average person.

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2024-07-19 16:25