Bob Odenkirk’s New Must-Read Memoir

Wednesday's about books, about reading (and writing)

Over the weekend I finished a few books I had on the go – including, yes, finally, The Shining! Turn out, seeing the movie so many dozens of times and reading and watching anything and everything to do with the film and the novel before actually reading the novel did kinda spoil the impact somewhat. But I read it. And I enjoyed it enough, feel pleased to have finished it. And I straight away read another Stephen King book in one gulp and started two more. So, runs on the board…and very much back in that game.

Also, as predicted, quitting Facebook has been very good for my (proper) reading. I even moved my computer out of our TV room – it’s been there, a hostage (and keeping me prisoner with it) for some 10 years. I packed it up one day. Plugged my old iPod back in to the auxiliary cable. And just started reading…

It was a bit like the end of The Cable Guy, albeit a bit less dramatic¹.

Also – I mentioned last week that reading was keeping me sane. We all had the Covid. And now we don’t. All clear. And back in the world. So the weekend was a final stay – the last of two weeks all up of being housebound, which – in this crazy new world, felt like another month or so in lockdown. A very privileged month, as I pointed out. But still, time blurs and warps.

Anyway, the very best book I got to across the week and finished in pretty much one big gulp was a brand new release.

And I wanted to share some thoughts on it. And basically a giant recommendation: Bob Odenkirk’s brand new memoir.

I love Bob Odenkirk. Have done since before I knew his name. He just kept popping up on things. That same face in everything. A mild smirk. A guy who had some sadness, some trauma etched onto him and laced all through his comedy. A guy so brilliantly able to summon rage and to walk a line between po-faced and absurd.

I can’t even remember when I first connected with him as a name…

But next thing I was all in. You might have spotted this by now if you’ve read any of this newsletters or any of the blogging I’ve done here, there, or elsewhere, but once I’m in, I tend to go all in…

Anyway, Bob Odenkirk is now known to so many for his brilliant character work in Breaking Bad, and its spinoff Better Call Saul. But long before that he was a comedy legend.

He was a writer on Saturday Night Live, working in one of the shows classic eras, working alongside writing greats Robert Smigel and Conan O’Brien. There was other TV writing work and then his great partnership with the equally brilliant David Cross. They created the incredible Mr. Show. A surreal set of TV comedy skits.

And much as he was an actor, for Bob it’s always been about the writing. He has gone on to produce and direct, he continues to push out in all directions. You might remember me gushing about the movie Nobody. There was a lot of noise about the improbable ascent of Bob Odenkirk: Action Star. And then anyone that knew him well, like Conan O’Brien, said words along the lines of “Bob Odenkirk is the type of guy that puts his mind to something and does it. Anything. Whatever it is”.

This comes across in the memoir. He is driven. Focussed. And it’s almost always about the work. About doing something. The success is not in the fame, nor the money, it’s in doing the work and being pleased by it himself. Sure, they can’t all be bangers, but the hits did just coming.

In Odenkirk’s world there are amazing ‘non’-hits too. And cameos galore. When he would fall through the cracks – he considers his early 00s a bit of a lost time, though his focus was on being a dad so no loss there, just the public not seeing him as much – there’d be a skit he’d written or a cameo appearance that would reintroduce him and remind of his genius.

He wrote the Matt Foley Motivational Speaker bit for SNL. Sure, Chris Farley’s energy carries it. But it’s from Odenkirk’s pen.

Mr. Show contains so many brilliant moments – one I love, that is also mentioned in his new book, is Rap: The Musical. A tribute to hip-hop in musical form, yet the musical contains no hip-hop at all.

And a couple of years before Mr. Show he was a writer and actor in The Ben Stiller Show. This was such a funny show, though I doubt it was seen by many people in its first run. I imported it on DVD – back before the days of YouTube and loved the biting impressions and savage critique of MTV culture through an MTV format. Stiller and Janeane Garofalo appear much as they do a couple of years on from the show in Reality Bites. But with them is Andy Dick. If you never thought he was funny you need to see him here – channelling all sorts of manic energy and deft comic timing. And Odenkirk was a key member of the on-screen and behind-the-scenes team.

His most famous sketch he created for the Stiller show was Manson. Where he interprets Charles Manson as Lassie. You gotta see it.

Odenkirk has writing credits on all sorts of shows (Get A Life) and appears in so many movie roles and in heaps of TV shows. But sometimes it’s the little cameos that stick. I loved him in season one of Curb Your Enthusiasm, as Gill, the ex porn actor that invites Larry and Cheryl to dinner. That episode (the third, in the first season from memory) was the one that made me a total fan. Go back, it’s 22 years old now, still a Top 5 episode for me.

So what’s Bob’s book all about? Well it’s about this series of hits and bumbles. About growing up the son of an alcoholic and absentee father (there’s that sadness, that trauma) and disappearing down the rabbit hole of Monty Python-inspired comedy.

From there he has a series of lucky turns, sure. He’ll acknowledge that. But he makes hard work of some of them – telling SNL head honcho, Lorne Michaels, that the show sucks and that Lorne seems like hard work. Not a way to ace a job interview.

Through it all there’s a love for his family, and a love for the work. He also shines the light on many of his creative partners, I thought most touchingly with Janeane Garofalo. He considers her a key influence in that 90s/00s wave of American alt-comedy. The Broad Cities and Amy Poehlers come directly from that energy. But he thinks Garofalo has been lost somewhat in all the flow. It seemed a good point to me.

He also cares so deeply about writing. About having a project to do – and some of his insane work schedule (flying to one city to tape a show for three days, then flying back to work on a gig like SNL) seems so demanding and just shows the focus, the commitment.

I found it hugely funny, a great recent history lesson (within comedy) and there’s the tinges of sadness that you’ll see hanging around his face in so many roles, straight and surreal. Bob wears that vulnerability. And knows when and how to flip it.

I loved his previous collection of comic essays and his memoir has me wanting to re-read that. And hoping, already, that this isn’t the final written word from Odenkirk. He’s approaching 60, taking stock of his life and his easy-read and very rewarding memoir is a blast to tear through over a weeknight or two or across a weekend.

1. When you re-watch The Cable Guy be sure to note Bob Odenkirk in a fairly unimportant, blink-and-you-might-miss-him cameo. I think he has one (over-delivered) line. But hey, it shows there’s a reason for making this comparison in this piece. You didn’t see that coming eh?