‘Steve Martin and Martin Short: An Evening You Will Forget For The Rest Of Your Life’ On Netflix: Review

Three decades after meeting for the first time on the set of the movie ¡Three Amigos!, Steve Martin and Martin Short have enjoyed reuniting to tour the nation’s theaters time and again over the past few years. First as “A Very Stupid Conversation,” but also jokingly referring to their tours as “Sold Out,” “See Them Before They’re Dead,” “We’re Desperate For Attention and Needy As Hell,” and “If We Saved, We Wouldn’t Be Here.”

Somehow, they’ve never gone with Dos Amigos (SNL guru Lorne Michaels, who co-wrote ¡Three Amigos!, serves as an executive producer for their first Netflix special together, after all), or even better, still, Steve Martin Short, for short.

Instead, it’s Steve Martin and Martin Short: An Evening You Will Forget for the Rest of Your Life.

Don’t mistake Steve Martin’s opening monologue for a “historic return to stand-up comedy,” because he’s merely kicking off the proceedings here, much like he has done for the Academy Awards or his own musical tours with the Steep Canyon Rangers (who perform here, too).

Soon enough, Marty dashes onstage to join Steve, and if, as the saying goes, you only roast the ones you love, then these two celebrated comedians obviously love each other. “It sounds like we’re insulting each other, but we’re not. This is the way we pay compliments in Hollywood,” Steve says, by way of introducing another layer to their bit.

Their comedic chemistry illustrates their covalent bond. Marty mugs. Steve drips dry sarcasm. Steve, at 72, four years older than Marty, physically and figuratively the big brother, simultaneously reminding Short of his place in the relationship, while always holding him tight. They’ve constructed a tight, efficient show, but allowed Marty’s tendency for tangents to improvise a new line or a look, a gag, that can surprise and delight the other as much as it does the rest of the audience. In this hour, too, Steve flubs a line about filming the special in Greenville, but quickly recovers with a joke about his unforced error, and they both have a laugh about it, deciding to keep it in the production. They can self-deprecate their own childhood photos as proficiently as they can rib one another’s, too.

Their stage production includes 10-to-15-minute segments for each to carry the spotlight individually, as well as another 15 minutes together in comfy chairs for a nostalgic “In Conversation” session in which they reminisce about meeting and working with even bigger stars in their youth.

Of the two comedians, Marty is much more likely to incorporate topical jokes into his act. For instance, he generates applause, even in South Carolina, by describing himself and Canadians as “we’re the aliens you don’t deport.”

When he’s done with his solo set with a nearly nude Off Broadway song-and-dance, he barks at Steve, walking onstage with his banjo, with a “Top that, motherf—er!” Steve has plenty of jokes at the ready, still, but his banjo-playing has remained sincere and true for decades. And truth be told, Steve Martin has won more Grammy Awards for his instrumental work (three) than for his comedy albums (two).

Marty’s biggest hit has been his celebrity interviewer character, Jiminy Glick.

If you didn’t like Michelle Wolf’s jokes at this year’s White House Correspondents Dinner, then it’s safe to say you will hate Jiminy’s jokes in a segment commenting on photos of current celebrities and political figures. Marty as Jiminy goes for superficial digs on appearances rather than on substance, and in Jiminy’s worldview, the more offensive the dig, the funnier. Sarah Huckabee Sanders and Trump supporters would have a much better appreciation for Wolf’s keynote address after hearing what Jiminy has to say about her (“Oh, I loved her as Mrs. Doubtfire” and “How is she not named Bertha?”) and them. Even Democrat Elizabeth Warren gets dismissed as “I had no idea David Spade was transitioning.”

Steve and Marty and the whole band takes the stage for a final song and then some.

In this hour-plus, Steve describes the phenomenon of “left-handed compliments” where fans and family members think they’re flattering you when really they’re insulting you.

Please let me tell you and them, that a fun Netflix special to watch before or after this one is Oh, Hello on Broadway. Nick Kroll and John Mulaney have the same magical comedy chemistry as Steve Martin and Martin Short. Now if you imagine Oh, Hello not as Kroll and Mulaney portraying elderly wannabes or has-beens, but as two still-got-its, then you’d have Martin and Short.

They still got it. And we’re lucky to still have ’em.

Sean L. McCarthy works the comedy beat for his own digital newspaper, The Comic’s Comic; before that, for actual newspapers. Based in NYC but will travel anywhere for the scoop: Ice cream or news. He also tweets @thecomicscomic and podcasts half-hour episodes with comedians revealing origin stories: The Comic’s Comic Presents Last Things First.

Watch Steve Martin and Martin Short: An Evening You Will Forget for the Rest of Your Life on Netflix