A Biting
Breakfast of Champions
By Chris Sabga
 |
Where do I even begin
with the bizarre "My Breakfast with Blassie"? It was, first
and most obviously, a spoof of the movie "My Dinner with Andre."
It was also a strange piece of performance art from comedian and
actor Andy Kaufman, who was always looking for a controversial
reaction. And it served as a late-career showcase for "Classy"
Freddie Blassie, who was one of the most feared and despised
professional wrestling villains of the '50s, '60s, '70s, and '80s.
Some background:
Prior to filming "My
Breakfast with Blassie" in 1983, Kaufman made the improbable
decision to become a pro wrestler. He first faced women in
inter-gender matches, much to the chagrin of just about everyone. A
progressive Billie Jean King vs. Bobby Riggs moment this was not –
nor was it meant to be, of course. A far cry from the sweet and
innocent Latka character he portrayed on the hit television show
"Taxi," Kaufman's aim inside a wrestling ring was to anger
and incite. That led, naturally, to a match between Kaufman and a
male wrestler – Jerry "The
King" Lawler – which ended with Kaufman's neck being
"broken." Then Kaufman took it a step further by getting
into an "altercation" with Lawler on national television
during "The David Letterman Show."
All of this would be
seen as an obvious show business stunt today, but things were much
different back then. While enough people certainly understood that
pro wrestling was more entertainment than sport, there were still
fans who believed, or at least wanted to believe – and no
one quite knew what was real and what wasn't when it came to Andy
Kaufman. The actor and comedian even spent several days in the
hospital after the Lawler match to sell the "injuries he
sustained." To further the illusion, he wore a neck brace
on-camera for "My Breakfast with Blassie."
Perhaps Kaufman was
inspired by the villainy of Freddie Blassie? At one point, Blassie
utilized a "vampire" gimmick where he would grotesquely
file his teeth and bite his opponents until they bled. According to
pro wrestling lore (and repeated in this movie), so shocking was this
repulsive spectacle that it triggered a series of heart attacks and
eventual deaths among some of the Japanese fans. I have my doubts,
but why let that get in the way of a damn good story?
The movie itself:
"My Breakfast with
Blassie" is not pretty to look at or listen to. It was shot on
ancient videotape and it sounds tinny throughout. But none of that
really matters. After all, no one is watching this curious oddity for
its cinematography.
It takes place in
California at a diner called Sambo's, which named itself right out of
business by evoking harmful racial stereotypes. Somehow, I suspect
Kaufman knew what he was doing when he chose the location.
Early on, Blassie
paternally rubs a pregnant waitress's belly. However, before you
think one of the great wrestling bad guys has gone soft, he cackles
that they "don't have to tip her so much when we leave now."
He later remarks that she's "another one we're gonna have to
feed on welfare." It's a horrible, wince-inducing comment. Was
Blassie part of the act, in on the joke, or was Kaufman stringing him
along too? Keep in mind that Blassie was a consummate showman
himself, and the last thing he would have done in his era was "break
character" – especially in front of the camera.
Another great exchange
involves wet wipes that Blassie brought with him from Japan (his wife
was from there). Blassie tries to persuade Kaufman that they're
useful for public bathrooms and dealing with fans. This was in a time before OCD was openly recognized, accepted, and celebrated.
Even though we know now
(courtesy of IMDb
and other sources) that all of the "customers" in the
restaurant were hired to be there, "My Breakfast with Blassie"
still provides an interesting look at what celebrities have to go
through day after day. Even something simple as eating breakfast is
routinely interrupted by fans seeking autographs or just wanting a
few moments of their time. "Don't sign autographs for these
ding-a-lings!" Blassie barks at one point.
Two of the people in
the restaurant were Lynne Margulies ("Legs"), Kaufman's
future girlfriend – they actually met during the filming of this –
and Bob Zmuda (as the fan who vomited on the table), his longtime
writing partner. They were later portrayed by Courtney Love and Paul
Giamatti, respectively, in the 1999 biopic about Kaufman, "Man
on the Moon." The waitress, though, apparently really worked
there.
Wrestling fans will
enjoy hearing Blassie recount stories about his reigns as a
"champeen" and matches against legends such as Rikidozan,
and Kaufman aficionados will certainly appreciate this intimate
glimpse of his creative genius and madness. (Sadly, Kaufman died a year later of lung cancer.)
When I first discovered
"My Breakfast with Blassie" two decades ago, probably on
Comedy Central, I think I took it at face value much more
wholeheartedly. But with age comes wisdom, and my eyes were wide open
during my most recent viewing. Still, that in no way diminishes the
ridiculous kitsch appeal of what's on display here. While I cannot in
good conscience call this a "great movie," if you're a fan
of either Andy Kaufman or Freddie Blassie specifically, or Hollywood
or pro wrestling in general, this "Breakfast" is certainly
worth a bite. But you may need a wet wipe afterward.
