Booklife Review

A wild Bronx Cheer of a novel, this sharp satire from Walter (author of Essentials of Screenwriting) opens with Dwight Bridges, a proudly antisemitic Buick dealer, discovering in the late 1970s that he’s been transformed into Richie Ritchie, a beloved Jewish comedian. As Dwight Bridges, he blames the Jews for the gas shortage, which has tanked his car sales. As Richie Ritchie, he’s compelled to perform onstage at the “fabulous Starshine Dome of the phenomenal Desert Goliath Hotel, Country Club, Resort, Spa, and Casino,” where his effort to explain the cosmic mixup—“I’m an automobile dealer from Hoggzswallow Hollow, West Virginia”—brings the house down.

What follows is a non-linear chronicle of mishaps that, with punchlines, cameos, and a strong critical eye, tackles pervasive issues—bigotry, racism, hate. Dwight-Richie meets diverse characters such as the Shah of Iran, the president of the United States, a rabbi who indirectly challenges his perception of Jews, and even faces a TV appearance with Mel Brooks, Jerry Lewis, Don Rickles, and Milton Berle himself. (Those luminaries moon him.) Meanwhile, the original Dwight Bridges and his friends are embroiled in allegations of vandalizing their local synagogue. At some point, rabbis, reporters, and police officers argue whether or not to publicize the crime, making a point of its possible dual impact: would exposing it shame the vandals or provoke others to follow up? “Throughout our history we Jews eternally face this dilemma," the rabbi said. "Pretend and ignore, or confront and let the chips fly.”

Walter brings this ingenious and ironic premise with brisk comic scene craft, pitch-perfect recreations of old-school showbiz and comedy, and a spirit of fierce moral inquiry. Deadpan is a scream, the laughs not diminishing its thematic depth, and that seriousness of intent never undercutting the comedy. (The setpiece featuring Berle and co. is worth the price of admission.) A Watermelon Man for the Borscht Belt, Deadpan delights and provokes, rich in urgent political and humanitarian insights along with laughs.

Takeaway: Sharp comic story of an antisemite transformed into a beloved Jewish comedian.

Comparable Titles: Mikołaj Grynberg’s I’d Like to Say Sorry, But There’s No One to Say Sorry To, Paul Beatty's The Sellout.

Production grades
Cover: A-
Design and typography: A
Illustrations: N/A
Editing: A
Marketing copy: A