The Jerky Boys - 1995 The New York Times

The Jerky Boys Parlay Crank Calls Into Big Bucks

By Dimitri Ehrlich

March 5, 1995

AN UNSUSPECTING ACCORDION repairman answers the phone and is harangued for several minutes by a gruff-voiced man named Frank Rizzo. Virtually bursting with irate, manic intensity, Rizzo claims that his wife bought an accordion from the shop the day before and found a dead animal inside it. He tells the repairman that he damaged the accordion while using it to beat his wife. Before hanging up, Rizzo has called the repairman (who remains patient to the point of absurdity) a "sizzle-chest," a "fruitcake" and "jerky."

Rizzo's voice belongs to 33-year-old John Brennan. He and his partner, Kamal Ahmed, 28, make up the comedy duo known as the Jerky Boys. The twosome, whose noms de comedy are Johnny B. and Kamal, have recorded two albums of crank phone calls. (Their unwitting participants are real people who later gave their permission to be included in the albums.) The Jerky Boys recently added to their list of accomplishments a movie, a soundtrack album, a book, a series of special MTV promotional spots and a personalized calling card.

Their prominence has grown out of a cult following on college campuses, and their shtick -- frat party humor that jabs an elbow in your ribs with jokes about warts, random beatings and excessive drinking -- is far from sophisticated.

Their first albums, "Jerky Boys" and "Jerky Boys II," have sold nearly one million copies each. The second album was nominated for a Grammy Award as best comedy album this year and entered the Billboard pop chart at No. 12 -- the highest debut ever for a comedy album.

Their movie grossed $4.4 million the weekend it opened, and their publisher, HarperCollins, recently shipped 100,000 copies of the book. Their fans include Tom Jones, Ozzy Osbourne and Alan Arkin, all of whom appear with them in the movie, whose executive producers, Emilio Estevez and Tony Danza, also count themselves as die-hard fans.

Despite the Jerky Boys' following, no one is calling them comedic geniuses. So what explains such a broad response to crude and occasionally insulting crank calls by a self-styled "couple of low lifes from Queens"? The answer may lie in their spontaneity and realism and in the perverse pleasure they offer of listening in on someone being duped. They vent frustration with the directness of Beavis and Butt-head and a refreshing lack of propriety that gets a gut-level reaction from fans. Their sendups of minority stereotypes walk a fine line between bigotry and satire.

Being a multiethnic team (Mr. Ahmed is of Bangladeshi-Trinidadian descent; Mr. Brennan is Irish-American) has insulated the Jerky Boys from accusations of ethnic insensitivity. But while their jokes beg not to be taken seriously, the cover of their first album bears a warning that it "may offend most people."

Krin Gabbard, the author of "Psychiatry and the Cinema," compares the Jerky Boys' success to that of movies like "Forrest Gump" and "Billy Madison." "It reflects a populist anti-intellectualism, and a nostalgic celebration of simplicity," Mr. Gabbard says. "Their popularity points to an idealization of childishness: it's harmless, it's comfortable, and it's an escape from the political. When they make fun of minorities, you can't complain, because they present themselves as innocent of politics.

"The P.C. movement has deprived us of fun, and the Jerky Boys are restoring it, cynically, because they know damn well what they're doing," he adds. "But they protect themselves from charges of bad politics in the name of simple fun and end up making their critics look like curmudgeons."

The realism in their act has also been a big factor in the Jerky Boys' popularity, just as it has been in many forms of entertainment, from rap music to tabloid television shows like "Cops" to movies like "Hoop Dreams," the acclaimed documentary about two young urban basketball players.

"The appealing thing about the Jerky Boys is that it's not staged," says Page Hamilton, guitarist for the alternative rock band Helmet, who contributed a song to the soundtrack in addition to appearing in the film. "It's sort of like 'All in the Family' syndrome, where you've got Archie Bunker, who is a realistic character, and yet he makes you feel superior because he's such an idiot. But I don't find the Jerky Boys racist or homophobic. I think they sort of pick on everybody."

ANOTHER CLUE TO THE PUZZLE of their success is that their act relies on a proven formula: a bawdier version of what kept the television show "Candid Camera" on the air for so long. "Part of their appeal derives from the fact that we are being let in on a joke that someone else is oblivious to," says Rick Horgan, the executive editor at HarperCollins. "It's also funny to see how programmed many people are in business settings to give the customer the benefit of the doubt."

The Jerky Boys started out in 1986, when Mr. Brennan, who had just moved into his first apartment in Queens, invited his friend Mr. Ahmed over for a few beers. For amusement, they recorded some crank calls and made copies of the cassettes for friends and family. "It was a totally innocent thing," recalls Mr. Brennan. "All we knew was that when people heard the tapes, they would cry and gag. Everyone laughed like you've never seen anyone laugh before."

Initially, the twosome made only about a dozen phone calls in less than a week. During that time, they created several characters: Rizzo; Sol Rosenberg, a highly afflicted neurotic, and Jack Tors, a gay model.

After making those first recordings, they continued with their regular jobs: Mr. Brennan ran a construction company, and Mr. Ahmed, a bassist, was a session musician. What they did not know was that their friends had duplicated the tape for others and they, in turn, circulated them widely. Six months after making the tapes, Mr. Ahmed was in a bar in New York when he overheard people laughing and talking about them.

"They told me they were from Pittsburgh and that the tape was a big college thing," he says. "And that's the beauty of this whole thing. We didn't think of it as a money maker. We just wanted to make fun of ourselves. And people started bootlegging the tape to such a degree that eventually, the record company said, 'Gee, these guys have been well known for years, the public is already sold on them, and there's a proven market for the stuff.' "

Fred Munao, president and chief executive of Select Records, which began releasing the Jerky Boys' albums in 1993, was one of those who had stumbled across those bootlegged tapes. He tracked down the two and signed them to his label three years ago. He believes they have become a hit because deep down they are old-fashioned jokesters who give listeners a vicarious thrill.

"People love hearing a character like Frank Rizzo unload on people because they all wish they could do that," Mr. Munao says. "But the Jerky Boys never call the police or the fire department, and their humor's not really malicious. Since I put out their albums, I've had all kinds of people submit similar kinds of things and gotten a great education in how easy it is to try and do the same thing but end up being threatening or just plain stupid."