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I once did a bar show with comedian Dana Gould.
Another comic, after redeeming several drink tickets, asked him, Is stand-up art?
It starts at 22:24:
I had not seen Heart Attacks since high school.
Perhaps I had subconsciously avoided it, because I was born with a congenital heart defect.
I should not have worried.
My emotions were safe in Pryors hands.
Saying them anyway cost Lenny Bruce his career a decade earlier.
Red Foxx projected a similar confidence.
Pryor was uninterested in artifice.
His ability to observe and present people as they really were was almost superhuman.
Its no wonder he tried to silence it with flames.
Pryor begins the Heart Attacks bit by saying, Had a little pain in my heart there.
It is unclear if he is joking.
His initial worried facial expressions elicit uncomfortable giggles from the audience.
It was called performing in one: The comic is a self-contained show.
But in Heart Attacks, Pryor shames us all.
Few stand-ups have ever used more of themselves physically for a bit than he does here.
Dont kill me, dont kill me.
By 23:03 he is down on one knee, literally begging for his life.
At 23:09 Pryor reveals his hearts motivation: the punishment his diet has inflicted upon it.
The way the heart punctuates the apex of the attack with the word Pork!
is brilliant, Oswalt says.
Pryor fully commits: He lies down on his back, closes his eyes, and writhes in pain.
And he has, along with ten seconds of uproarious laughs.
Can I speak to God right away, hey?
Pryor pleads at 23:49.
His prayer is blocked by an indifferent angel.
Ill have to put you on hold, Pryor says, creating a complete character for this seven-word impression.
No part of Heart Attacks is too small to warrant his careful attention.
You is a lying motherfucker!
it says, making excellent use of comedys new, hard-won freedom.
When the universe finally sends Pryor paramedics, they are all white.
A light pop-culture joke to break the tension is a smart decision, and Pryors writing is remarkably concise.
He gets four laugh breaks and actual cheers at 24:24, and the entire section is just 45 words.
Moving on from humanity at our most frightened, Pryor shows us at our most petty.
This shameful admission earns three eruptions of applause.
A brush with death we survive can still bring us low.
Youre not gonna leave here till you piss in that bottle, a nurse says.
For a cardiac patient, this bit hits home.
Pryor goes one step further and ends the bit with a human being conquering our greatest dread.
In keeping with his vulnerable, underdog approach, this person couldnt be Pryor.
His choice is inspired.
