One of the schticks on this blog has been harping on actors and others who change their names. If I weren't such a procrastinator, another gripe-post would concern Fresh Air, Terry Gross' middlebrow show on NPR, in which she asks rambling, two-minute questions with yes-or-no answers, interspersed with her "I'm indulging you" phony-sounding forced laugh.
But I am not a committed critic (read: die-hard hater), and can admit that sometimes I find Terry's show entertaining or informative, and that now and then there is a name-changer worthy of respect. Even though I find Fresh Air's tendency to rush to broadcast re-runs of interviews with the recently deceased to be gross, her stale airing of an old interview with the barely cold Paul Mazursky was a rare confluence of a good episode and a great re-naming.
I guess I've been aware of some things Mazursky did, without really being able to name him. The interview fleshed out this husk of awareness, and I liked the guy, not least because he sounded genuinely interested in looking for deeper meaning, "Even though I don't expect an answer," he said, after admitting to seeking out religious experiences ranging from Catholic Mass to taking ayahuasca in Peru. He was a great interviewee, picking up threads, finding laughs, opening up without becoming maudlin or confessional. He was funny, several times making Ms. Gross erupt in unmistakenly genuine laughter, giggles even.
Then came the kicker. He was not born Paul Mazursky. It's a stage name. But not one that sought to hide his Jewish heritage, one that during a substantial portion of his career also had the handicap of sounding Russian, or some kind of commie Eastern European. No, he was born a Mazursky. Irwin Mazursky, which he changed to Paul. He kept the foreign/Jewish surname, and replaced one non-descript moniker for another. Great sense of humor, no sense of shame, and for that, I applaud this guy who I never paid that much attention to while he lived.
