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Rockwell has amazing source material and his audience is already in on the joke. It's an opportunity to be brilliantly funny and, even subversive. People want to know: How did he get on the Fox special? What went on backstage? How did he feel up there? How did his family react? What was Darva really like?

Instead, Rockwell gave his audience "Take my wife, please" one-liners: "What was I thinking marrying somebody named Darva Conger? It sounds like an orthopedic problem!"

At the start of his show, the audience still reeling from Rockwell's attempt at song, the formerly unknown comic was joined onstage by Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio. The ultraconservative, notoriously self-promoting Arpaio (Bill Maher once dubbed him "America's stupidest sheriff") and Rockwell had an awkward, backslapping exchange that played like a "Hee Haw" outtake as written by award show scriptwriters.

"You've already got way too much publicity, probably more than I have," the sheriff says in his toughest, wish-I-were-John Wayne drawl. "So I order you to be funny tonight."

"Watch out," warns Rockwell. "You're looking pretty good to me right now. It was a rough honeymoon."

A sheriff and an alleged stalker, how grand. It's like a direct-to-video buddy-comedy duo: Joe Arpaio is the tough-talking cop; Rick Rockwell is the wisecracking partner. Together they're chasing sound bites and slapping ex-girlfriends in "Who Wants to Get Free Publicity?"

Once on his own, Rockwell launched into his act. He never directly mentioned the ex-girlfriend who filed a restraining order against him nine years ago. But he did mention an ex-girlfriend from nine months ago, seemingly for the sole purpose of emphasizing how pretty she was.

"She's not the one you see on TV," he stressed, and the subtext was embarrassingly obvious: Just so you know, ladies, that skanky bitch badmouthing me on "Dateline" wasn't the best I could get.

And then, there were the endless Conger lines.

• "Apparently the title was supposed to be 'Who Wants to Marry a Multi-Millionaire Who's Never Made a Mistake in Their Life'!"
• "I hear Darva is very intelligent -- she speaks several languages. That must explain our vows. I heard 'till death do us part.' I guess that's Swahili for '36 hours.'"
• "I hope Darva does pose for Playboy. A man should see his bride naked at least once."
• "Everybody on TV is making fun of my house -- fuck you!"

That last one was actually kinda funny, under the circumstances. It was a rare moment when Rockwell wasn't trying so hard to be likable.

But then he would fall back once again on his Perot impersonations, Jeffrey Dahmer references and "Phoenix is so hot that ..." jokes -- material that has been cryogenically frozen since 1992. It's not that the content, or his delivery, was inept. Rockwell was very comfortable onstage. It was just that it was all too typical, two-drink-minimum nightclub shtick.

Which is sad. If you're going to milk a cult-of-celebrity disaster, you should at least aspire to say something daring -- or, if not, then attempt to impart some sort of lesson aside from "I should have picked somebody else."

Despite the singing, Arpaio and chronic lameness, the evening had one real surprise -- yet another twist in a media sensation that has already twisted itself into knots. Ready? Here it is: The audience loved Rockwell.

"Rick rocks!" shouted the overwhelmingly white, overwhelmingly khakied attendees to reporters after the performance. "He was hysterical!"

The reporters, who had caught the first half of Rockwell's gig, exchanged incredulous looks: What the hell is this?

The camera crews kept filming and kept getting more of the same. The audience loved him, and not just a little.

Two exiting Rockwell fans, both attractive young women, were snagged by an "Entertainment Tonight" crew working the lobby. They were both blond and looked not unlike young Darva Conger. Their white teeth and wide eyes nicely caught the camera's spotlight.

"I think he was great," said one. "He was even funnier than I expected!"

"I'd marry him!" said the other. "Definitely!"

As they enthused for the news crew, both women looked absolutely thrilled. They're in the game, they're part of the soap opera. They're on TV.
salon.com | March 15, 2000

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