Phil Rosenthal is exactly the person you think he is. Speaking from his home in Los Angeles between sips of his morning coffee, the presenter of Somebody Feed Phil patiently explains that he can hear me but he can’t see me. Cleary I’m less tech savvy than Rosenthal’s octogenarian parents in the early seasons of his Netflix travel show and I cannot help bemoaning my luck at having these issues when speaking to perhaps the world’s most famous Zoom user. He laughs and I ask him a Curb Your Enthusiasm question pertaining to a poker scene he shot 20 years ago. He calls that one a “deep cut” and we are both grinning although, of course, he doesn’t know that I am.
Rosenthal is speaking to me ahead of a UK tour that will begin at The London Palladium at the start of April. When I ask what people can expect from the live version of a food and travel documentary series, he deadpans: “I’m going to walk on stage, eat a sandwich and then leave. People watch me eat on the show and you’ve got to give the people what they want.”
The comedy writer who created Everybody Loves Raymond clearly can’t resist opening with a joke:
“I’m only telling the Jewish News this because I want people to have something to complain about. We enjoy nothing more than saying, ‘That wasn’t worth the money. Why would we pay to see that?’”
This is a man who clearly knows his audience but he does eventually explain the actual contents of the show. “We show a little highlight reel of the series and then I come out with a moderator and tell, hopefully, funny stories about my life and Everybody Loves Raymond and Somebody Feeds Phil and the time between the two shows as well as behind the scenes stuff. And I hope to be able to tell you where I go for season 8, which will be coming on soon. The second half of the show is a Q&A with the audience.”
Somebody Feed Phil
Rosenthal says getting Somebody Feed Phil on the air was far from plain sailing. He was known exclusively as a comedy writer until 2010 when he wrote, directed and produced Exporting Raymond, an extraordinary documentary about efforts to create a Russian version of his beloved American sitcom. Watching the film a decade and a half later, it is clear his destiny was to step in front of the camera. He remains warm and amicable even when faced with constant provocation as the Russian crew, from writers to costume designers, question and belittle his magnum opus while attempting to adapt it for a Soviet audience. One suspects his old friend Larry David would not have behaved quite so magnanimously.
When the film aired on HBO, many people felt its star was a natural and should do more work on camera. Rosenthal had always dreamed of making a food and travel show but “the hard part was getting people to back it because they don’t like you switching lanes in Hollywood”.
The transition from writer to presenter was one he relished since “writing is hard, eating is easy”. What viewers respond to, across all Rosenthal’s work, is the sanguine nature of the man. He insists he’s not always as cheerful as he seems on screen, however. “I’m cheery and happy doing the show. This is a dream of mine and I happen to love most other people so you’re seeing me at my best. I’m still a person, I’m still Jewish and I still watch the news. The happy and cheery part is my escape. Laughing is the great escape because, when you’re laughing, you’re literally forgetting your troubles.”
Inspired by his father, the young Rosenthal came to the conclusion that “a sense of humour was the greatest human trait you could possess”. He would still like to do more scripted comedy and finds the lack of new sitcoms and comedy movies baffling, “especially at a time when we need them”. The television veteran believes necessity is the mother of invention, though, and: “The worse things get in the world, the more people will be seeking out escapes… Great sitcoms will return.”
One return that is not imminent involves Somebody Feed Phil and Israel. Rosenthal “would love to return to the Middle East in general” when he considers it safe to do so and just wants “an end to suffering”. He is, he explains, “on the side of all the innocents”.
He does not believe Jews have a unique relationship with food since his travels have shown him that a love of eating is universal. The food in the show, however, he considers of secondary importance: “The real message of the show is connecting with people who aren’t exactly like me. That’s the point. Food is the great connector but laughs are the cement.”
This leads us to comedy icon Elaine May, Rosenthal’s great friend, who has a memorable cameo in the New York episode of his show in which, like a character in one of her movies, she somehow ends up with an ice cream cone in her hair: “When you eat with Elaine, you won’t believe how she’s managed to become a placemat.”
When a member of his team interrupts to tell us we’ve run out of time, Rosenthal is generous enough to complain before offering me a ticket for the Palladium show with the instruction that I come backstage to chat more. It is further proof that he deserves all the success even if he considers himself “the luckiest man” I will ever speak to. On the night, he will undoubtedly prove, once again, that he is a mensch. I will be able to prove, if nothing else, that I have a face.
Phil Rosenthal is at The London Palladium on 2 April and then on tour. lwtheatres.co.uk
