‘The Road Dog’: Every line, every sad club feels real in portrait of a self-destructive comic

Veteran stand-up Doug Stanhope gives a brilliant performance as a comedian who squandered every chance at happiness and stardom.

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Jimmy (Doug Stanhope, left) hangs out while son David (Des Mulrooney) meets fans in “The Road Dog.”

Jimmy (Doug Stanhope, left) hangs out while son David (Des Mulrooney) meets fans in “The Road Dog.”

Freestyle Digital Media

We live in a time when stand-up comedy has never been bigger but is also on life support. If you’re Jim Gaffigan or Jerry Seinfeld or Amy Schumer or Kevin Hart, you can fill huge arenas, and your filmed stand-up specials on Netflix or HBO will net you millions of dollars. But if you’re one of those road warriors who scrapes out a living as the middle act at Carolines on Broadway, Mark Ridley’s Comedy Castle in Royal Oak, Michigan, the Punchline in Sandy Springs, Georgia, and Zanies in Chicago, it’s a grind at best.

The glory days of the 1980s and 1990s, when it seemed like there was a comedy club on every corner and every semi-recognizable name was getting a book deal and a sitcom, are long gone.

Ladies and gentlemen, keep it going and give it up for Jimmy Quinn, the headline act in director and co-writer (and Chicago native) Greg Glienna’s “The Road Dog,” a bittersweet and almost painfully accurate slice of stand-up life starring Doug Stanhope, who gives a brilliant performance playing a variation of himself: a singularly talented, self-destructive, alcoholic comedian who could have been a huge star if not for his tendency to implode onstage and in his personal life.

‘The Road Dog’

Untitled

Freestyle Digital Media presents a film directed by Greg Glienna and written by Glienna and Tony Boswell. Running time: 105 minutes. No MPAA rating. Available Friday on demand.

Filmed in the Chicago area, this is an authentic-feeling Midwestern comedy/drama where there’s always snow on the ground and most folks wears layers even when they’re inside to ward off the chill, and every drink, every meal, every depressingly threadbare comedy hut and motel room, every line of dialogue feels real.

Jimmy Quinn is a caustic, semi-legendary stand-up comic who kicks off every appearance by saying, “My name is Jimmy, and I’m an alcoholic,” which isn’t particularly funny but is definitely true. After a typically long and bumpy night, Jimmy is awakened at his motel room door by his son David (Des Mulrooney), whom he hasn’t seen in nearly 20 years.

David informs Jimmy he’s quit medical school to pursue his dreams of becoming a stand-up comic, and he’s on his way to New York City to pursue that dream. Jimmy literally hitches a ride with David, with stops along the way. David sees this as an opportunity to get to know his father and learn the craft of stand-up from the best. Jimmy sees this as a ride to his next handful of gigs.

From Jimmy’s ominous and persistent cough (uh-oh) through stops to see Jimmy’s sister and his estranged father and the only woman he ever loved, through the bonding and the clashing, and then more bonding and clashing with his son, we know exactly where “The Road Dog” is taking us, but Glienna (who wrote the independent movie that was adapted into “Meet the Parents”) knows this territory well.

Stanhope perfectly captures the mindset of many a comedian, including the jealousy Jimmy feels for a former protégé (Chicago’s Calvin Evans) who has made it big. Jimmy is an artist and a purist, but he’s also an ass- - - - who squandered every chance he had to become a star and to have a worthwhile life offstage. He knows that, and he wants to change that, but he also knows it’s probably too late, and that is the tragedy and the truth of “The Road Dog.”

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