Stanley Myron Handleman, a soft-spoken Brooklyn comedian known for his surreal deadpan humor and trademark flat newsboy cap, died of a heart attack on August 5, 2007, at Mission Community Hospital in Panorama City, California. He was 77 years old. Born on November 21, 1929, in Brooklyn, Handleman was the son of a furrier and was voted class comedian when he graduated from high school. He began his career as a resort entertainment director in the Catskills before performing at New York comedy clubs like The Bitter End and The Hungry Eye in the late 1950s.
With his tall, gangly frame, stooped posture, and oversized glasses, Handleman delivered quiet, cerebral humor in a soft-spoken Brooklyn voice. By the late 1960s, he had become a familiar television presence, appearing as a regular on “Dean Martin Presents the Gold Diggers” in 1968 and 1969, often playing a down-on-his-luck pushcart salesman. He made roughly ten appearances on “The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson” and was a frequent guest on “The Ed Sullivan Show,” “The Merv Griffin Show,” and “The Flip Wilson Show. ” Handleman also opened for Frank Sinatra on multiple occasions and headlined at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas in 1970.
In 1971, he released the comedy album “Spiro T. Agnew Is a Riot. ” His film credits included “Harvey Middleman, Fireman” in 1965 and a small role in “Linda Lovelace for President” in 1975. Handleman shared a close friendship with Rodney Dangerfield and wrote material for him for many years.
In his will, Dangerfield left Handleman two bequests: a lump sum of $10,000 upon his death and $800 a month for the rest of Handleman’s life. His personal life was more complicated; he was married and divorced four times. As the big television variety shows faded in the 1970s, Handleman’s high-profile performing career slowed. He took a few more acting roles before devoting himself to teaching stand-up comedy in Los Angeles, coaching aspiring comics and producing student showcases called the Flying Handlemans.
Though a memorial service was planned, details of his final resting place were not publicly recorded. Handleman never reached the household-name status of some contemporaries, but during a shining stretch in the late 1960s and early 1970s, he was a reliable source of intelligent, understated comedy.