Standing Back Up

By Michele Orecklin

No matter what you may have heard about her parenting skills, Paula Poundstone considers herself a fairly typical single mother. She helps with homework, reads bedtime stories and spends endless hours chauffeuring her three kids, ages 13, 10 and 6. But she does acknowledge certain aberrations. In her current act, the comedian jokes that one of the videos they all watch together is One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. "Against that backdrop," she says, "Mom looks pretty good."

The line scores well, in part because it helps dispel the tension of audience members, few of whom could have missed the fact that three years ago, Poundstone, 44, was embroiled in a lurid scandal. In 2001 her children, all of whom are adopted, were removed from her custody when she was arrested on a felony charge of child endangerment for driving under the influence with her kids in the car. However disturbing the conviction, it paled next to allegations that she had sexually abused two of the children, or, in the unforgettable words of the court, "committed a lewd act upon a minor," charges that, with little fanfare, were later dropped. Poundstone regained custody of her children after a court-ordered six-month stay in a rehab center, but she remains on probation and is required to attend Alcoholics Anonymous (A.A.).

As career enders go, her transgressions dwarfed the infractions of stars like the shoplifting Winona Ryder or the philandering Hugh Grant. But unlike Grant, who publicly--and effectively--offered contrition, Poundstone refuses to pander to win back her audience. "I was sentenced to A.A. on national television," she says during her routine. "That pretty much blows the hell out of the second A." She refers to rehab as "stupid" and argues that not only have A.A. meetings proved ineffective, but it was unconstitutional for a judge to compel her to attend. "I'm an atheist," she says. "Everyone tries to say that God is not a part of A.A., but the third step states pretty clearly that you have to turn yourself over to a higher power."

Still, she doesn't deny her role in events. "I see now there were signs," she says, "but I was drunk, so they were kind of blurry and went by really fast." If her show sounds like a downer, it's not. Though she has never been the kind of comic to stack up one-liners, she manages, over two rambling hours, to take aim at the standard fodder--politicians, pets, audience members--in the same slightly exasperated and self-mocking tone that made her such a success in the 1990s when she played large auditoriums and had two HBO specials and (briefly) her own talk show on ABC.

The venues are smaller now, but the bookings are picking up. Most of the 54 dates on her current tour are sold out, and she scored what seemed like the ultimate absolution in July when she was invited to perform on the Late Show with David Letterman.

Though Poundstone denies doing so intentionally, she manages to wring considerable humor out of being a felon (one of her best-received jokes is a line about being an important element of her Neighborhood Watch). "All I want is to be entertaining," she says. "I don't have any great lessons to share, except this: get your criminal attorney now. Should something go south, you won't have the luxury of shopping around." --By Michele Orecklin