Richard Pryor, comic, writer, television and film star was the first African American stand-up comedian to speak candidly and successfully to integrated audiences using the language and jokes African Americans previously only shared among themselves when they were most critical of America.

Richard Pryor, the only child of Leroy Pryor and Gertrude Thomas Pryor, was born in Peoria, Ill., on Dec. 1, 1940, and raised in a household where, as he wrote, "I lived among an assortment of relatives, neighbors, whores and winos - the people who inspired a lifetime of comedic material." His parents and grandmother ran a string of bars and bordellos that catered to a constant influx of transients who moved in and out of town, which was such an important stop on the black and white vaudeville circuits that it inspired the expression, "Will it play in Peoria?"

A frail child, he learned how to use his quick wit and belligerent humor to gain respect from street gangs and bigger, more aggressive peers. But the antic behavior that served him well in the streets did not translate to the classroom, and he was expelled from school in the eighth grade despite his obvious talent and intelligence. During the remainder of his teens, he worked as a truck driver, a laborer and a factory worker, then joined the Army, where he served in Germany until he was discharged after stabbing another serviceman during a fight.

He returned to Peoria, married, became the father of a son, Richard Jr., and, inspired by the television appearances of Redd Foxx and Dick Gregory, began performing in local nightclubs. In 1962, a variety act offered him a job as a master of ceremonies; leaving his wife and child behind, he began touring, appearing at small black nightclubs in East St. Louis, Cleveland, Chicago, Pittsburgh and Youngstown.

In 1963, after honing his craft on the "chitlin circuit," Mr. Pryor decided to take a crack at New York City. He felt ready to compete with the "big cats" and to try to emulate the success of Bill Cosby, the comedian he most admired. Soon, he was appearing at Greenwich Village clubs like Cafe Wha?, The Living Room, Papa Hud's and the Bitter End.

Mr. Pryor made his national television debut on Rudy Vallee's "On Broadway Tonight" in 1964. He had, in his own words, "entered the mainstream," presenting "white bread," nonoffensive humor that freely copied the styles of other comedians, particularly Mr. Cosby. He worked the Catskills resort hotels and opened for the singer Billy Eckstine at the Apollo Theater in Harlem. Big-time television appearances followed on "The Ed Sullivan Show" and Johnny Carson's "Tonight Show." Two years after his arrival in New York, he had a national reputation.

Despite his growing popularity, Mr. Pryor was frustrated. "I made a lot of money being Bill Cosby," he recalled, "but I was hiding my personality. I just wanted to be in show business so bad I didn't care how. It started bothering me - I was being a robot comic, repeating the same lines, getting the same laughs for the same jokes. The repetition was killing me."

In 1967, Mr. Pryor stormed off the stage of the Aladdin Hotel in Las Vegas, shouting, "What am I doing here? I'm not going to do this anymore!"

In his autobiography, he recalled: "There was a world of junkies and winos, pool hustlers and prostitutes, women and family screaming inside my head, trying to be heard. The longer I kept them bottled up, the harder they tried to escape. The pressure built till I went nuts."

Despite resistance from club owners, booking agents and advisers, he began listening to those voices, developing new material during the next few years served straight from the black experience, even embracing the street vernacular use of the word "nigger."

His first comedy album, "Richard Pryor" (1967) revealed his new direction with such routines as: "I always wanted to go to the movies and see a black hero. I figured maybe on television they'll have it - Look, up in the sky! It's a crow. It's a bat. No, it's Super Nigger. Able to leap tall buildings with a single bound; faster than a bowl of chitlins."

After a two year hiatus in Berkeley where he spent time reading Malcolm X's work, visiting bars, clubs and street corners to observe people, and collaborating with a group of African American writers later known as the "Black Pack," Pryor returned to performing. A metamorphosis took place during those two years and Pryor offered his audiences a new collection of characters, earthy metaphors, and the tough, rough profane language of the streets.

When he returned to show business in Los Angeles, his comedy had changed radically. After seeing his revised act, Mr. Cosby said: "Richard Pryor took on a whole new persona, his own. Richard killed the Bill Cosby in his act, made people hate it. Then he worked on them, doing pure Pryor, and it was the most astonishing metamorphosis I have ever seen. He was magnificent."

Some of his new material appeared on his second album, "Craps (After Hours)" (1971), which was recorded at the Redd Foxx Club in Hollywood. He boldly engaged sensitive racial topics, mocking police harassment of blacks and exploring differences between white and black sexual attitudes.

Although "Craps" is considered one of Mr. Pryor's best comedy albums, initial sales were dismal. Even the black audience for whom it was intended largely ignored it.

Mr. Pryor persisted, however, developing his act and building a new following by returning to the small black clubs that he had abandoned with his initial success. He also appeared at better-known and challenging venues like the Apollo in Harlem and more cutting-edge comedy clubs downtown like The Improv.

The routines developed on those dates provided material for his next album, "That Nigger's Crazy" (1974), which surprised record-industry executives with its appeal to young whites as well as blacks. Despite its X-rating because of explicit language and sexual content, the record sold more than a half-million copies and won the Grammy Award for best comedy album of the year. It was followed by another X-rated album, " . . . Is It Something I Said" (1975), which also went gold and won another Grammy.

Mr. Pryor's body language conveyed the ambivalence - at once belligerent and defensive - of the black male's provisional stance in society. His monologues evoked the passions and foibles of all segments of black society, including working-class, church-going people and prostitutes, pimps and hustlers. It was revolutionary humor. Pryor's characters introduced to his audiences persons from black folklore as well as characters from the streets of Anytown, U.S.A. He integrated his personal style of comedy with commentary on the social condition.

He unleashed a galaxy of street characters who traditionally had been embarrassments to most middle-class blacks and mere stereotypes to most whites. And he presented them so truthfully and hilariously that he was able to transcend racial boundaries and capture a huge audience of admirers in virtually every ethnic, economic and cultural group in America. In 1998, he received the Kennedy Center's award for humor, the Mark Twain Prize.

Mr. Pryor's crossover appeal derived largely from his innovative approach to comedy - what Rolling Stone magazine called "a new type of realistic theater." It was essentially comedy without jokes - re-enactments of common human exchanges that not only mirrored the pretensions of the characters portrayed but also subtly revealed the minor triumphs that allowed them to endure and even prevail over the bleak realities of everyday living.

"Comedy," he said, "is when you are driving along and see a couple of dudes and one is in trouble with the others and he's trying to talk his way out of it. You say, 'Oh boy, they got him,' and you laugh. I cannot tell jokes. My comedy is not comedy as society has defined it."

In his autobiography, "Pryor Convictions," written in 1995 with Todd Gold, he allows Mudbone, the down-home raconteur who was perhaps Mr. Pryor's most unforgettable character and in many ways his alter ego, to comment, "the truth is gonna be funny, but it's gonna scare . . . folks."

In fact, Mr. Pryor's often harsh observations and explicit language did offend some audiences. But he insistently presented characters with little or no distortion. "A lie is profanity," he explained. "A lie is the worst thing in the world. Art is the ability to tell the truth, especially about oneself."

His popularity skyrocketed and his career as a stand-up comedian expanded to that of a television and film star.

The Richard Pryor Show premiered on NBC in 1977 and rocked the censors until, only after five shows, the series was canceled. Television was not ready for his explosive talent and Pryor was not ready to alter the content of his program. He portrayed the first African-American president of the United States and in another skit, used costumes end visual distortion to appear nude. Simultaneously, his concert films, full of his impersonations, cockiness, and assertiveness, and balanced by his perceptive vulnerability achieved wide audience appeal and became legendary in their content. Richard Pryor: Live in Concert (1979), considered by critics one of his best concert films and his first concert released to theaters, showcased Pryor and his unique ability to capture ethnic humor and make it acceptable to a mainstream audience. Pryor appeared on numerous television programs and served as a co-writer for Blazing Saddles and a writer for Sanford and Son, The Flip Wilson Show and The Lily Tomlin Special for which he won an Emmy in 1974.

Even though his early movie roles are forgettable, film served as another venue for Pryor's dangerous and uncontrollable personality. Lady Sings the Blues was the turning point. As the Piano Man, Pryor proved he was capable of sustaining a supporting role in a dramatic film. He added life and vitality to the role and to the film. After Lady Sings the Blues, he starred or co-starred in The Mack (1973), Hit (1973), Uptown Saturday Night (1974), Car Wash (1976), The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars and MotorKings (1976), and Silver Streak(1976). Co-starring In Silver Streak served as another breakthrough for Pryor and he soon received starring roles in Which Way is Up? (1977) and Greased Lightning (1977) among others. His record albums, full of his special humor and street wise characters, topped the charts; That Nigger's Crazy (1974), Is It Something I Said (1975), Bicentennial Nigger (1976), Wanted, Richard Pryor Live and in Concert (1979).

His visit to Kenya in 1979 was life-changing and resulted in a condemnation of the word nigger. His abandonment of the word in his stage performances attracted death threats, hate mail and attacks on his home from some deranged former fans. But he stuck to his beliefs, never losing any of his funny.

In 1980 Pryor received third degree burns over most of his body while, it was reported, he was freebasing cocaine. The response to this tragedy was overwhelming and Pryor received attention from the media as well as from citizens throughout the United States. He returned to the large screen to complete Bustin' Loose, then went on to receive rave reviews for his concert films, Richard Pryor: Live on Sunset Strip(1982) and Richard Pryor: Hear and Now (1983). The autobiographical film, Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling (1986) offered his audiences some insight into his troubled personal life.

After his accident Pryor's other star movies did not portray the comic as the dynamic, controversial storyteller he became after his exile in Berkeley. The roles in his latter films presented a meeker more timid person and in The Toy (1982), he literally played the toy for a spoiled white child. This character and his dialogue were a far cry from the Pryor persona most admired by his audiences.

Stricken with Multiple Sclerosis in the 1990s Pryor appeared on television talk shows and toured infrequently. He still played to sold out audiences, but the old fire and cutting edge rhetoric evident in his monologues of the 1970s was missing. Pryor in the 1970s would never allow a heckler to intrude on his story and ruin his timing. The Pryor of the 1990s, weak and deeply affected by his disease, did not give the quick, biting and sarcastic comeback that would always silence a brave heckler from the audience.

Richard Pryor and his comic style emancipated African-American humor and his influence and ascendancy crushed boundaries and opened frontiers in comedy unheard of until he appeared on the concert stage. A testament to his influence was evident in a September 1991 televised gala tribute to Pryor presented by comic stars.

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