Singer, dancer, actress, comedian, producer. Zelig, if she so desires - she has those powers. Diverse old-school talents, wit that is always newer than new-school. Her Fox show (a modern analog of The Carol Burnett Show; great theme by George Clinton; she helped begat The Simpsons, with one-minute animated vignette-filler sprinkled near commercial breaks) was their only good show at the time - it later morphed into an HBO program. She broke my heart in 17 places, including Yonkers, Bristol, and Trois-Rivières. Space does not permit...

"Now... go home!"

Before Tracey Ullman went to America and became famous she was reasonably well-known in her native Britain. As a presenter on the alternative/new-wave comedy programme "Three of a Kind" in the late 70s/early 80s she stood out as one of the few members of the new wave of alternative comics from that time who was neither male nor an ex-student.

Tracey then toyed with the idea of becoming a pop sensation, releasing "They Don't Know About Us" penned by Kirsty MacColl and culminating in her release of "My Guy", a cover of Madness' "My Girl". Notably chiefly for the fact that the video featured a cameo appearance by Neil Kinnock, who was at the time leader of the Labour Party, Tracey quickly realised that realism had to triumph over humiliation and promptly stopped subjecting the world to her vocal talents. Or so we thought.

As far as us Brits were concerned she disappeared completely without explanation. Abducted by aliens? Assassinated by music lovers? Joined the Labour Party? Nobody knew, she just suddenly ... wasn't there any more. And then about ten years later, as part of Channel 5s drive to produce TV at the lowest possible cost, a US import appeared called ... The Tracey Ullman Show. Was it ... could it be ... that our Tracey had not only crossed the pond but become a success? Apparently so, and the rest, as everybody knows, is history. Well perhaps not, but maybe I should leave it to someone who knows more than I about her life since 1985 to fill in the gaps.

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