RICHARD LEWIS IS MY THERAPIST
By Paul Freeman (June 2010) Who needs Paxil? if you’re feeling down, just expose yourself to Richard Lewis. No, no, keep your genitals in your pants. I mean, grab yourself one of Lewis’ stand-up DVDs or catch his appearances on “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” Paroxysms of laughter will quickly cure your blues. This comedy icon reflects the qualities of his own idols - Lenny Bruce’s daring and audacity, Woody Allen’s hilarious panorama of neuroses and Jimi Hendrix’s infinite inventiveness. The man who introduced the phrase “the ____ from hell” into the lexicon has turned many lives around with his funny and poignant autobiography, “The Other Great Depression.” It unsparingly, insightfully recounts his recovery from substance abuse. In his frenzied sets, Lewis spills his guts, vents his spleen and takes psyche-spelunkers on an expedition into the spider-covered caverns of his mind. Fears, frustrations, insecurities, compulsions... Who knew low self-esteem could be such fun? Comedy Central named him one of the 50 greatest stand-up comics of all time. We’d say top 5. As I picked up the phone for our early morning interview, I had a rasp in my voice. Lewis immediately declared me to be deeply depressed and embarked on a therapy session. As the conversation wended its way through a crazy collection of subjects, he had me in tears... from a gaggle of guffaws. If humor is the best medicine, Lewis is a doctor without peer. He slays not only on TV and on the stage, but on the phone, as well. Once he gets on a roll, the wit crackles in a hypnotic rhythm. His lightning-fast mind can send him careening onto a sharp tangent, mid-sentence, even mid-word. Lewis makes angst seem positively orgasmic. As we spoke, he had plenty of reasons to be cheery. He has been happily married to wife Joyce for five years. The return of “Curb” for an eighth season has just been announced. Reruns of the series have begun on the TV Guide Network. And he’s about to play a four-night engagement at Cobb’s Comedy Club in San Francisco. [July 15-18, 2010; 415-928-4320 or LiveNation.com for info] Throughout our conversation, Lewis revisited my mental health, determined to keep me from pulling my own plug (which, if it doesn’t kill you, can make you go blind). Next time we chat, I’ll be ready, reclining on a couch. At the end of the interview, keep reading... and laughing, as we’ve included a couple of our past encounters with the once and future Prince of Pain. POP CULTURE CLASSICS: RICHARD LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: All of this is about a little nightclub engagement in San Francisco. I have no children. I’ve devoted myself to the arts. Maybe, do you want to take a swim? Do you have pools up there? PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: I’m just in the middle of a road trip now. You want to start whining... I was just 90 miles outside of Seattle in a Native American casino... which is fine. I mean, they got so shafted. Look at what they gave away - Manhattan for... a harmonica and a pie. So I hope they have as many casinos as possible. But just getting to the casino... I was driving by, just passing silos and nuclear waste plants. I said to the driver, ‘Who comes to this place? Where are they?’ Apparently, they come up from underground... But not San Francisco. That’s very different. In the heart of the action... I’m always rambling and saying nothing, first of all, because I feel that you might take your life, honestly. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: That’s why, I swear to God, when I go on stage now, everyone is so full of fear - most people - that I just tell them, every problem, I say, ‘Look, just forget about it, man. Just forget about everything for an hour and vicariously lose yourself in my absolute whirling dervish of dysfunction, which I really do have. I mean, I’m a recovering drug addict and all that stuff for years now. But I still can’t shake about 99 percent of the things that got me into my addictions. So, fortunately, I have people... If it wasn’t for performing, I’d probably have no friends [Laughs], because they really can’t stand it. My wife has like a three or four-minute time limit with me. Like a beeper goes off - All right, I’ll see you in an hour.
PCC: LEWIS: I’m convinced under breath it was, ‘Uh, ah, um... Maybe.’ She murmured something else. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: But I will say this, though. I will say one positive thing about myself. But since you’ve been hogging this entire interview with your depression... PCC: LEWIS: The cool thing about this, honestly, is after 40 years... and even though Larry David, L.D., spread this out over a decade, and we’re just starting the eighth year... But I now walk down the streets and people.... 16-year-olds, people who were like four or five when ‘Curb’ started, are fans. And that doesn’t happen very often, particularly to someone like myself, who never gave up stand-up, but even went into it with more passion, more furiously than ever, which I have. I’ve never enjoyed the art form more than I have the last few years. And it’s clearly because there are that many more millions of people that know who I am... and there’s more pressure on me. And I love pressure. My parents... everyone in my family was so judgmental. It’s ironic that I chose a job where, every night, like ‘I’m a piece of crap. Judge me. Hi, how are you?’ And try to win their affection. I’m certain that’s one of the reasons I became a comedian. But now, I’ve had enough success to feel confident enough that I can wail about my dysfunction and that people will get something out of it. And hopefully they will in San Francisco... assuming I’m not at your funeral. This is the thing that’s bugging me more than anything. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: Now, as young comedians, that would never have been on our plate, that that would happen. So I was excited... Well, I don’t know how he is...I mean, I met him at his hotel and I said, ‘I’m not going to ask him one thing about Woody, see what happens.’ And he doesn’t mention the film, okay? And the brunch - a brunch, you know, with all the things you open up, ‘Oh, look, a half an elk! Want some deer with some potatoes, honey?’ Families. When a brunch like that lasts five minutes, you know he’s not comfortable in those settings, okay? And a few months ago, he said, ‘Gee, I haven’t see you in a while.’ This is after I guess he made... I never asked him whether the show’s coming back. I find out. So I e-mail him and I said, ‘Hey, I went online... and I saw some site out of Algeria... that you might be thinking...’ I wasn’t lying. There was some kind of weird European news service that said, ‘Larry David’s thinking of coming back.’ And he would have known it. He just doesn’t tell me. And I don’t ask him... which is cool. He likes it that way. I find out eventually how many shows I’m in. I have no clue what the arc is. And I won’t know what I’m doing until, if I’m lucky, the day of or the day before. Well, the day of, I have to, at least before they say, ‘Action.’ But like a few months ago, he said he wanted to go to dinner. He hadn’t seen me in about a year, I think. I mean, we were best of friends. But, you know, L.A. is also a crummy place for friendships, because everything is so far away. You get invitations for parties - R.S.V.P. - it’s like a year from Tuesday. And then they give you maps and Google Search. If it’s some of these show biz parties, people say, ‘If you have a helicopter... ‘ Helicopter?!... I know I’m rambling now... just to save you from taking your life. PCC: LEWIS: So anyways, Larry, I met him at this posh restaurant, which he wanted to go to. I’d been to this place. And it was Chinese. I said, ‘What time do you want to meet?’ Literally... none of this is made up, because he’s pretty eccentric. He said, ‘4:30.’ I said, ‘I just had lunch. I’m not meeting you in an hour-and-a-half for dinner.’ And then I had to negotiate a time... for an hour. And I got it up to 5:45. I went, ‘They’re not even ready to... ‘ ‘Yeah, yeah, they’ll be ready.’ So I get there at 5:30, purposely, to give the maitre d’ my credit card, because, look, I can afford to treat him... Just because he has funny money doesn’t mean he has to always treat. And he does a lot. So maybe it was an ego thing. I got there and I said, ‘Hey, listen, just give me the check, please.’ It’s not a big deal. It’s not like I’m paying for a wedding. I never will. I just have little cloth puppets. One’s in rehab. And one’s in jail. It doesn’t matter. So I get to the restaurant... by the way, I’m just doing this rant to get you to rethink your suicide attempt. But I get there, honestly, he’s late. I give the maitre d’ my credit card. He comes a half-hour late. Doesn’t apologize. I’m already in a bad mood. And I go, ‘Let’s get a menu.’ He goes, ‘Don’t embarrass me.’ I go, ‘I what do mean, embarrass you?’ He said, ‘No, the chef likes to bring out what he likes.’ I went, ‘I don’t care what the chef likes!’ I said, ‘Remember we used to go the Chinese restaurant, we’d all buy one or two things and then share?’ ‘No, no, let the chef bring out... I know the guy...’ I go ‘Fine.’ They bring out like 18 entrees on a Lazy... one of these turntable things, Lazy Susan, whatever they’re called... and I said, ‘Who’s going to eat all this stuff?’ And we don’t even start eating it. And we’re only there about three minutes. And his cell rings. And it’s Steve Martin, the comedian. And he says, ‘Oh, my God, sorry!’ Closes the cell. Gets up, without an apology, goes, ‘Poker night. I forgot.’ And leaves. Leaves me with 20 entrees, about a $720 bill. I leave pretty fast. And then he calls me. Him and Martin, Steve, call me. I have my speaker on. Begging me to come and play poker. Now, first of all, I really missed Larry and not having a chance to have an hour dinner with him, that’s really... I didn’t feel like playing poker. Two, I don’t play poker that often. I don’t even know how to play that well. Can you imagine? I had like $70 in my wallet. Going to play with Larry David and Steve Martin? It’d be like ‘The Cincinnati Kid.’ ‘That’s 10 grand.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘You little baby.’ And ‘A hundred grand.’ I would have needed Monopoly money. The whole thing was a nightmare. So, to answer your question, no. I don’t ask him anything. I show up on set and the only get-even I have... and I love the guy, I have his back. He knows it. He’s got mine. But the only get-even I have is when there’s actors on the set who have never done the show, like guest stars or something, I walk over purposely, so the new person who’s there just for one day will hear me say the worst, the most horrific rumors that I make up about him and what he did, I can’t believe he did this... a gun? Who knew you had a gun? But I really act. I should get Emmys for this. I act. And he starts laughing. And just to see the faces of these actors... I mean, I’m exploiting these actors, unfortunately. But there’s nothing I can do to get even with this guy. And there’s nothing to get even with. He really gave me a second breath, like 12 years ago. I love the guy. The guy’s a genius. And it couldn’t have happened to a more worthy guy, because he’s a true artist. I mean, here’s a guy who was a brilliant stand-up, who never did the traditional route, like all of us wanted, most of us, anyway. I wanted to go on the road. I wanted to open up for superstars. Then I wanted to headline. Then I wanted to do Carnegie Hall. And I wanted to do specials. And all the rest. I’ve done all of that. And he never got out of the gate, because an audience member would talk or whisper, he’d walk off. He was so much about the craft, he didn’t think audiences were part of the mix. It was insane. It’s pretty insane. But that’s what happened with him. Fortunately, Seinfeld knew that he had gold. And they were a great team. But, interestingly enough, this show is like, to me, Seinfeld Unplugged and has been for a long time. It’s the rawest sitcom I’ve ever seen. Not to mention, there’s no script, which is a dream come true for a comedian, for sure. It’s funny to see some of the actors come on, the first day. Ted Danson said something really interesting to me once - he’s a really nice guy -He said, ‘You watch a really strong episode of ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm,’ really strong episode and then you watch like the most well written sitcom right after it, that other show will seem so unnatural and almost phony.’ I know what he meant. And in a lot of ways, it’s true, because that art form the way he’s done the show, I think it really worked out. A few people probably know this. It’s sort of ‘Inside Baseball,’ but a couple years ago, I mean he’s won a Lifetime Achievement Award from The Writers Guild and everything, but one year, he won Best Writer for a situation comedy and there are no scripts. So that shows how important every frame is, from the first frame to the last frame, in 10 episodes. Because if they don’t match up, from the right exposition standpoint, the show would just crumble. It wouldn’t have lasted more than a month. That’s why writing these outlines takes him so long. They’re only about seven or eight pages, but writing the stories are so intense and so difficult. That’s why he takes so long, coming up with an idea of whether he wants to do it again. Plus he doesn’t need the bread. But I think he likes to see himself on billboards. And I don’t blame him. Because here’s a guy who never followed through on stand-up, because of his allergy to audiences. And now he’s really able to show the people who he was as a comedian. And he really was incredible. My goal really is just to show up. In fact, I’ve had many fights with my wife... and we have a pretty good marriage... but when I come back - and she adores Larry - but she says, ‘How did it go?’ I go, ‘What do you mean, how did it go? I went there. I was me. He was him. We had a fight. I’m home. I have makeup on. I have to take a shower. And he’s going to edit it. I don’t know what’s going to happen.’ And I don’t. And it’s the most surreal gig I’ve ever had. I literally show up as me. He’s him. He tells me what the exposition is - ‘Action!’ And we start screaming and yelling. And we would have done the same screaming and yelling in real life. Do I deserve an Emmy nomination for this? PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: But we had... we did have... we’re trying to unload it... We have this cabin, 90 miles outside of Hollywood where we live. And I went there once. And I took a... I walked with her once... and I saw a small, but yet, a snake... Okay? And it was... I said, ‘Look, it wasn’t my idea to have a cabin... ‘ And then I kicked a rock and an insect I couldn’t recognize... It’s in the mountains... ‘I’m never leaving the cabin. Are you happy about this investment.’ So she’d go hiking. We had no friends up there. I go, ‘We’re to be like the Donner party. This is frightening!’ I said I’ll only go with you down to the... they had like one little store to buy like nuts and raisins. This is a joke! I cannot wait to sell this thing. I’m haunted by it, even, I live in Hollywood. And I dream of the cabin. You know what it reminds me of? That view, that poster of ‘Psycho.’ PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: So, you know, you can imagine... He had a breast... now it’s a testicle... but it might be a vagina... It’s just too much. It’s too much for me. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: I love Cassavetes and Bergman. My film library is extraordinarily dark. And I really need to watch really dark movies to get myself into a good mood. PCC: LEWIS: I mean, when they start comparing his filmmaking to like more serious type comedies, it’s apples and oranges. I mean, to make a four or five-year-old scream and laugh, and then parents, as well, I mean, not too many people have been able to... like Chaplin. I mean, I know he’s been reamed in America. But... it was really fun. I rarely have children over at my house. My house, which I’ve had for about 22 years, it’s called The Museum, because it has collections everywhere. Everything in the arts. And there’s a lot of sharp-edged antiques and furniture and stuff, so children are not allowed... [Laughs] Once a former manager brought his baby over here. It’s three stories and it’s narrow. A dangerous house, if you don’t know every nook and cranny. And the kid was crying when he saw all the stimuli all over the place. It scared him. And my former manager said, ‘I gotta get outta here, The kid’s going crazy.’ He said, ‘Do you have anything to play... ‘ He didn’t bring any toys. And I had no toys, so I gave him one of my blood pressure pumps. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: At the time, I had a leak in my house... and I had these guys who were pretty strong... I couldn’t lift these things... my back... everything’s all gone now. So I threw everything away, in the dump, and I don’t even know what it is. Because, I said, ‘If I don’t miss it now, if I don’t even know it’s here... who cares?’ And I’ll tell you, man. It was one of the most cathartic things I’ve ever done in my life. It was unbelievable to get rid of this crap. It’s cliché, but, man, I’m 62, man, and I had a lot of things and a lot of stuff, as Carlin used to say - and will always say on tape and DVD - and it really is just stuff. And it was really great to get rid of it. PCC: LEWIS: You know what really bummed me out? There was so much stuff... I collect stuff... really interesting stuff, too. I’m a serious collector. But I would cover a lot of really cool pieces of furniture. Like, you know, Rolling Stone magazines with Jimi on it and Joplin. Really cool stuff. But you couldn’t even recognize the table it was on. I covered great furniture with really cool other stuff. And I would cover that cool stuff with other stuff. It was a joke. Obviously, I had a lot of psychological problems, doing this. So when my wife came back, I went just the other way. I took everything away. I hid everything that was out. It was like naked. Like a baby. Like a little baby house. My wife said, ‘Where is everything?’ It was funny. She said, ‘You’ve got to put something out!’ I said, ‘No, because I went the other way, because, obviously, emotionally I have a lot of problems.’ So I went from everything to be seen to ‘I want to see nothing.’ Like that vision of John and Yoko playing a white piano in a white living room with nothing on the walls. That’s what my goal was. So when my wife came home, she freaked. She started putting things out. I said, ‘Don’t put a fork on the table. We don’t need a fork.’ I almost had a breakdown. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: So, luckily, Yale... They didn’t really write it perfectly, though, unfortunately, as grateful as I am... because it really bugged me. comics stealing everything. People are just so unethical in this field. It’s just despicable. That’s the biggest heartbreak about this world I’m in, the stand-up, is that people are just ruthless. In fact, there’s a really cool book out now, called ‘I’m Dying Up Here.’ They might even make a movie out of it. It’s about the comedy scene in the ‘70s. It’s a really good read. And it addresses how hard it was to make it and then to stick to it, with all the drugs and all that sex. It was like, basically, rock ‘n’ roll time in the ‘70s. But this stealing, it just sucks. And it really sucks more for the younger comic who really came up with... Look, it’s very easy to come up with similar premises, obviously, and even, sometimes, punch lines, right on the money. But when you overtly take something and then some young kid who can’t do it anymore, a young comedian, that really sucks. And that happens all the time. But the whole talk show landscape has changed so much now. I’m glad I came along when I did. I mean, I did 60 or 70 Lettermans in the ‘80s, early ‘90s. That’s unheard of now, to do that kind of thing. I mean, Dave actually said, ‘Come on as often as you want.’ And I did. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: Can you imagine, first of all, hating yourself, being an alcoholic, albeit in recovery today, and then talking about yourself non-stop since 1970? It’s a joke! No wonder my wife has a four-minute limit! PCC: LEWIS: But helping other people who are absolutely going down and seeing them actually turn their lives around, those two things are astonishing gifts. And actually, that’s the greatest gift right now. I don’t preach about it. But people helped me want to get back on track. And when you see it with friends, when you really, really try to help and they actually get it and they realize, ‘All right, I’ve been there, done it. But I’m dead, if I don’t change,’ and they change, it’s really great. God, I’m just looking at Cameron Diaz on the commercial. I saw her a couple weeks ago in Chateau Marmont. I did her first ‘Tonight Show,’ when she did ‘The Mask.’ And I was such a sex addict... not a sex addict, but an affection... Oh, she’s plugging a movie with Tom Cruise. Ah, but, she’s so tall... in heels... she was so intimidating... I don’t know if I would have left my usual note with someone like her... which was, ‘I hope you’re married and happy, but if you’re not... And I’d have my number on it. And it would be so sleazy. That’s how I picked up my wife. That same note. At a Ringo Starr party, if I can name-drop. And she saved the note. And she gave it to me for our first anniversary, this sleazy note. But when I saw Cameron Diaz, I went over to her. It’s just, I knew I would get praise. I needed praise, because I... I said, ‘Hey, you made me really funny on that ‘Tonight Show.’ She’s like, ‘Oh, you don’t need anybody’s help.’ I knew she’d say that. I felt so guilty afterwards. That’s how needy I am. And now, I think we’re done. This is how it started. This is like ‘Siddhartha.’ We’ve run around the lake already. We bumped into each other here. Now I’m f--cked up! And you’re going to have a good day. You’re the most selfish journalist I’ve ever met! PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: Well listen, if you don’t make it, thank your for the time, as usual. You’re a very bright, funny guy and good writer and all the rest. But you’ve used and abused me today, in a way... I’ve never seen anything like it. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS:
BONUS
Misery loves company. Company loves to laugh. So it makes sense that Richard Lewis is among the most beloved comedians of his time. You don’t have to be the Marquis de Sade to enjoy another’s suffering. When Lewis talks about his pain, it’s universally appealing. Like a rock guitar god’s inspired riffs, his spontaneous bursts of humor dazzle. He doesn’t hesitate to strip himself emotionally bare - on stage and in his wonderfully moving, amusing memoir, “The Other Great Depression.” Just as revealing is the new documentary DVD, “Richard Lewis Naked.” Created by his longtime publicist/confidante Michelle Mourges Marx, the entertaining and involving film allows viewers to sneak along on the comedian’s stress-packed book tour. Lewis is unwaveringly candid. “If you have a dark past and were abused emotionally, you’ve got to deal with it,” Lewis told us “You can’t be in denial. “At 23, I went on stage, because I felt misunderstood and wanted people to laugh at all the crap I thought I was victimized by, to validate me. Known as the Prince of Pain, Lewis is now 60. He says sobriety has benefited his art. “I was able to turn the light on me. Once I realized I was a screwball, it opened up a Pandora’s box of material. I can go on stage and have the time of my life putting myself down. It’s more fun shredding myself than blaming other people.” He encouraged the publication of a new edition of “The Great Depression.” Lewis hears from readers who confronted their own addictions after reading the book. He’d like to reach the new generation of fans who discovered him on “Curb Your Enthusiasm.” “Maybe I could help some of the addicts among them. To help someone else help themselves is the greatest gift for me.” The new edition’s afterword relates Lewis’ quest for illumination and self-improvement. “It dawned on me that there are a lot of reasons why I drank. Those were defects in character. I concluded that, for me, it would be an empty sobriety, unless I worked on those defects. I wanted to write that down.” Lewis and his wife are on the board of urbanfarming.org, whose mission is to eradicate hunger. It’s one of many ways in which he nurtures his spiritual quest. He also wanted to reprint the book to remind the public that, though young stars have bounced in and out of rehab recently, the process can work. “You don’t have to be sober for a day and then wind up naked on ‘TMZ’ in the back of a limo, drinking. There are other ways to go. Not that I would ever be naked in the back of a limo, not with my body at this point. It would be on some Yiddish porn cable.” The one-time Lothario married for the first time three years ago. He met former music publisher Joyce Lapinsky at a Ringo Starr party. “I guessed she was Italian and 33. She said, ‘Let’s nip this in the bud. I’m 42. I’m a Jew from Minnesota. So if that bugs you... And if children are a major thing...’ She was like reading my mind.” Turns out, years before, a friend had tried to fix up Lapinsky with Lewis on the set of his hit sitcom “Anything But Love.” “She said, ‘No, he’s crazy. I’m not going out with him.’ I was an active drunk and drug addict then, so it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.” The timing was right when they did meet. To buddy Bob Costas, Lewis declared, “I met the woman I’m going to marry.” “I was able to commit to somebody finally. I met the right woman at the right time. There’s a lot of compromise in any relationship. But it’s easier to compromise at 60 than it is at 25. “I’ve found peace and serenity. On stage, I still mine my bottomless pit of bad memories. In real life, I’m still crazy, but I’m far happier and more grateful than I’ve ever been. Marriage has a lot to do with that. We have a neurotic relationship that’s, 99 percent of the time, filled with laughter and love.” Lewis has also found surrogate mother and father relationships - with Phyllis Diller and Jonathan Winters. “My father died before I ever went on stage. My mother and I didn’t have a great relationship, to put it mildly. When I got ‘The Tonight Show’ for the first time, in the early ‘70s, I called her and said, ‘Mom, I’m on with Johnny!’ She said, ‘Who else is on?’ “Phyllis Diller and Jonathan Winters love me and I love them. They’ve taken me under their wing. It’s like a dream. They’re iconic figures in comedy, people I grew up watching. And I speak to them as parents, literally.” Lewis, who has two TV projects in the works, speaks of his flaws, but works on them diligently. “As I de-fogged, year after year, I realized how obsessive-compulsive and anal-retentive I was. “I went to therapy for 30-plus years. I hardly go now. I make little NASCAR pit stops on occasion. But I pretty much know the deal at this point. I’m still pretty loony. I just don’t medicate the problems anymore.”
BONUS #2
Our 2005 Interview With Richard Lewis
LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: We actually met, Larry and I, when we were kids, at camp. And we were arch-rivals. I mean, I hated his guts. And he hated my guts. We fought. I mean I really hated the guy. He was a real jerk. He thought I was a jerk. And about 12 or 13 years later, when we were in our early twenties, starting, and I started about a year before him, as a comedian, we became great friends. We dug each other’s stuff. One night, I looked at him, almost in like a surreal, Roman Polanski kind of mode and went, ‘I hate you I don’t connect to your soul, man.’ And he was laughing, but I really meant it. I looked in his eyes and I recognized something that scared the crap out of me. We sat down and just started goofing and retracing our childhood and we realized that we were the same kids who hated one another 13 years ago. We just went berserk. We almost went at each other’s throats. And on the show, we fight a lot. And that’s the kind of relationship we have anyway. We really love each other, but we’re able to scream and yell and mock each other and then, a second later, forget it. That’s a good relationship. I just read something in the paper a while ago. It’s ironic that people who write spec scripts, and God knows, I did it, too, to get into sitcoms, ‘Curb Your Enthusiasm’ is like the number one script write to try and get on shows. The bizarre irony is that, there is no script for ‘Curb.’ It’s totally ad-libbed, although the stories are very tight. I guess it’s popular with the writers. And well it should be. It’s pretty hip, man. PCC: LEWIS: The downside, as an actor, is that, when you play yourself, you can’t like, send a reel to Scorcese that readily and say, ‘Can I get the role as the serial killer?’ The upside is that it’s one of the most unique comedies around and, as an actor, if you do your homework as an actor, you’re supposed to know who you are, your history, where you come from, where you’re going and all that stuff. And I don’t have to do a bit of that, because we already we already have our history built in. In fact, there are many scenes that, literally, the day of, or even during, we’re having an argument about something that has nothing to do with the show. And it’ll wind up in the show. And it’s really surreal. The cameras are rolling, we’re fighting, we’re bringing up something from like 10 years ago that pissed us off. And we’ll keep it. I call him ‘Citizen David.’ He’s allowed to edit anything he wants. I just have to keep my fingers crossed, praying. Before the show airs, I put on every religious artifact known to man. But he looks after me. I have no problems with him. So I’m really in a good mood about that. It was fun for me, last year, to play, a show that I didn’t really know much about, on the WB, ‘7th Heaven,’ which has been on for like seven years. And it’s like their number one show. It’s a family show, but it’s unbelievably successful, all over the world. So the woman was a fan of mine. She wanted me to play a rabbi with a daughter who marries the star’s daughter, And the star is a reverend. So she called me to reprise the role. So I went from playing a rabbi to playing a psychotic... no I’m not psychotic. I’ve been going up for some dramatic series. That’s the fun thing about the acting stuff. You can literally get a phone call. It’s funny, I went up for this one role, I won’t mention it, because, if I don’t get it, it’ll look stupid. And I don’t want to hex it. It was so depressed, this character. He was absolutely at the bottom. And when I got to the lot, my car exploded, literally, and it broke. And I had just gotten it fixed. I had to get it towed and get a rental. So by the time I got to the room to read, I was in such a state. I don’t know if I got the role, but I sort of became this guy. I think I kind of scared everybody. I was in such a bad mood. PCC: LEWIS: PCC: LEWIS: I was telling Lou Reed this a couple years ago at dinner. I was whining about not getting enough dramatic opportunities. And he was laughing. To make Lou laugh is like making Edgar Allen Poe laugh. He’s become really a good friend. He’s a really cool guy. A brilliant guy. He’s a Hall of Fame poet-rocker. And he’s telling me, ‘Get over it, man. You’ve been a comic your whole life. Everything else is gravy.’ And he says, ‘I’m going to be remembered for one thing, the chorus of a song, ‘And the colored girls go, ‘doo-doo-doo.’ Suddenly he’s mocking me. It was great. It was in this restaurant in Tribeca. He’s such a cool guy, but I looked around and it was like the really hot restaurant and nobody was in the restaurant, but Lou and me. I thought it was like a scene from ‘The Godfather.’ That was the first time we had met, a few years ago. I had some creative ideas about collaborating, some of my essays with some of his music. Anyway, the stand-up, I write every day. Not always a million things. But I always have a pad with me. So, every two or three months, I would basically have a new hour that I liked. I’m not boasting. But it’s pretty unheard of. And the only reason I could do it, was because I brought a piece of paper, which was about three-feet long, on stage, and I’d put it on a table. Carnegie Hall, when I did it, I had six of them, on a grand piano. I did almost three hours. But what happened, the last couple of years, I decided I’d be much freer, as a performer, if I just walked on stage, plus it wouldn’t be a pain in the ass, every venue that I would go to, I would have to make sure there was a table. I remember once, some teamsters lifting up this huge piano in Vegas. They said, ‘Rich, we never knew you played.’ I said, ‘No, no, it’s for this paper.’ They almost killed me. So I don’t think I’ve ever performed better. But I have to spend really hundreds of years, scrawling on my laptop, everywhere I go, and just hope I remember 15 or 20 minutes of the stuff, because I just don’t bring the sheet up anymore. And quite frankly, even though I ad-lib about a third of every show I do, even if I’m doing a riff that I’ve been doing for a couple of weeks or months, I never do it the same way. And if the audience is going with it, then I just start adding and ad-libbing. I still was so used to having two hours of new material and literally doing it, wherever I was, it could have been a concert hall or a nightclub, it’s a little frustrating. And every shrink, every person who ever meant anything to me, always said, ‘Rich, don’t you understand? People don’t know. This is like new material to everybody, even if they’ve seen you before.’ But it was just about my not wanting to be bored. So there’s pressure now when I go on stage. Now I’m more on edge than ever. I’m like on fire, on stage, for better or worse, because my brain is overloaded with about 40 minutes of stuff that now I can’t just peek down and look at. I have to try to recall it. So really, I’m a basket case on stage now. Even though I’m eight years sober, I’ve never been more dysfunctional, as a comedian, which I think serves me well on stage. Seemingly, it has. PCC: LEWIS: I jested that I’m so clear-headed now that I despise myself even more. I am much more clear-headed now. There’s two things that make me a better performer as a sober person - one is that I have much more clarity on how screwed up I was and why I was screwed. And I also take responsibility. I used to use this metaphor in the ‘70s and ‘80s - things from hell. It was either a date from hell... whatever would torment me. It became part of the vernacular. And I actually tried to get it in Bartlett’s. I don’t know how much I paid my lawyer to do this. I must have been pretty high, asking him to do this. But I was pissed off. People were ripping me off. It was in advertising. This from hell. That from hell. I was on Letterman about 60 or 70 times over the course of about eight years. And even Dave used to say, ‘Oh, you went to a bar mitzvah from hell, huh?’ He would like finish the thought. So Bartlett’s wrote back to my attorney. I’m paraphrasing, but it was hilarious. They said, ‘We realize that Mr. Lewis popularized this phrase, but we have on record, two co-eds in 1890, in Buffalo, walking around a pond, saying, ‘This is a semester from hell.’ These two young women. I got jacked out of it. But you know what? Life is precious and I could care less at this point. But when I was drunk, I cared. So anyways, part of getting sober, you do sort of take responsibility for things that you might have done that were pretty embarrassing. And I did plenty. It opened up a whole other side. Like I was the date from hell. I was the son from hell. It wasn’t just my parents. It wasn’t just the women I had gone out with. And on and on. So it opened up like a Pandora’s box for me of being able to flog myself even more. I mean, the self-loathing is still there. I mean, I’m proud of overcoming this disease, on a daily basis, but it’s also a hell of a lot of fun to humiliate myself publicly. It still is. And now I totally understand why. PCC: LEWIS: As I told my shrink today, it makes sense that I’m a little crazy. I don’t have any children. So I never had to say, ‘Oh, my God, my kid has the flu.’ I just basically had to say, for 30 years, ‘Well, I’ve got Letterman in a week’ or Carson. Or ‘Gee, I’ve got to work on that Conan shot.’ ‘I’ve got to memorize these lines.’ I was in psychotherapy. Still am in a sense, although I don’t go in person much anymore. But for most of my adult life. And I made a career of examining myself on stage. I don’t mind observational humorists. There’s plenty of them and some of them are great. But why I went on stage is that I needed to get validated for who I was, because I wasn’t getting it from important people in my life. So I needed strangers to validate me, basically. So I didn’t want to talk about, ‘Did you ever notice...?’ I wanted to say, ‘Here’s how I feel...’ and I just prayed that the audience had the same feelings. And obviously they have, otherwise I’d be... I don’t know what I’d be doing now. I wouldn’t be talking to you. PCC: LEWIS: Interestingly enough, I’m in my fifties now. It’s great that I’m alive. But it’s insane that I’ve reached this age. I just can’t even believe it. But, on the other hand, my fan base, I have middle-aged people who have watched me for 25 years, but I do all the shows and I consider myself relatively hip. Audiences are pretty diverse. I have teenagers to people in their sixties and seventies coming. If they’re older, they come on a gurney, I don’t care. So I’m proud of the fact that I’ve kept my fans, but like I’m doing a concert next month with Jon Stewart, who was on the young comics special that I hosted years ago. I did a lot of specials for HBO and that was one of them. And he was one of young comics. I’m a great fan of his. We’re doing a concert together in New York. I’ve done ‘The Daily Show’ a billion times. He must have been 10 or 15 years younger than me, but we both can relate to the same fan base. And that’s cool. I sort of feel good about that. PCC: LEWIS: Bob Dylan once said - I read this in a quote, it was really interesting to me - said, ‘Look, man, I wake up, I’m happy for a little bit, then I get into a funk’ - I’m paraphrasing maybe the greatest poet of our generation - then he said, ‘Then I feel great, then I’m depressed.’ That’s what it is. That’s what it is for most people. And certainly, that’s what it is for me. The key is not to have long periods of depression. That blows. I’ve avoided that, thank God. PCC: LEWIS: But the thing that’s been cool for me, after so many years, meeting so many people, and this is not boasting by any stretch of the imagination, in fact, one of my shrinks - and I’ve outlived many - called it an endearment, for some odd reason. But it’s shocking to me that i’m friends with and know so many rock guys. I once had like Frampton or Bonnie Raitt come up to my house to listen to some music of friends of mine I wanted them to hear. Or Ringo’s a great guy, who’s been very helpful to me, in my life. Oh, and Ronnie Wood, who I have some of his paintings. He came over to my house one night to watch the Oscars. And I was like frantic. I put all his paintings in one room, like it was the Ronnie Wood gallery. We’re not like great friends. But he loves the fact that I love his artwork, too. Of course, I love The Stones. A couple of years ago, Ronnie asked me to come down to the studio, just to hang out. And I had never met Keith before. And after they put down a lick. I was just on fire, man. It was so cool. In fact, maybe the coolest thing, my favorite group was Procol Harum. I just loved their stuff. Keith Reid is maybe one of the greatest lyricists. They had only a couple of huge hits, but I know his body of work. I mean ‘Whiter Shade of Pale,’ obviously, is so famous. It turned out I wound up meeting them and became really good friends with Procol Harum and with Keith. And these are the kinds of things that are perks for me. I remember even going to the White House. That kind of stuff is sort of wild, when you get a phone call from, it was the Clinton-Gore years. And they said, ‘Oh, the President has to have you come do this.’ Or ‘The First Lady needs you,’ which is sort of trippy. That’s cool. That’s stuff I’ll never forget. We’re just humans in a crazy world. But there’s something really bizarre about being asked by a President or a Rolling Stone to do something. It’s like an out-of-body experience. It’s great. PCC: LEWIS: Hendrix was unique. He just so moved me, Hendrix. And Lennon for his honesty and his lyrics, particularly his first album, solo album. These are the kinds of things, for an artist, that stick in your brain. I always want to aspire to be as honest and courageous as some of the lyrics that Lennon wrote and try to use my comic instrument as freely as I possibly can. And clearly, Hendrix was like a human guitar. And if I could just hit that moment, even few moments on stage... I mean this guy was doing it most of the time. That’s why they’re icons. PCC: LEWIS: One of the reasons I like therapy, my therapist helped me get sober, because she knew I was an alcoholic and she wanted me to realize it. I was a cannibal to this woman, because she was so smart and I respected her so much, I just could not lie to her. So when she asked me to keep a diary of when I drank and what time and how much and why, I just quit. I couldn’t lie. That’s when I knew for sure I was an alcoholic. I’d been in denial. It took me about a year-and-a-half of misery to finally get sober. I don’t preach about it. I joke about it a lot, too. But I’m dead serious about how important it is, for me. But I never preach to other people, only other addicts, if they ask me. In truth, though, I had to be a cannibal to myself, when I wrote this book, because one of the things about being on stage, I always prided myself on being honest. But when I realized that I was an alcoholic person for so much of my time on stage, not performing it, but as a man, I felt that I had to come clean, for myself. Not that I owed it to the world or to fans. Just to myself. And I felt good about doing it. I watched this documentary on Cassavetes. And he made a comment, he said if something was too entertaining, when he would be at a screening, he would go back and edit it out. He said he didn’t want to entertain people. He wanted to shake people up. And when I wrote the book, I felt that way. |