
Richard Lewis just turned 60 years old, but because of his appearances on Curb Your Enthusiasm, he’s attracting a whole new generation of fans. 20-year-olds who are too young to remember his sitcom with Jamie Lee Curtis, Anything But Love, or his constant appearances on Letterman that started in the ’80s are suddenly fans because of Larry David’s show.
But not me.
True, I’m 24 and I watch Curb like the rest of them. But no, I can’t be considered a new fan. I’ve had Lewis on my radar since the 1993 film Robin Hood: Men in Tights, in which he played Price John. I’m an old fan.
“I’m 24,” I begin to tell Lewis, on the line from his home in Beverly Hills.
He interrupts me in a panic.
“You could be my son. In my drinking days, I could have been with a zebra and I didn’t know.”
The phone interview – from start-to-finish – becomes an improvised standup act, much like the method he takes when he does a real standup act, like he’ll do on Friday, July 27, at Toronto’s Massey Hall as part of the Just for Laughs Festival. He’s billed as a “special guest” and will share the stage with Lewis Black at one of the festival’s galas.
“I hate the name gala,” Lewis says. “I feel like I’ll have to go out and buy a tuxedo and some prom dress for some chick.” (”Or a woman,” he continues. “If you write chick, let the women know I hate men; I love women. It’s time we got this dick out of the White House anyway.”)
Every question I ask has Lewis trailing off on some rant, which he apologizes for every time. And every time, I tell him he has no need to apologize. I’m somehow getting a free standup act from a comedy legend – shhh, don’t tell anyone.
The paying audience next week can expect a very candid Lewis. He has never been shy about his personal woes – he’s battled alcohol and drug addictions and is proudly almost 13 years sober – and is convinced that if he didn’t get so personal on stage, his career would have ended long before it started.
“That’s why I got on stage to begin with,” Lewis says. “I felt like I was being raised like a lamb chop. I said you know what, I can’t be as crazy as [my parents] are making me feel. What got me on stage was to be validated as Richard Lewis and find out who the hell I was and the only way I could was to talk about the deepest feelings I had. When they laughed at my pain, I felt like I’m not alone, my family isn’t right, and I had another option; that I could be Richard Lewis and feel good about myself.
“Granted,” he continues, “I’m riddled with low self-esteem and I have a bottomless pit of obsession, but I have a lid on it. And drinking and sex and rock and roll, that lifestyle lasted for two decades.”
Lewis says he’s never been happier in his life than he is now, and a large part of that is because of his wife of two years, Joyce, a former music executive who is now involved with Urban Farming (urbanfarming.org).
Lewis begins to tell me the story of how he met his wife at a party, as he is walking up the stairs in his house to find a note he wrote her.
“I was a consensual womanizer. They wanted to be with me for some reason … I feel like I’ve had every manager in L.A., from the biggest to the littlest, and if I leave my manager now who is one of the biggest in the world, then I’m down to like a dairy father in Iowa, I’m done. I had this one manager who was huge and very famous and I would give him so much money in commission and they had this tradition to give gifts for their clients at the end of the year. This one guy gave boxes of stationary, couldn’t have cost more than 100 bucks, with the client’s name on it. I had different pads, different sizes. I had 100s of these things, and I wrote on one to my wife.
“I wrote, and I’m reading right now, ‘J, I swear I’m very decent’ with my phone number with a heart and an ‘RL’ and the heart looks like a kidney bean, but nevertheless. It was so Freudian because I wasn’t very decent. I was compelled to make love with her as soon as possible. Even though I was sober I still had that sexual addition thing going crazily and she came over. We didn’t sleep together the first night although she’ll be the first to admit the second night we did.”
Anyway, I’ve somehow got sidetracked, much like Lewis every few seconds (his physiatrist sometimes walks up and leaves when he goes on rants, he says). But back to the gala.
Lewis says he never knows what he’s going to say once he gets onstage, but spends hours upon hours preparing.
“I go to hotels during the day and write and look over thousands of new lines that I hope come out when I’m on stage. Every show will be slightly different. Some shows are entirely different. I prepare my ass off. I’m already scrawling over 20 hours of new material. And then I’ll ad-lib half the show anyway. I’m looking forward to it. That’s how I live on the edge. It used to be with drugs and sex additions and alcohol and now it’s standup. I’ve never enjoyed standup more in my life than now.”
His method wasn’t always like that.
“Starting out, my dream was to get on the Tonight Show and to do that, you have to get three or four tight to the bone monologues, and the only way to do that is to do the same set every night until you’re ready to get the producers to come down and you hope that you score. And I got on the Tonight Show in a little over two years, which is fairly fast and I never looked back.”
He’s appeared on Letterman over 20 times since the early ’80s, but always conversed with Letterman, never performing as a standup performer.
“The truth is, he said just sit down in the chair and don’t do standup because you’re just too physical. Jay Leno once quipped that I had left the camera and walked out of the screen for a few minutes and they couldn’t even find me. After Letterman set that precedent for me way back in 1982, I have never done standup ever again on a television talk show.”
Lewis can be seen on the next season of Curb You Enthusiasm in September, and he has also been pitching a new show to networks.
He’s also hoping for a change in Washington.
“I will never nor do I want to go into the oval office during this administration. He would never invite me anyway.”