Bobcat: Old dog, new tricks
No longer a manic comic, Goldthwait offers achange of pace in his film 'Sleeping Dogs Lie'
NEW YORK -- Watching stand-up comic turned film and TV director Bobcat Goldthwait politely and thoughtfully discuss his new film "Sleeping Dogs Lie," which opens Friday , while ensconced in a swank Manhattan hotel suite, one can't help but think: Wow, has this guy mellowed out.
Once known for his manic volatility, the 44-year-old Goldthwait, who got his start in stand-up while living in Boston in the early 1980s, exhibits few signs of his former comedic self. Gone are his gonzo, nervous-wreck persona and his trademark convulsive caterwaul of a voice -- an unsteady mix of Grover from "Sesame Street" and a coyote in the throes of death. He has slimmed down, and his wild hair has been tamed to peach fuzz.
Despite the changes, you keep waiting for Goldthwait to leap onto the couch in a crouching position and launch into a funny, incisive diatribe about the upcoming mid term elections or Mel Gibson's recent fall from grace, while hollering, waving his arms, and pulling at his hair.
This is, after all, the same unpredictable guy who once torched a couch during an appearance on "The Tonight Show With Jay Leno" (for which he was charged with two misdemeanors), who racked up more than $10,000 in damages on "The Arsenio Hall Show," and who spawned a legion of adoring fans, from Kurt Cobain to Martin Scorsese, for his twisted, 1992 cult film favorite "Shakes the Clown," in which he starred as a beer-guzzling, drug-snorting, walking disaster of a children's party prankster.
Instead, Goldthwait is gracious and self-effacing while talking about "Sleeping Dogs Lie," a dark comedy with an off-the-wall premise that he wrote and directed (but does not star in). Dressed in black jeans, a long-sleeve shirt and a newsboy cap, he admits that he has, in fact, mellowed considerably in the ensuing years, although there are still traces of that old neurotic energy.
"I'm not as angry as I used to be," confesses Goldthwait, who now toils as a TV director on comedy series such as "Jimmy Kimmel Live" and "Chappelle's Show," in addition to doing voice - over work.
"Maybe the older you get, the testosterone begins to flee your body. I also realized that being famous really wasn't something that I wanted. I'm much happier being behind the camera. I really just prefer writing and directing, and hiding behind the scenes. After 20-some years of doing stand-up, it's pretty cool to watch people go on a ride in a theater over a movie that you made."
The ride that Goldthwait brings audiences on in "Dogs," which was one of the most talked-about entries at this year's Sundance Film Festival, revolves around a smart, pretty schoolteacher named Amy (Melinda Page Hamilton) who reveals a sexual indiscretion to her golden-boy fiance, John (Bryce Johnson), when he suggests they share their deepest, darkest secrets with each other. The revelation, which involves Amy and her dog and can't be printed in a family newspaper, jeopardizes her engagement to John, strains her relationship with her conservative parents , and sends her life crashing down around her.
"I needed [a secret] that people couldn't get past," says Goldthwait. "It was a little bit like my stand-up. I used to just bring up a topic that would make people uncomfortable, and then spend the next five minutes or next hour trying to dig myself out of that hole. And that's what I think this [film] was like -- an experiment to see if I could actually dig myself out."
Despite a premise that could have resulted in a sophomoric, Farrelly brothers-type farce, Goldthwait instead delivers a nuanced film that forcefully argues that society's idealization of total honesty in relationships is bunk. "Dogs" has sharply drawn characters and turns out to be surprisingly authentic and sweet.
"I think what the movie manages to accomplish in terms of its tone and walking this incredibly fine line is really due to [ Goldthwait] and his skill as a director," remarks Hamilton, during a phone interview. "He has an unerring sense for what is funny, but he never went for the [easy] joke. It was always, 'Be honest. Be honest. Be honest. The funny will come.' "
Of course, striking the right balance was made considerably more difficult due to the low-budget nature of the shoot. To help finance the film, Goldthwait pawned a vintage Stratocaster guitar given to him by Robin Williams and relied on the help of friends, including producers Marty Pasetta and Sarah de Sa Rego. Shot guerrilla -style in just 16 days, with a crew made up partially of college students recruited from Craigslist, "Dogs" became an unexpected hit at Sundance under its original title "Stay." Since then, it has been making the rounds on the festival circuit.
The enthusiastic response to the film was a surprise, says Goldthwait. But even more unexpected is the reaction of audience members and friends who have broken out with a serious case of TMI (Too Much Information), suddenly wanting to confess their own explicit and embarrassing sexual secrets to a dumbfounded Goldthwait.
"It's weird because the point of the movie is that you're supposed to keep your mouth shut and not burden people with all of your indiscretions," he says, with a laugh. "I used to complain about how many clown paintings and clown cookie jars I got after 'Shakes the Clown.' But I think those are a lot easier to deal with than the images I now have in my head."
"Sleeping Dogs Lie" marks a major departure for Goldthwait as a director. His two previous features -- "Shakes," which this newspaper famously dubbed "the 'Citizen Kane' of alcoholic clown movies," and 2003's practical joke mockumentary "Windy City Heat" -- trafficked in extreme satire.
" 'Shakes the Clown' is a very sarcastic movie. There's nothing in that film that's supposed to be taken seriously," explains Goldthwait. "And now, years later, I've made a movie [in which] you're supposed to actually believe in the characters and care about what happens to them."
Growing up in Syracuse, N.Y., with fellow comedian and best bud Tom Kenny ("SpongeBob SquarePants"), Goldthwait started doing stand-up when he was just 15 and moved to Boston in 1980 during the city's comedy scene heyday. By the time he was 20, he had landed his big break on "Late Night With David Letterman," and before long was starring in films, including three "Police Academy" sequels, "Scrooged" with Bill Murray , and clunkers like "Hot to Trot," in which he played opposite a talking horse.
While he cites Steve Martin, George Carlin , and Andy Kaufman as comedic influences, Goldthwait also credits his parents for informing his particular brand of humor. He says that his mom was very dry and sarcastic while his dad was known for his elaborate, "Jackass"-style pranks.
"When I was a kid, I used to just watch him do these weird stunts like take a jar of mayonnaise out, climb on the top of the refrigerator and say that he was going to dive into [the jar]. Or he would plan to jump over the pool on a dirt bike and would spend all afternoon building a ramp. The whole neighborhood would be aflutter, and people would be laughing and freaking out. I didn't think it was weird that the other dads weren't threatening to jump into mayonnaise jars. I would just watch that and think: Oh, that's how you make people laugh. You make them uncomfortable."![]()
