20 Questions: Joe Piscopo

Contributing Editor David Rensin followed "Saturday Night Line's" rubber-faced funnyman Joe Piscopo around 30 Rockefeller Center with one burning question. Says Rensin, "From the 'S.N.L.' set to Joe's dressing room to wardrobe to his office, I had to know: If the name Piscopo were a verb, what would it mean? Piscopo didn't know but later revealed that his surname meant bishop in Greek. What follows, then, is also a '20 Questions' with Joey Bishop."

1.

[Q] Playboy: Describe in intimate detail the sexual habits of the new Saturday Night Live cast.

[A] Piscopo: I don't know about their outside habits, but we do have these orgies every Saturday about 11:15 P.M. to loosen up for the show. It's usually in Eddie [Murphy]'s dressing room. It's exciting. We're all pretty wild. The lamb, however, goes a little crazy.

2.

[Q] Playboy: What's the funniest thing that happens to you during sex?

[A] Piscopo: Oh, Jeez. I don't believe in talking about my sex life with my wife. I can't stand guys who walk around saying things like [very heavy New York--construction-worker accent], "Holy shit, I'm horny! I think I'll go fuck the shit out of my wife. You know, she was sitting on my face last night and it was fuckin' great. The phone rang, but I let it go, because it was really fuckin' great. Unbelievable. Fucked the shit out of her. Hey, when's the last time you fucked your wife up the ass?" People who say that should be shot. But you hear it all the time, right? I think too much of my wife to put those things in print.

3.

[Q] Playboy: Ok, then, when did your personal sexual routine become guilt-free?

[A] Piscopo: I've never been guilt-free about sex. I'm Catholic. You sure you don't want me to talk about my comedy routine? Ok. I had a sexual routine early on, in my cocky-asshole days. We all tried to be so cool about sex. [Smooth voice] "Hey, baby, everything's line, baby. You feel me inside you, baby." But then you get close to orgasm and--arrgghh!--you totally lose it. Happens every time. Now I even feel awkward talking about sex. I've been married for ten years. I've been perfectly straight. Plus, my in-laws will be reading this. I feel funny. Shy. Embarrassed. No one's ever asked me these questions before. Sex was never really a major reason for my existence, anyway. Once in a while, I just jumped into the sack; I've done my share of playing around. But mostly, emotional relationships turned me on. I know I'm ruining my reputation as an Italian. My relatives are all saying, "What is he over here? A faggot?" Maybe it was fear or something, but if a woman came on to me, it was a turnoff. I lost all respect. I was brought up very Italian. The woman you married and your mother had to be perfect angels. At times, I think of myself as macho. But when we talk about this, I get real shy. I think underneath it all, I'm very sensitive.

4.

[Q] Playboy: What's the toughest thing about being a regular guy?

[A] Piscopo: It stands in the way of being funny. Keeping up the drive is tough. I don't have that rapid-fire, hard edge all the time. Eddie is the only person I know who is regular and has that quick comedy. You have to have a little anger inside to do that. I've had a wonderful life. Michael O'Donoghue once said I was the guy who would blow away the family, the nut who would hold the neighborhood hostage, because I was so regular.

5.

[Q] Playboy: Is your wide range of impressions a skill or a sickness?

[A] Piscopo: Lots of people who do impressions are weird. I refer to what I do as "characters." I relate "impressions" to Vegas, and I'm so afraid that when Saturday Night is over, I'll see Joe piscopo is Andy Rooney on some Vegas marquee. If I do a character well, like Letterman or Rooney or Snyder, then it's an impression. Otherwise, Sinatra, Koppel, Rather, McMahon, Hartman--they're just inexact characters. People see my Sinatra and know it's still me. I prefer it that way, because you can sometimes really get lost behind those impressions. It's scary. When I learn a character, I literally live with video tapes of him for weeks. My wife becomes a widow. She shoves food in front of me. I go home at one or two in the morning, and right away I put on the tapes. Then it's fast forward, freeze frame, reverse, forward, over and over. Then I make an audio tape of my voice and play it again and again in the car. I watch more video tape at work before I write the piece. About the only thing I don't do is tape the characterization beforehand to see if it's right. I do it cold in dress rehearsal. And through it all, I get to know those people better than anyone. I look into their eyes. I know this sounds bizarre, but somehow I can see that the people I do are Ok. Jerry Lewis, when I do the nutty professor. Even Reagan. Of course, I haven't done Nixon yet, so I'm not entirely sure.

6.

[Q] Playboy: Did you have any second thoughts about doing Tom Snyder after Dan Aykroyd had made that impression famous on the original Saturday Night?

[A] Piscopo: I cannot tell you how tough it was just replacing the first cast. I'd walk down the street and someone would say, "Hey, Saturday Night, right?" I'd say, "Yeah." He'd say, "You suck!" When I was asked to do Snyder, I thought they were crazy. But I was told not to worry. So the first time, I put a little twist on it and did a Spanish Tom Snyder. They gave me a thin mustache. On the newscast, we said, "Tom is trying to boost his ratings by hitting the Hispanic audience." [Breaks into rapid-fire Spanish and ends with Snyder laugh] It worked really well. Then, Eddie wanted to do Gumby and needed a setup. Snyder was almost off the air at that point, and someone suggested I do The Uncle Tom Show. I had a big bow tie, still had the cigarette and had Gumby as the guest. "Good morning, boys and girls. How the hell are you? Ha, ha, ha. Shel's over there, and he was drinking all night, ha, ha, so if the camera wiggles, don't worry about it, Ok? Ha, ha." When Snyder was finally off the air, we did him straight-out in his hotel room, holding a Teddy bear. It was a well-written sketch and it showed, sensitively, the way NBC had just said, "Well, Tom, thanks but no thanks." It took my doing all three before I finally stopped feeling self-conscious about following Aykroyd.

7.

[Q] Playboy: Why does America have a sneaking suspicion that David Letterman is neither as hip nor as happy as he would like us to believe?

[A] Piscopo: It's exactly that quality in Letterman that appeals to me most. I can't stand people who walk around saying, "Life is great. How (continued on page 178) Joe Piscopo (continued from page 131) wonderful. Let's get laid." People who are too up and positive make me nervous. But I love Letterman. He's not your typical talk-show host. He's not overly enthusiastic. He takes risks, though sometimes they don't work. I don't even see, as some critics have suggested, where he's acid-tongued or an inept interviewer. The first time I did my Letterman character was on Letterman's show. He was really gracious. He asked if I was thinking of doing anyone new, and I said, "Yeah. You." Then I put the little spacer in my teeth and said [breaks into Letterman], "Oh, my, oh, my. We're having more fun than human beings should be allowed, ladies and gentlemen." I looked into his eyes, and it was wonderful. He seemed to get a real kick out of it.

8.

[Q] Playboy: Where do you draw the humor line?

[A] Piscopo: At vicious attacks on living people. On the other hand, I could easily have done humor about Princess Grace shortly after her death, because for some reason, people were making too much of her being this angel. So dead people are Ok. Elvis is fine. I wanted to do Karen Carpenter for Death-TV. I hope that when I die, people make fun of me, as when Howard Hesseman hosted the show and did Belushi jokes in his monolog. It was wonderful. Belushi would have appreciated it. There's something really silly about mourning the dead. I remember a sketch we did called "Rock-'n'-Roll Heaven." We marketed Jimi Hen-drix syringe darts; a Jim Croce plane that crashed by itself; Mama Cass lunch boxes. That's hysterical to me, damn it; but to attack living people is uncalled for. But, hey, talk to me when I'm gone. I'll be in my grave and people will be doing Piscopo jokes.

9.

[Q] Playboy: Do you have any joke items, such as whoopee cushions or clown paintings, in your house?

[A] Piscopo: My God, no. If you've got clown paintings, you've got serious problems. I don't understand clowns, anyway. People make clowns out like they're brilliant. But, hey, they paint their face, walk out and fall on their ass. Brilliant. They go out and get into a barrel. Rough work. I never even laughed at clowns as a kid. Clowns are like mimes. I don't understand mimes, either. In fact, I can speak on behalf of the entire cast: We're not mime fans, to put it mildly. Once, a guy in full mime regalia--white face, big shoes, gloves--auditioned for one of the films we were doing. He kept at it so much that it was pathetic. You know, get the fuck out of here. I've never seen mime as an art form. I don't mean to be nasty, because I'm sure mimes and clowns are very nice people.

10.

[Q] Playboy: What's wrong with most comedy albums?

[A] Piscopo: Comics are funny visually, so when they record an album of stand-up material, it's usually not as good as seeing them onstage. Also, there's a real void of albums in the Lampoon vein. Or stuff like when Albert Brooks said, "You be the comedian," and left little gaps on the record for the listener. Both were brilliant. I want to do comedy sketches on my next album. One idea is using Allen Funt and making Candid Camera a thread. It would be as though you were switching a TV dial. You'd hear, "And now, here's Mr. Candid Camera himself, Mr. Allen Funt!" Then: "We took some Tylenol capsules, opened them up and . . ." Click. Later, "We went to Washington, D.C., and raised the 14th Street bridge about eight feet and . . ." Click. "We went to the Bellevue Stratford Hotel in Philadelphia dressed as air-conditioning repairmen . . ." Click. Again, dead humor is great.

11.

[Q] Playboy: You're playing a gangster in your first feature film, Johnny Dangerously. Many of your Saturday Night predecessors have gone on to do feature films. What has their experience taught you?

[A] Piscopo: I have to be very careful. I could do an Animal House or a Stripes tomorrow, but I shouldn't copy Belushi or Murray. So I've already turned down projects. Those guys from the old cast could more easily make mistakes with their first films because the show itself was so popular. But if 48 HRS. hadn't worked for Eddie, he'd be in a lot of trouble. So I just want to be in something that has quality to it. I want the reaction to be, "Hey, nice performance." I also love being in television, and it's where I truly want to end up. But I have to give films a shot, because it's the natural transition.

12.

[Q] Playboy: You and Murphy are friends. Where do you hang out together? What do you do?

[A] Piscopo: Eddie's one of those magic people. We laugh and do a lot of silly things. We bought matching black Jaguar XJSes-- now I'll be making personal appearances in Akron, Ohio, to pay for mine. The last time I hung out with the Murph, he took me in his limo to see the new offices of Eddie Murphy Productions. It was a terrific two-story brownstone with a waterfall upstairs and Eddie's big office downstairs. We also go to night clubs. I take him to my house occasionally. My son loves Eddie. Our evenings are always pretty straight, because Eddie doesn't do drugs or smoke anything. He doesn't even drink. I usually have a beer. His favorite drink is root beer with no ice.

You know, I couldn't see myself on the show without him. We're not blood brothers or anything, but Eddie is a source of inspiration. When he comes up to my office and we're fooling around, I can write more easily. I've been having trouble writing since he's been off working on movies. I know it sounds like two old homos talking, but you know how it is when you have a friend you can goof off with.

13.

[Q] Playboy: Which five guests would you invite to a fantasy luncheon in your honor?

[A] Piscopo: Frank Sinatra first. He's the ultimate human being. I've always wanted to meet him. I once heard a rumor that he was my dad. I was honored. It's not that I don't respect my real father enormously, but having Frank as your dad is nothing to sneeze at. Also, Frank raises millions for charity. He's a grandfather. He's a performer. And he's got this don't-mess-with-me attitude. Next, I'd have my real father, because he's always been so supportive of me. My mother is also great, but she'd be nagging me to get out of acting: "You should study more." I probably should have listened, because when I look at my NBC contract, I don't know what's going on. I have my wife look it over. But my dad has always been right there, saying, "You're terrific." Third, I'd have my wife, Nancy. Actually, you'd have to throw this luncheon for both of us. So, third--Kim Novak? No, Mickey Mantle. He was my childhood hero. I'd also have my brother, Richie, there. We're close. He understands. And last, hell, President Reagan. I don't necessarily want to meet the guy, but he throws a lot of weight around. And he knows Frank, and that might make Frank feel a bit more at home.

14.

[Q] Playboy: Why do you do what you do?

[A] Piscopo: Can we get serious for a second? I don't know why. I resent having this drive; I wish I could get up in the morning and say, "Honey, I'm going to mow some lawns now" and just be a gardener and plant trees all day. I'd have a beer at lunch, have a great time, go home, play with my kid, go to bed early, get up and do it all over again. But there's something in me that wants to perform on TV, go to night clubs occasionally and do movies. And the drive is a pain in the ass. I can't have a normal life. I haven't seen my family in the two and a half years I've been on the show. I want to be a good husband and a good father, but I don't think I have been. Sure, I've been Ok. I drag my son to the studio once in a while and he loves it.

[A] I could be a househusband. Seriously, I envy what my wife does. I could get into having a beer, mowing the lawn, doing the laundry, sitting around. I'm comfortable cleaning the kitchen. Some people like to iron, but for me that's rough. It's almost like my own work. I look at a shirt and see creases I missed. I'm never satisfied. But if I see clean kitchen counters, I'm happy. In fact, cleaning the kitchen is my favorite household task. I keep the TV going, put the dishes in the dishwasher, put the bread away, clean on top of the refrigerator--most people forget that. Shopping's a gas, too. Maybe that should have been my first movie: The Shopper. Or Groceries. I like to shop at dinnertime, when everyone else is eating. If my wife says there's a new shop in the area, I say, "Oh? How's the produce department? Good apples?" That's all I want to do, except that I still have this drive to perform. I don't really think I could just stare at a clean kitchen counter and be completely satisfied. But still, people will read this and say, "The guy's an asshole. A domestic asshole, too."

15.

[Q] Playboy: If you could be someone else for a day, who would it be?

[A] Piscopo: Van Gordon Sauter, president of CBS News. I would love to call up Dan Rather and say, "What have you got for us tonight, Dan? Gee, I don't know. You sure you're not hitting it too hard on that side? Make sure it's objective, Ok? Have a nice day, pal. Dan? Calm down. Relax. Ok?" I love the news and I'm in awe of CBS News. And 60 Minutes. Anybody who has the balls to hire Andy Rooney must be doing something right.

16.

[Q] Playboy: Ok, you've been granted a 60-second interview with Princess Diana. What would you talk about?

[A] Piscopo: I'd tell her I admire her because she obviously dislikes all the attention and just wants to stay home and hang out with Chuck. I can identify with that. I'd also clear up some rumors, like whether or not she's got anorexia nervosa and the stuff about Chuck's really being gay. I don't think I'd mention that I found the whole wedding thing a bore, though. I didn't get into it one bit, and after the networks spent all that money. Frankly, I think the English monarchy is one of the most ridiculous things in the world. They've got all this money that they spend on pomp, ceremony, jewels and crowns when it could be put to some worthwhile use. But I like Di. From what I hear, she seems a regular gal. She doesn't like to put up with the bullshit.

17.

[Q] Playboy: What's the future of sports in America in 25 words or less?

[A] Piscopo: Hello again, everybody. Joe Piscopo. Live. Saturday Night Sports. The big story? Sports. The future? Expensive!

18.

[Q] Playboy: What convinced you to do a Battle of the Network Stars?

[A] Piscopo: Only one reason--to meet Howard Cosell. I was in this event where you throw a softball at a target and if you hit it, an actress in a T-shirt and a bikini bottom falls into a tank of water. I was terrible at it. My arm is a bit erratic when I'm not in training. I had three throws and missed two. Cosell kept yelling, "You stink! Get him out of there." I think Catherine Bach was on the drop seat, and Cosell kept busting my ass about how much I wanted her. That was his idea of humor. He kept saying, "I see the lust in your eyes, Piscopo. You want that woman. I cannot tell you how happily married I am. I kept telling Howard, but he wouldn't let up. We flew back to New York together. He's a thoroughly enjoyable, fascinating man.

[A] Another reason I did the show is that you can make big bucks. During the tug of war, I kept yelling, "C'mon. Pull. Pull. I need the money." But the Hollywood stars just said, "Who needs it? I already have my Mercedes."

19.

[Q] Playboy: If, in overdue recognition of your fanatic dedication to athletics, Sports Illustrated asked you to edit its annual swimsuit issue, how would you handle the assignment?

[A] Piscopo: I'd put young boys on the cover. No. How could I say that? Well, the girls they use, like Cheryl Tiegs and Christie Brinkley, are very attractive, but I'd use real women. Elke Sommer. Linda Evans. Kim Novak. She used to knock me out. They're all classy, sexy ladies. [Aside] Now, Nancy, if you're reading this, I love you, baby, and you should be on the cover. But for the sake of Playboy, I'd put in women with tits. Nice women. Sexy women. At the risk of my wife's leaving me. [Phone rings] Saved by the phone. "Oh, hi. Just talking about you. Uh-huh. Ok, be home soon." [Hangs up] I feel very self-conscious talking about other women. I respect my wife more than anything. I don't want to offend her. So let's say I'd put matronly women in. How about Ethel Merman in a two-piece bathing suit on the cover? Kate Smith? Be great.

20.

[Q] Playboy: What's a better way to spend Saturday night than watching your show?

[A] Piscopo: [Heavy New York accent] Hey, fuckin' your wife!

"I hope that when I die, people make fun of me. There's something really silly about mourning the dead."