20 Questions: Eric Bogosian

Eric Bogosian blazes his own trail. On arriving in New York City in 1976 with a newly minted theater-arts degree, he skipped the preliminaries ("I'm not an audition kind of guy") and went straight to the starving-actor role ("To try to live for a week on a bag of rice and a head of cabbage is an interesting idea"). He became a gofer for a theater group, took over a dance troupe and hung out in the liberated precincts of downtown Manhattan, where he brewed up a solo-performance style from his considerable native anger and the prevailing local Zeitgeist. "Everything had gotten so wishy-washy during the Seventies," says Bogosian, "so low-key and mellow. You wanted to come out and scream. Just smash things."

Bogosian's early monolog performances caught the eye of New York Shakespeare Festival impresario Joseph Papp, who tapped him to perform at the Public Theater. There he co-wrote the play "Talk Radio"; Oliver Stone directed the film version. Robert Altman directed him in a television special, "The Caine Mutiny Court Martial." He played roles in "Miami Vice," "Crime Story" and "The Twilight Zone." Some of his own work has appeared, heavily edited, on cable and PBS. But Bogosian remains best known for his monolog collections, including "FunHouse," "Drinking in America" and "Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll." A filmed performance of the last will be released in August.

Warren Kalbacker tracked Bogosian to his office on the edge of Little Italy in Lower Manhattan. "Bogosian's place is a study in black and white filled with books, tapes of his performances and tapes of heavy-metal rock. He favors black-and-white dress. There was just one patch of green in the place, the cover of a gardening magazine."

1.

[Q] Playboy: Your characters plead, cajole, threaten, offer skewed insights, suffer delusions and exhibit paranoia. Is your stage act your own cry for help?

[A] Bogosian: I need to solve my own personal problems. I know nowhere to look other than to myself, so I look at my own questionable traits. And then I personify them in a character. Early in my career, I spent a lot of time on things that had to do with sex, because I wanted to have better relationships with women. FunHouse was about pure, unadulterated fear, because at that point, I was just freaked out. My wife, Joann, and I were impoverished; we lived in this tiny apartment. Drinking in America, written when I became more successful, was about a hunger for power and success. Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll asks, How do you live when all you know how to do is party?

2.

[Q] Playboy: You honed your performance style in New York's downtown art scene. Was it easier and cheaper than enrolling in drama school?

[A] Bogosian: The downtown scene allowed me to walk out on stage every night and say and do whatever I wanted. I would go out and insult the shit out of the audience. There were nights when I took all my clothes off. I had fights with the audience. The best thing about the scene was that we were making our work and having a good time entertaining one another. I would perform in front of audiences that were guaranteed smart and hip. They didn't care whether or not I was doing something right, like some acting teacher had taught me. They would tell me whether or not they got it. I was performing loud, nasty, insulting stuff.

3.

[Q] Playboy: We noticed quite a few well-dressed uptown types at a recent performance of Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll. Is that kind of audience smart and hip enough for you?

[A] Bogosian: I'd say most of them enjoy it, twenty-five percent are not quite sure and a few people walk out. My stuff is not easy. It's not like joke, bang, laugh, then on to the next one. The comedian's goal is to make everybody laugh as often as he can, and the guy who makes them laugh the most is the best comedian. My job is to entertain myself in the most complicated and sophisticated and fun way I can so that I have a blast out there and as many people out there who are like me can similarly enjoy it. I don't give you all the answers. My characters analyze themselves, and I've done them enough so I'm starting to see that they all have a blind spot. If I make a piece right, the audience is thinking, What's wrong with this picture? That's the whole bit for me. You can be as powerful as you want, you'll never figure out life. Your dick can be huge. You can have a million bucks.

4.

[Q] Playboy: Does The Stud, your monolog about one man's extraordinary endowment, reflect your own desire for a larger penis?

[A] Bogosian: I was taking a pee one day and I looked down and I wished I had an eight-inch dick. You're going to quote me on that. Don't quote me on that. It's part of men's fascination with themselves. I wanted to take something out of the back room of male mentality and stick it right out in front of everybody. The Stud is one of my oldest pieces. Doing things about giant dicks is not that far out at the moment. There are probably twenty comics out there doing dick things. But when I started ten years ago, it was extremely embarrassing for men in the audience; they'd sit there with their hands folded over their crotches, not laughing, and the women would be laughing their guts out and the men would be getting angry. I thought it was great stuff going on between people in the theater.

5.

[Q] Playboy: Horny guys populate your monologs. Do you claim special knowledge of America's testosterone level?

[A] Bogosian: I'm very average in what I want. And my desires point me toward centerfold models as the ultimate, the ultimate, the ultimate. The ultimate accomplishment in my sexual life would be to ball a centerfold model. For a pretty girl with large breasts to be the object of delight to millions of red-blooded American men is perfectly normal. Nothing wrong with that. Guys get horny and need to focus on something. Large breasts are great. A large breast is a lovely thing at a particular moment. But as I become old and wise, I think the really important thing is being oriented toward something and understanding that you don't necessarily have to have the thing to enjoy the thing. I happen to be in love with a woman who has medium-sized breasts.

6.

[Q] Playboy: Aspiring performers often seek fame and fortune in New York. But we suspect that you didn't spend a whole lot of time auditioning for Broadway plays.

[A] Bogosian: For me, New York is not the museums and theaters and all those things that are nice and cultural. I love New York because the streets are entertainment. I roamed the streets all day. The library was where I took my pee and I hung anywhere I could see people. I got on the subways. I was up all night long. I saw lots of crazy shit. Nothing could be better than hitting a night club at midnight, closing that club, hitting another club at four in the morning, getting out of the club at eight, going over to Alex' on the Bowery and sitting around with a bunch of pimps and prostitutes. It's a blast. I used to live in an attic on Forty-third Street and Ninth Avenue. The fun thing about Forty-third and Ninth in those days was that it was a big haunt for transvestite prostitutes. They used to fight with the regular prostitutes. I'll never forget one regular prostitute screaming to a transvestite, "Three holes are better than two, baby!"

7.

[Q] Playboy: Are the citizens of Woburn, Massachusetts, relieved and delighted that Eric Bogosian moved to New York?

[A] Bogosian: I shouldn't say bad things about Woburn. Woburn is a wonderful place. But in Woburn, I'm smaller than most guys. In New York, I'm average size. In Woburn, I'm a wimp. In New York, I'm stronger than most guys I run into. And in New York, women like sensitive guys. In Woburn, sensitive guys are followed by cars slowly down the street. You've got to be into sports and smashing into other guys and getting into fistfights in bars just for the hell of it. "Let's get each other in headlocks and punch each other." I've never been one of those guys. I'm not gay, but I'm not a guy guy.

8.

[Q] Playboy: Does every Armenian name end in I-A-N?

[A] Bogosian: Unless it's been changed. Mike Connors' doesn't. It's an Armenian thing. One thing that's great for me about New York is that New Yorkers look more like me than people anywhere else in the country. There's a huge number of Jews in this city and I have the same kind of markings. There is the huge Latino population, so in New York, to be brown and curly-haired is not some kind of sin like it is in some other parts of the country.

9.

[Q] Playboy: Grants from the National Endowment for the Arts helped you develop your work. Did the taxpayers get their money's worth?

[A] Bogosian: Grants are good. If all grants worked the way they worked for me, I couldn't imagine a better system. What basically happens with the National Endowment for the Arts is that when you reach a certain level of quality, and everybody in the community knows you, then it's time to get a grant. For about two or three years, it was very hard for me to get one. My wife and I were very poor. It was a frustrating time in my career and the grant was a pat on the head, saying, "Good work." There are some artists who can't exist on the commercial scene and they need to continue to get support. You can't be overly idealistic about the arts.

10.

[Q] Playboy: Would you care to discuss over lunch with Senator Jesse Helms the redeeming social value of your Shit, Fuck, Piss monolog?

[A] Bogosian: Sure. Can you arrange it? I would try to persuade him to drink a glass of Clorox mixed with some Coca-Cola and see if he liked the taste. He's a pinhead, but what can I do about that? He's seized on something he can get a lot of attention with, with very little backlash. He displays a kind of courage, because he knows there's an unpopularity in what he says. The problem is not Jesse Helms, it's the people who run scared when he opens his mouth.

11.

[Q] Playboy: Is attendance at an Eric Bogosian performance an uplifting experience?

[A] Bogosian: The tradition for what I do is as old as the hills. I'm like a shaman. I get in front of the audience and I conjure up their worst fears and deflate that anxiety by showing that it's not as horrible as it might be if they just left it in the back of their brains and let it fester and grow. I walk down the street and I see two young black guys walking toward me and my brain trips off into being mugged or some kind of race war breaking out in New York City. Courage is really a central concern of mine. I wasn't very courageous when I was little. My life has been affected by fear of lack of money, lack of recognition, lack of housing. Lack of food. Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor both dealt with their personal fears in their work. I remember their bits better than routines about dieting or what's on TV and why it's so shitty. Who cares about those topics? I'd rather watch somebody bang his head against the wall and talk about what scares me. That makes me laugh harder.

12.

[Q] Playboy: The film Talk Radio, which you co-wrote and in which you star, headed to the video stores soon after its release. Were you disappointed in its box-office performance?

[A] Bogosian: Talk Radio has had a tremendous afterlife. The movie has come back with a vengeance. It's a big video hit. I'm very aware of a lot of people knowing me and seeing me because of the movie. I walked into a strip joint in Tampa and the stripper stopped stripping and jumped off stage to tell some of the other girls that I was in the audience. She came up to me later, topless, and said, "I know who you are. You're that Talk Radio guy." Now, what was I doing in a strip joint in Tampa? I was promoting the record of Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll, and since the days of cocaine and payola are over, sexy experiences are now the stock in trade of record promoters. This one promoter promised he'd show me a funny place. It was so funny I lasted there about fifteen minutes.

13.

[Q] Playboy: You are synonymous with the downtown New York scene. Do you dream crossover dreams?

[A] Bogosian: At this time, I don't think I'm going to show up as some kind of box-office attraction. But you never know. I'd like to be a star. There's always the challenge, especially when you're surrounded by agents and producers, to see if you can really catch the gold ring. Can I fill Madison Square Garden? Can I go on Johnny and do a killer five minutes? I can't imagine getting on Letterman. People would watch and say they knew what I was doing: This guy plays thugs from New Jersey and subway panhandlers. They wouldn't see the irony; it would be like I'm just making cruel fun of these guys. I need an audience to be with me for a little while.

14.

[Q] Playboy: You've acquired a lot of material from the street people of New York. Do you pay them back with spare change in lieu of royalties?

[A] Bogosian: Sometimes I toss a quarter, sometimes I don't. It really varies because of what I know about them. I'm very familiar with the streets in this area. I know who a lot of the guys are and I know their stories. There's a Vietnam vet around here who was actually a mercenary later on in Africa. He's not really homeless. He owns a couple of buildings, but he stays on the street all the time and he begs. He doesn't need money. I wouldn't give it. On the other hand, there's a guy around here who clearly should be institutionalized. He has a lot of physical and mental problems and he's very sad and he just stands there with a cup and begs.

15.

[Q] Playboy: You've bought a house in New Jersey. Will crab grass begin to crop up in your monologs?

[A] Bogosian: It has already. I did a monolog called Normal Guy. I like gardening a lot. Gardening gets me real mellow. I grow twenty-five kinds of vegetables, and when I'm lucky, like last summer, a lot of things come up very nicely. I grow lettuce and beets and carrots and different varieties of cucumbers. I grow different varieties of corn and tomatoes and squash and pumpkins and peppers and okra and all kinds of neat stuff. And early in August, you get to a point where everything you're eating that night at dinner was grown in your own garden. That's nice. However, when you garden, you find out that in order to get your vegetables to look good, you have to kill everything within a hundred yards: animals, plants and little insects. And you realize that after you do all that, you still end up with this gnarled little carrot. Then you go to the supermarket and you get this perfect carrot and you wonder, What are they killing to make these?

16.

[Q] Playboy: One of your characters defines being civilized as sitting on a couch with a babe, watching TV, eating clam dip on a ripple potato chip, smoking joints, snorting coke--and swilling bourbon, beer and champagne. What's your vision of the civilized life?

[A] Bogosian: In New Jersey, we have a fireplace and we're very, very civilized. I'm sitting on the couch and the fire is going and snow is falling outside and I'm reading a pulp novel by Stephen King. Being over thirty-five, there's no question that there is a vibe in me that's moving toward a Stratolounger with a bowl of potato chips and cable TV with a channel selector. I will fight that tooth and nail. It scares me. I like middle-class life. I don't think it's a sin to be middle class. I don't have to be mainstream to be comfortable. I've spent time with Frank Zappa, and he has a very normal, middle-class existence. He's a daddy and has a whole family and they have pizza for lunch and they have pets and it's a very normal life. But he's not mainstream and never will be.

17.

[Q] Playboy: You've publicly thanked your parents, Henry and Edwina, for their encouragement and support. Were you a good little boy?

[A] Bogosian: I was probably quite spoiled. I was a bright kid and things came easily to me and I never really learned to make an effort. And I got angry when I couldn't have things my way. I wasn't real happy about the way my childhood turned out in terms of my relationships with a lot of other little kids. For some reason, I developed tremendous resentments. I have a huge amount of anger.

18.

[Q] Playboy: Have you constructively channeled your anger into your career?

[A] Bogosian: The first few years, I thought it was really important to let everybody know I destroyed my dressing room in Edinburgh or got into a fistfight with a club owner someplace or that I used to do hard drugs. The big thing then was to be the guy all the time. Never stop. And I didn't like that. It was so far from me as a person that it was creating a strain on me. There are no artists who continue to work their whole lives who can stay in those insane places. They have to come home and take their insane hat and tie off, hang them up and relax for a while, just so they can go back out there and make it even more intense the next time around. Now I'm not afraid to tell you that I garden.

19.

[Q] Playboy: You admit to more than a little experience with sex, drugs and rock and roll. Did you learn any lessons from your years of living dangerously?

[A] Bogosian: I partied pretty hardy in the Seventies and early Eighties. At first, it was a very energetic experience. No question. You stay up late. You get yourself in trouble. It's great. Then it becomes walking death. I really regretted the time I lost being in a permanent hangover, a stupor, looking for the next sedation. I don't believe the drugs helped me do my work better. Probably worse. I would have been making better work sooner. I probably would have been known by more people, because I wouldn't have been so difficult to deal with. I recently found out that a big movie I wanted to be involved in rejected even the notion of my auditioning, because five years ago, I insulted some producer who was working on the movie and he's never forgotten it. I didn't kiss his ass really hard enough; it's too bad that shit has to follow me around.

20.

[Q] Playboy: How will you react when your son discovers sex, drugs, rock and roll?

[A] Bogosian: He's probably going to check that stuff out. A lot of people checked out drugs and put drugs down and moved on with their lives. My son is a lot like me and he's got a lot of energy and he's very perceptive and he's got a little aggression in him, and yet he doesn't like to fight. When Harry's fifteen, something will come up that will bother the shit out of me and that I will have no experience with. They'll all have this little button that they can attach to their wrists and have nonstop orgasms. I'll find out that he's in his bedroom all night long pushing this button hundreds of times and I'm going to be freaked by it.

the raging monologist who gave us "talk radio" raps about street life, horny guys and the redemptive joys of gardening