20 Questions: Janeane Garofalo

Actress and comedian Janeane Garofalo, 32, is fearless when it comes to answering questions. She cannot tell a lie. She is also unself-conscious--starting this interview in her hotel bathroom while brushing her teeth and putting on makeup. Such forthrightness also informs her stand-up act, in which she eschews the setup--and--punch line method for the slice-of-life on wry. Her deadpan veracity also comes through in her role as Paula the talent booker on HBO's "Larry Sanders Show," and in her duties as host of Comedy Central's "Comedy Product." Garofalo, who thinks she will never be more than a cult figure, has also found success in the movies. She was Winona Ryder's friend and roommate in "Reality Bites" and Randy Quaid's acerbic date-from-hell in "Bye Bye Love." Another recent success was as Abby, the talk-show veterinarian with a self-esteem problem, in last spring's hit romantic comedy "The Truth About Cats and Dogs." Next she plays an elephant trainer in "Larger Than Life" with Bill Murray. Contributing Editor David Rensin met with her in Aspen during the U.S. Comedy Arts Festival. Says Rensin of the experience: "I've never met a woman more clear about who she is than Janeane Garofalo. It definitely takes your breath away."

1.

Playboy: You've been called the patron saint of alternative comedy. Why?

Garofalo: I hate the word alternative. It's a dumb label, just like grunge and Gen-X. If you wanted to apply the word literally, it would be the alternative to shticky, hacky, jokey comedy. And the venue is an alternative to the comedy clubs. Usually you see this comedy in a coffee shop, bookstore or bar. The style is more spoken word--meets--stand--up. I've done it since I started, and so have many of my friends, like David Cross, Bob Odenkirk and Dana Gould. We've all written stuff down, but we're also just as likely on some nights to completely go off for the 30 minutes we're onstage. We've always been here. It's just that if you are around long enough, people start seeing you and go, "Oh!"

2.

Playboy: Onstage you've talked about feeling like you want to slug a guy while he's having sex with you and scream, "Stop fucking me!" We suspect this story is based on real life. Care to elaborate?

Garofalo: I was dating a comedian who is now a friend of mine. We were out once, and I was eating Ben & Jerry's ice cream out of the carton. He said, "I hope you're not going to finish that." When I heard that I was seething. Like: You're not supposed to say anything about what I eat. You're supposed to think I'm a goddess, no matter what. I didn't say anything about it, but all I could think was, If you think we're gonna have sex later, you're high. When we got home, we went to bed and ... we had sex. But I couldn't forget the Ben & Jerry's comment, and all I could think was, Stop fucking me or I'm gonna punch you in the face. Didn't say anything, though. [Laughs] Ah, the thoughts that run through one's head.

3.

Playboy: You've also complained about the tyranny of lookism, that women are made to feel bad about themselves because of their physical appearance. But is this perpetuated only by men? Don't women have visual standards too?

Garofalo: I had this discussion over dinner with Jon Lovitz. He said that the first thing 90 percent of guys focus on is looks. They want their peers to find their girlfriend hot. Women can be more impressed by wit, intelligence and warmth. Let's break it down this way, if we can go shallow: Look at the "Star Tracks" pages in People magazine. Whenever you see an actor and his girlfriend, is it surprising what the girl looks like? When Charlie Sheen gets married, are you shocked that his bride is stunning? Are you shocked when Nicholson squires around somebody who looks so good? It's always like that. The shock is when they have someone who doesn't look like that. And it's noticeable. It's so rare, you make a mental note of it. You go, Oh my God, his wife is actually his age and looks like a normal woman.

4.

Playboy: You recently lost about 25 pounds, despite having said that doing so would be selling out. Please defend yourself.

Garofalo: I am a sellout, I admit it. I will not pretend. I joined the other side, the wrong team. I am not proud of it. It was a calculated career move. After Larry Sanders wrapped for last season I wasn't working. I had just bought a co-op and wasn't doing real well financially. I thought, Fuck, I've got to work. What would help? The answer: being thinner. Talent isn't the first thing people look at, obviously. You can tell that by the people who are working. Especially for women, thinness and looks are key, unless you want to play only one type of part, over and over and over again: the bitter, because-you're-overweight-means-you-don't-have-a-vagina sidekick, best friend, roommate, single gal. The Eve Arden part. That's boring. Now that I'm thinner I get to audition for the wife and love-interest parts I didn't get to do before. That's a step in the right direction. Wait. I don't even want to say "right direction." It's a step in a different direction. If I could have fought the good fight and kept working at my former weight, I'd have done it. After all that work and not eating after five P.M. I don't feel thin. I feel like I could lose more weight. I'm not proud of this. I know I'm being a loser. I've bought into the patriarchal standard of what's acceptable. I don't recommend it.

5.

Playboy: But you've had some good parts. You made a movie with Bill Murray, Larger Than Life, in which you play an elephant wrangler. In The Truth About Cats and Dogs, with Uma Thurman, you play a radio veterinarian. Is this a trend? What phrases from the pachyderm vernacular now show up in your everyday lexicon?

Garofalo: Two animal movies are sheer happenstance. The elephant, Tai, had worked in Operation Dumbo Drop. We had coffee together, talked about the biz. Nice elephant, kept taking big dumps everywhere. "Ew, what's that smell?" is about the only phrase that leaked into my vocabulary.

6.

Playboy: Are you ever afraid that you may inspire such intense fandom that one becomes a stalker?

Garofalo: I'm not worried about that. I don't think I'll ever achieve a level in this business beyond having a small core of people who like what I do. I'll never be so big that I can't go out. I'm not saying that in an aw-shucks way, I'm speaking realistically. I may be one of those people about whom someone occasionally says, "That girl over there drinking coffee, how do I know her? Do I know her from TV or is that your roommate's ex-girlfriend?"

7.

Playboy: You've made no bones about despising Hootie & the Blowfish. Describe the Hootification of America and tell us if their popularity is emblematic of some deep-seated social malaise.

Garofalo: Most of the huge artists, musically speaking--Mariah Carey, Hootie, Michael Jackson, Michael Bolton--are popular because they are utterly mediocre. Mariah Carey is the definition of mediocrity to me, so how could she not be embraced by the public? The American public is not an arbiter of taste. People go to what they know. And radio force-feeds you Hootie and Mariah. You are forced to listen to that bullshit. You don't want it. I want to hear more Elvis Costello, more P.J. Harvey, and I have to seek it out. They won't give it to me, and I don't think that's fair. But I don't dislike middle America and John and Jane Q. Public. Most of my relatives are middle America. I dislike the taste makers. I dislike what tends to be popular. I don't like T.G.I. Friday's, I don't like Planet Hollywood. I don't like stuffed potato, skins. I don't like that kind of culture. I. dislike the Super Bowl in my face all the time. I don't give a fuck about the Super Bowl. I don't want to see Friends anymore, even though I am friends with some of the Friends. I don't want to see any more ads for Got Milk? or Diet Coke. I don't want to see a Gap store every five seconds. I don't like those clothes. Starbucks is the only thing that I will put up with that permeates the culture.

8.

Playboy: Describe the perfect latte.

Garofalo: This is really important to me. I prefer less foam. I like it to be a flat latte, if you will. There has to be the perfect ratio of steamed milk to coffee. I don't like it when I pick up my latte off the counter and it's light, like there's hardly and coffee in there and it's all foam. I like it to be a heavy latte with a lot of coffee. Sometimes they pour in coffee, then milk, then more coffee, like in layers. That, no foam on top and a shot of hazelnut syrup. A grande hazelnut latte.

9.

Playboy: David Letterman reportedly once held up a handwritten note to Sandra Bernhard that read "I hate myself." Your production company is called I Hate Myself. Have you and Letterman discussed your mutual self-loathings?

Garofalo: He knows I hate myself. Once when I was on the show he said, "Don't be so hard on yourself." I said, "If I don't have my self-loathing, what do I have?" He laughed and looked at me, and I knew he hated himself too. But I don't think he's going to confide in me. I have self-loathing in that I am frequently disappointed in myself. I don't work hard enough, don't write enough, don't donate enough to charity, don't read enough. But I don't have low self-esteem. I am a confident person. I don't make bad choices in destructive relationships. I don't abuse myself in a major way. I just grind my teeth. I have a bite plate, but unfortunately I can't wear it. It covers the roof of my mouth and I can't sleep in it. So I've wasted a lot of money on it, which causes more self-loathing, which makes me grind my teeth more. I just want to be a better person. I want to be funnier, I want to be smarter, I want to be healthier, I want to be nicer. But self-loathing drives me. I guess it's a good thing. Better than being arrogant or being content to be a dick.

10.

Playboy: Which particular aspect of your personality gets you into the most trouble?

Garofalo: I can't keep my mouth shut. When people ask me a direct question, I answer it.

11.

Playboy: OK. What's in your underwear drawer that might surprise us?

Garofalo: I have some underwear by a line called Pussy Scented. They're a little racy. That's not very me. I got them because there's a cute little kitty on the crotch. They were at X-Girl or someplace, five pairs for $5--that's unheard of for women's underwear. One hundred percent cotton. White with a triangle, strings on the side and a kitty over the crotch panel, winking. A former boyfriend liked them. The first time he saw them it was like wow, because that's not something I usually wear. I don't try to dress provocatively. I dress exactly like the millions of people who listen to college radio. In other words, I dress to the far left of the dial. And I don't do any weird shenanigans in the bedroom. I don't have oils. I'm meat and potatoes when it comes to sexuality. In fact, sexuality embarrasses me. I'm very anxious about having sex with the lights on. I'm so not a person who would try to entice my lover with Pussy Scented underwear.

12.

Playboy: Men know what a high-maintenance woman is. Do you qualify? Are there high-maintenance men? Describe their care and feeding.

Garofalo: I don't think it knows gender. I don't think most high-maintenance people know they are, either. I've had high-maintenance boyfriends. You have to be supportive of them in all aspects of life, to the nth degree. It's all about them, and you have to be willing to submit to that. So your dysfunction and theirs must fit like a glove. I'm high-maintenance in one area. Environmentally speaking, I'm highly adaptable. I'm not a complainer when it comes to, "What are we doing this weekend?" I don't have to be entertained. I don't care where we go. My only neurosis is insecurity, and I always admit it. I warn the person if I'm about to go on a rant. Some people think that makes it charming. My insecurity covers all the bases: sexual, career, physical. I worry that all of a sudden the people in my life are going to wake up and ask, "How could we have fooled ourselves about Janeane?" I'm always thinking my boyfriends will break up with me first, so I try to beat them to the punch. Then I wind up really screwing myself over, and I'm the only one who suffers in the end.

13.

Playboy: What do you drink, when you drink, and what have you discovered the morning after that you have no memory of doing the night before?

Garofalo: The only thing I'll drink is Stoli on the rocks or good tequila, like Patrón. I'm a totally cheap date. It takes me only two drinks to forget. For instance, a couple weeks ago three of my comedian friends, David Cross, Bob Odenkirk and Ross Brockley, and I went out for drinks in New York. I thought I'd just had a few drinks and walked home, I swear to God. But the next morning I woke up and rolled over, and there was Ross Brockley. My first thought was, Oh, I know that guy! He's funny. Thank God it's a good comic. I mean, he could have been a hack. Anyway, we were both fully clothed. We hadn't done anything. I mean, we weren't so drunk that we did it and then put our clothes on and contacts back in so that when we got up we wouldn't be embarrassed--though that would have been interesting. I asked him what happened and he said I said, "You wanna go listen to CDs?" We walked home, got something to eat on the way, went to my apartment and listened to CDs till dawn, and then just fell out on the bed.

(concluded on page 140) Janeane Garofalo (continued from page 124)

It's far more intimate to wake up naked in the morning with someone than to have sex with him at night.

14.

Playboy: What sort of 900 number would you call?

Garofalo: Mike Myers and I called a telepsychic to have our fortunes told. It was so general, hilarious and retarded. They say, "I see a change coming. You're not happy at work. Do you have a relationship problem? I see a relationship problem." To Mike she said, "You're not doing well at work." He said, "Ma'am, I'll be honest with you: This is Mike Myers and I've done very well for myself. You know, Wayne's World?" She goes, "Oh. Hmmm." Then she tried to backpedal. I feel sorry for people who hang all their hopes on this stuff because they desperately want a change in their life.

15.

Playboy: Your cartoon self once appeared on Comedy Central's Dr. Katz. When last seen she told the doctor he wasn't helpful, and split. What's the two dimensional Janeane doing now?

Garofalo: I don't know. I haven't heard from her since. She got in her cartoon automobile, hit the high road and kept driving. She's probably fine. In her world they don't really need a lot of money. She doesn't need to eat or buy new clothes. A little cartoon money goes a long way.

16.

Playboy: What do women insist degrades them that you suspect might not degrade them at all? What do women view as self-enhancing that is in fact degrading?

Garofalo: When Pat Buchanan came out against the Beijing Women's Conference and there were women standing next to him, smiling and laughing when he was making fun of it, I was so embarrassed. I don't mind when the more liberal or moderate Republican women talk about smaller government or money issues and things of that nature. But when I see a conservative Republican woman in line with the Christian right or coming out against abortion and day-care issues and for taking away women's aid, I see a self-hating, unenlightened woman, like a self-hating Jew. That blows my mind. I don't get it at all.

17.

Playboy: There was an episode of The Larry Sanders Show in which your character, Paula the talent booker, wants to leave the room when Larry tries to get Artie to ask Marg Helgenberger out for him. What other things are so infuriating that they make a woman want to leave the room?

Garofalo: When you hear network notes like, "You know, she really looks heavy." Especially with comedy. Physical attributes have nothing to do with being funny. I also hate, "Can you get the makeup artist to redo her?" In 1990 I did a Young Comedians special in Phoenix. They had to confer with the director because my face looked so full. They would never do that for a guy comic, but with me they're like, "Could you shade or contour her because her face is really, really full. She looks really chunky." Argghhh, that made me so angry. That will make me leave the room, and it will make me not change a thing. Not only won't I do more with makeup, I'll do less. That's begging me to go the other way, to be like Brando and stuff cotton in my cheeks.

18.

Playboy: Garry Shandling once said you were funnier, had a better career and were more feminine than he. Would you care to argue?

Garofalo: Yes. I'm not funnier, I don't have a better career and I'm not more feminine. Still, I idolize him. He doesn't idolize me. Therein lies the difference.

19.

Playboy: How many times must you have sex before a guy stays over?

Garofalo: Oh God. It has to be a few times. It's not just the number of times you have sex, but the quality of time spent together. You have to find that you really enjoy just hanging out, that it's fun. In theory it would also be a good thing to know that before you have sex--that's probably the wiser thing--but of course it doesn't always happen that way. You'd think it would be more intimate to have sex than to stay over, but for me it's far more intimate to wake up naked in the morning with someone and converse with him in the bed than to have sex with him at night, in the dark, after a few drinks. When I suggest that a guy leave, I've heard, "No." I've had a couple of people say, "No, I don't want to." I don't relent. The more they protest, the more they have to go. And even if they want to go--this is human nature--even if someone is thinking he would like to leave, as soon as you suggest it, he wants to stay. It's push-me pull-you in relationships. If you kind of don't like someone, he really likes you, and vice versa. People don't seem to be able to handle feeling the same thing at the same time. On the rare occasions when that has happened, I haven't been able to sustain the relationship longer than two years. Somehow I will create a situation where we need to break up. That's the way it works. It's like Chekhov.

20.

Playboy: Where do we go when we die?

Garofalo: I'm going to the Stair Master ring of Dante's Inferno, because I hate the damn machine so much. I do it on manual, so I can control it. But I don't put my hands on the rails, so I can keep a good flow going. That way it's two annoying workouts in one.

the actress sounds off on underwear, the hootification of america and the quest for the perfect latte

It's far more intimate to wake up naked in the morning with someone than to have sex with him at night