20 Questions: Chris Farley

Next to cheese, Chris Farley is Wisconsin's most-celebrated product. Already a big-screen presence at 33, the formidable actor is one of the few ''Saturday Night Live'' veterans to make a successful transition to movies. After smaller roles in ''Cone-heads'' and both ''Wayne's World''s, Farley joined ''SNL'' alumnus and pal David Spade to top-line the hits ''Tommy Boy'' and ''Black Sheep.'' Then with another ''SNL'' alum, Chris Rock, helping out, Farley battled his way to big box office in the title role of ''Beverly Hills Ninja.'' Next he'll co-star with Matthew Perry in ''Edwards and Hunt,'' a period piece in which they play explorers in the Lewis and Clark tradition. After three outings as the fat guy who falls down, Farley calls his role as Bartholomew Hunt edgier and something of a stretch. ''Plus, I get to wear a lot of buckskin,'' he says. We asked Contributing Editor David Rensin to talk with Farley in Los Angeles. Says Rensin, ''We met in his hotel room. He was an attentive host, ordering fruit plates and bottled water from room service. Farley's self-deprecation verges on self-flagellation. The guy is a big softy who wants to feel good about himself. You just want to put your arms around him. But, of course, you can't.''

1.

Playboy: You and David Spade were presenters at this year's Oscars. Explain the difference between performing live for 20 million people a week and doing it in front of 1 billion people in one night.

Farley: I may as well tell you now, I'm not real good with math. What felt strange was the audience in front of us. I was real conscious of our being a couple of comics, trying to entertain serious actors. I guess I felt a little inferior. Then I saw Jim Carrey in the crowd and that made me feel at home, because nobody's bigger than Jim Carrey, and he was laughing at us. Later, I talked with him and he was very supportive. He's the king. His movies make $150 million and a lot of people happy. Our movies make a buck-fifty. So I figured if he liked us, it was OK.

2.

Playboy: Speaking of Jim Carrey, you were slated to be the original Cable Guy until he took over the job. Is that turn of events a happy or sad thought now?

Farley: I love Jim. He did a wonderful job. I dug that scene when he said ''clitoris'' to the guy's mother. The script seemed tailor-made for him, and that's because he worked on it with his writers and the director and made it his own. In fact, I want to talk with Jim about how I can do that more in my films.

My version of The Cable Guy was a bit different, not quite as dark, and I would have kept it that way--which isn't saying I have a problem with the choices Jim made. I just would have gone with more of the butt-crack showing, more of a pathetic approach than the menacing, diabolical approach. By the way, I was in the middle of a two-picture deal with Paramount when I got The Cable Guy. I'd done Tommy Boy and thought I could do a picture at another studio, and then go back and finish my deal. But Paramount said, ''No. You're making Black Sheep when we tell you to make it.'' So I had to pass on The Cable Guy.

3.

Playboy: In your new film, Edwards and Hunt, you and Matthew Perry play Lewis and Clark-like explorers. How did you prepare for the role? What did you wear underneath the buckskin?

Farley: Lewis and Clark endured horrible conditions, portaging huge canoes over tough mountain terrain in freezing weather. Meanwhile, we were just a bunch of wussy actors on the set, going, ''Is there any more Evian?'' Our biggest problem was the heat. Wearing buckskin isn't that bad unless it's real hot. Then you sweat a lot and stain the leather. Also, as soon as you put it on, buckskin chafes like you've played 18 holes of golf in it. God knows what they wore underneath it in the old days, but I wore regular underwear and a shirt under the vest.

4.

Playboy: When does an Indian change his loincloth?

Farley: When it starts sticking to the tea bag.

5.

Playboy: What genetic markers do you share with Bartholomew Hunt?

Farley: Hunt is bohemian. Leslie Edwards is like Meriwether Lewis--a more sophisticated, English-type guy. In one scene I pick up buffalo dung and smell it, and I go, ''Um, buffalo is near.'' And then Matt Perry says, ''Good God, man. Can you tell that just by smelling its droppings?'' And I say, ''No, I can see him right over there.'' Then I point at the buffalo.

Hunt and I are both a little rough around the edges. Bringing him into polite society is like bringing a bull into a china shop. He wears his emotions on his sleeve. When he speaks you know what's really on his mind because he has no editing process. I can definitely relate to that. Thoughts go directly from my brain to my mouth.

6.

Playboy: Compose a valentine on the spot for David Spade.

Farley: [Pauses] ''David Spade . . . is witty and fun, but if you piss him off you'd better run.''

7.

Playboy: In both Tommy Boy and Black Sheep, Spade's character takes care of your character. How have you taken care of him in real life?

Farley: One time we were in a bar and he was getting picked on by a big guy, and I pushed the guy away and said, ''You fuck with him and you're dead.'' The guy was a star--I wish I could tell you his name. I probably shouldn't even tell the story, but I don't care. The guy was messing with my little buddy and hitting on Spade's girl. He left with his tail between his legs. And Spade said, ''Thank you for that.''

8.

Playboy: At Saturday Night Live you shared an office with Spade, Chris Rock and Adam Sandler. What personal items did each of you have that the others weren't allowed to mess with?

Farley: Sandler and I were pigs. Rock and Spade were clean. We were Oscar, they were Felix. It was like they put the four of us in the back of the cage, together, where we could be watched.

I didn't let anyone touch my necklace of human ears. Brando gave it to me; it was a souvenir from Apocalypse Now. [Laughs] (continued on page 160)Chris Farley (continued from page 127) Just kidding. Oh, God, should I have said that? [To himself] OK. OK. It's OK. Actually, I had a desk set with a name-plate that my parents got me for Christmas. It said Chris Farley, Saturday Night Live. It was kind of stupid. The other guys would make fun of me and I had to stand up for the family and say, ''Shut up, man, it's cool.''

Rock had his Eddie Murphy Beverly Hills Cop poster no one could touch. He was proud of that.

Sandler's thing was his guitar. It was by his desk, which, like mine, was always messy, covered with papers, magazines and fan mail. We liked to read the fan mail and call the people who wrote it.

Spade's prized possession was his bulletin board. I don't know where he got it. He was so on top of everything that he probably knew just when they were handing them out. ''Bulletin board pickup, Thursday at noon? I'll be there.'' He's really smart. The bulletin board was covered with pictures of all his buddies from Arizona, and various gals. We used to make fun of it.

9.

Playboy: Do you ever ask for their sartorial advice?

Farley: I can't buy off the rack. I'am over at the big-and-tall shop, Ed's House of Wide and Wider. Chris Rock is always trying to get me to dress cooler. He says, ''Heavy D gets chicks, Farley. Be like Heavy D and dress cool.'' So he took me to Barneys one time. It helped. I feel more confident when I talk to gals if I'm in a good suit. But it still feels strange. I'm not used to the kinds of gals who are interested in me now. In high school I dated gals who looked like me in a wig. Do you know what I'm talking about? They were pretty heavyset gals out of Wisconsin, where they have lots of dairy products.

10.

Playboy: Even though you live in Chicago, you're often in New York and Los Angeles. What are some of your favorite East Coast and West Coast girl-watching spots?

Farley: In Los Angeles, go to the pool at the Four Seasons and you won't be disappointed. The girls aren't too shabby. You can throw a chub on a ten-pound Windsor test line and you'll be catching crappie all day. Are we talking about fishing? I like to go there in my thong Speedo and do push-ups. I also like the Sky Bar at the Mondrian Hotel. And the Whiskey Bar at the Sunset Marquis. Otherwise, I submit to my buddies Sandler and Spade, who live there. They always know the coolest places.

In New York, I like to walk around the Village. It's really cool, because you get the arty bohemian girls with hair under their arms. I don't mind that French look. I like the jungle. Some of my friends like girls who shave, but, goddamn, I like it the way God made it. I don't care if they have hair up to the belly button. I like that.

11.

Playboy: As a big man, tell us when you started putting your belt below your stomach as opposed to around your stomach?

Farley: I always have it at the Sergeant Malcolm-Highway Patrol level, which is below the gut. You know, I have Dunlap's disease: My belly done lap over my belt. I don't know why I think that's better, because my mom always tells me to have it up around my waist. She says, ''It makes you look slimmer.'' I think it makes me look like I'm 50 years old. ''Kids, get off the goddamn swing!'' I've been big all my life. I've always worn my pants down low. It's a comfort thing. I think if I pull them up to my stomach line it will be an act of surrender. I don't want to get content being this way. In the back of my mind I still think I'm going to lose the weight.

12.

Playboy: What stands in the way of that dream?

Farley: A goddamn hot fudge sundae! I'm a sprinter, not a long-distance runner. I seem to get motivated a few months at a time and then something stressful breaks the routine and I just fold and I'm off to the races. It's really hard for me to get back on track again. I lose the weight and gain it back. My motivation used to be getting a gal, but I don't think that's such a problem anymore. But I do want to lose it because there's a point at which it starts to hinder my physical abilities. That's where Gleason always drew the line. When he couldn't do the cartwheels or the falls the way he wanted to--at around 280--he'd cut down.

13.

Playboy: If it's not too painful, can you recall a memorable pig-out?

Farley: I was in the Pritikin Center in Santa Monica once, trying to lose 30 or 40 pounds in a month. I'd work my ass off on the treadmill and with the weights, but it was driving me nuts. So I escaped. Tom Arnold picked me up and we went to Le Dôme and had tons of desserts. Along with Roseanne, we used to do that a lot. We would polish off 20 desserts. Ice cream, cake, everything. But when I got back to Pritikin, I got busted. They gave me a test, like a Breathalyzer for sugar. I was sugared up.

14.

Playboy: You once said that though you signed on as the clown, you didn't want to do it forever. How would you like to sign out?

Farley: What I said was probably more applicable earlier in my career. Then, when I started making movies and more money, I felt I had to make people laugh in order for them to like me and for the film to be a blockbuster. So now and then I'd like to try something different that has more heart and soul. I love how Jackie Gleason did that ''Baby, you're the greatest'' at the end of The Honeymooners. But I'll always do the clown. I'm secure with it. People work their asses off and they need a time to laugh. It's up to us to bonk ourselves on the head and slip on a banana peel so the average guy can say, ''Good God. I may be bad, honey, but I'm not as much of an idiot as that guy on the screen.''

15.

Playboy: Do you have any clown paintings in your house? Anything on velvet?

Farley: Yeah, I do. How did you know that? I had a girlfriend who hated them because they scared her. I thought, God dang it, why? I love my clown paintings. I also loved her, and it hurt a lot when she dumped me. Anyway, they were gifts from my parents. I love the clowns. My dad told me that Bob Hope has a room full of clowns: paintings, statues and figurines. So I started a little collection. The paintings--in which the clown is sort of an Emmett Kelly type with a hobo hat--are golf-therned. I also have some Tiffany figurines--sterling silver clowns on huge balls, balancing. Also, a couple statues, a harlequin and other characters from the commedia dell'arte.

16.

Playboy: Do you have outdoor and camping skills?

Farley: I was in Boy Scout Troop Five and went to summer camp in northern Wisconsin. We'd take long canoe trips. They were great. But I got kicked out for stuff like mooning. There was a lot of mooning going on. I also cut the ropes on a ropes course once and lots of Scouts fell into the mud. And then there were the fires. . . . [Pauses] I would take any dare. I was known for that throughout high school. Once someone dared me to grab a fire extinguisher and spray it all over study hall. I sprayed everyone in study hall, plus the windows and the nun. But I got out of it because a lot of the nuns were so senile you could bamboozle them with any type of excuse. I said, ''Sister, I saw smoke. I swear I wanted to help out.'' And she believed me. The biggest dare was to run nude through the halls. My friend O'Garra put me up to it. I got to the end of the hall and then started to run back and ran smack-dab into a nun and knocked her over. She freaked out and I got kicked out for a semester and had to go to boarding school in Indiana. Couldn't talk my way out of that one.

Looking back, it all seems like good clean fun. If I saw a little rodent today doing that, I'd laugh my ass off. I'd say, ''Hey, Timmy, good job, kid. It was funny. But you know, let's not do that anymore.'' I wouldn't yell and scream and beat him. I wouldn't kick him out of the club. The kid's just having fun, so what the fuck? I love kids. They're hilarious. When I was a camp counselor I let my cabin get away with murder. That's what, camp's for--having fun.

17.

Playboy: You always seem to be throwing your body in harm's way. How did you train for the rigors of Beverly Hills Ninja?

Farley: I went to the Championship Martial Arts Academy in Chicago for three months, and Master Guo taught me wu shu, a method that uses both hand-to-hand combat and weapons: the three-section staff, broadswords, nunchaku and chain. The master loved when Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan use household appliances as weapons in martial arts movies. Like a phone cord and handset. You could swing it around and nail somebody. Sometimes we'd fool around with broomsticks and curtain rods. I love throwing stuff--a toaster, say--and when your opponent tries to catch it, he's off-guard and you nail him. Boom! I'm still good at cartwheels, the staff and the swords.

18.

Playboy: Describe a bad hair day.

Farley: I don't concern myself too much with what my hair looks like. Most of the time I just wake up and whatever it is, it is. This is probably not a good habit. You can say I'm just content being myself, but it would probably be better if I made an effort to groom. I guess I don't try because I know who I am and it's not that appealing, so why try to groom and be a stud? But that's a bad attitude and I'm changing it.

19.

Playboy: Did you ever want to tell critics of Saturday Night Live to shut up?

Farley: Yeah. We went out there and did an hour-and-a-half show every week and worked our asses off. And yet we were just trying to make people laugh, not do brain surgery. I've still got sores on my back and aches in my body from going out a window or falling down steps or landing on a coffee table. I dislocated my shoulder. I broke my leg. And these critics would sit there on their goddamn couches, saying, ''Thumbs-down,'' like fucking Augustus Caesar. Hey, fuck you. Let's see you guys try to make 20 million people a week laugh from a live comedy stage, 20 weeks a year.

20.

Playboy: What were you always warned about life in show business that you discovered was absolutely right?

Farley: I used to think that you could get to a level of success where the laws of the universe didn't apply. But they do. It's still life on life's terms, not on movie-star terms. I still have to work at relationships. I still have to work on my weight and some of my other demons. Once I thought that if I just had enough in the bank, if I had enough fame, that it would be all right. But I'm a human being like everyone else. I'm not exempt.

I wonder if the Horny sisters are home" I'll take a peek

Well, well. They have a dildo stuck in a knot hole in the floor and they're using it!

If I crawl under the floor I think I acan replace it with the real thing!

This is even better than I expected!

Oh lord, it's parson Jones at the door!

Quick zelda! Kick the Dildo under the bed!

the heavy-weight comic contender on wearing buckskin, defending your friends and the perfect pig-out