DISGRACELAND - Chris Farley: Raging Bulls, Insatiable Appetites, Dead Comics, and a Four-Day Plunge off the Edge

Episode Date: December 24, 2024

Everything about Chris Farley was larger than life. His comedy, his laughs, the risks he took in front of a live studio audience – they were all bigger than anyone else's. So were his appetites. Not just for performance, but for life. He plowed through a plate glass window, 15 stories above downtown Chicago. He was kicked out of college for burning down a girl's house. He disappeared with two Playboy models in Los Angeles and woke up the next morning in Hawaii. He modeled his career on an iconic dead comedian – even following the comic's path, straight to an early grave.Who are your favorite Saturday Night Live cast members? Which cast was your favorite? Let Jake know at 617-906-6638, [e-mail], or on socials @disgracelandpod.To listen to Disgraceland ad free and get access to a monthly exclusive episode, weekly bonus content and more, become a Disgraceland All Access member at disgracelandpod.com/membership.Sign up for our newsletter and get the inside dirt on events, merch and other awesomeness - GET THE NEWSLETTERFollow Jake and DISGRACELAND:InstagramYouTubeX (formerly Twitter) Facebook Fan GroupTikTok To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoicesSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is exactly right. Double Elvis. When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist, they take matters into their own hands. I vowed. I will be his last target. He is not going to get away with this. He's going to get what he deserves. We always say that trust your girlfriends. Listen to the girlfriends.

Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When like young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. My first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in. Do that.

David O'Yellowo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Dennis Leary, Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things, Tana Monsu, Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,

or wherever you get your podcasts. Movies can make you feel, make you dream. Sometimes they even make you appreciate architecture. Is there anybody who's been hotter in a doorway than Elizabeth Taylor? That's the kind of analysis you'll find every week on Dear Movies I Love You, the new podcast from the Exactly Right Network. Every Tuesday, we break down the films we're crushing on, from blockbusters to deep cuts. Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

This episode contains content that may be disturbing to some listeners. Please check the show notes for more information. Disgrace, and is a production of Double Elvis. This is the story of a larger-than-life community. comedian, of wild behavior by that larger-than-life comedian. It's about a torched home, a binge with Playboy bunnies, lots of drugs. It's a story about Chris Farley, and his hell-bent desire to burn as hard as his hero, John Belushi. Two comedians who behaved more like rock stars.

Rock stars, who, of course, would have made great music. Unlike that music I played for you at the top of the show, that wasn't great music. That was a preset loop from my Melotron called Dead Before Christmas, MK.1. I played you that loop because I can't afford the rights to Candle in the Wind by Elton John. And why would I play you that specific slice of recycled tribute cheese could I afford it? Because that was the number one song in America on December 18th, 1997. And that was the day one of the greatest comics we've ever seen, Chris Farley, died at just the age of 33. On this episode, Torched Homes, binging with Playboy bunnies, burning out like Belushi,

and one of the greatest to ever do it, Chris Farley. I'm Jake Brennan. and this is disgrace land. Chris Farley lined up at the 14-yard line at Chicago's Soldier Field. His castmates stood watching, along with 61,000 screaming Bears fans. It was freezing. December doesn't fuck around in Chicago. But Farley was sweating in just his flannel shirt and his bear starter jacket.

The walrus mustache plastered to his upper lip for the pregame show was beginning to peel off. in his aviator's sunglasses had fogged up. The center waited for Farley to give the signal to snap the ball, but Farley wasn't ready. He had to come up with the bit first. Chris Farley was at the game in character as one of the super fans, a Saturday night live sketch about a Chicago sports show that was a huge hit in the Windy City.

Such a huge hit that Farley and the others have been invited to do a pregame and halftime commentary for an actual Bears game in character. They were emceeing the half-time. halftime point-after kick contest, along with the bear's regular announcer, when the announcer turned to Farley and said, hey, why don't you give it a try? Farley's background was an improv, a comedy world where you didn't say no. You said yes and. That's what the improv gurus taught you. Yes, and. Before the other guys could respond, Farley said they were in. Down on the field,

Farley, beer in hand, finally gave the signal. The center snapped the ball. Farley barreled forward a massive momentum. As he approached the ball, he tripped, landed flat on his face, his body kept going. He slid across the frost-slic turf, his beer spilled, his aviators hung onto his nose for dear life, and the crowd at Soldier Field lost their shit. Farley's castmates realized they'd fucked up when they let him go first. You didn't want to follow Chris Farley. You didn't want to follow Chris Farley on stage, and you sure shit didn't want to follow Chris Farley to a second bar, or a third or God help you, to an after party. The first hour of drinking with Chris Farley was fun,

and the second hour was the best hour of your life, and the rest of the night was pure hell. Farley hoisted beers at the game, and the superfans went out to dinner afterwards, where Farley packed away food and tossed back liquor. He begged the guys to hit another bar. Instead, they got in a cat with him and drove him back to his hotel, and they walked him up to his room, told him to sleep it off.

Tomorrow they were flying back to New York. Tomorrow was the start of another week at SNL. And they figured that was the end of Farley's night. But Chris Farley had plenty of other friends in Chicago. Friends from his days with the Second City Comedy Troop. He got a hold of another improv event and convinced her to meet him out at her bar nearby. She didn't know what kind of mileage Farley had put in that night, but she clocked it quick. It wasn't long before she took Farley back to his hotel for the second time that night and tried to put him to bed.

She didn't want to leave him alone, but she didn't want to stick around. around either. Chris Farley ripped into the mini-bar. Nips of liquor went down his throat like Godzilla snacking on fleeing civilians. And his friend suggested he slowed down, but when she looked at Farley, she didn't see the affable goofball who was the darling of Second City and SNL audiences. She saw an animal, couldn't get enough booze, enough food, enough sex. Chris Farley put his head down like a raging bull and charged at her with all the speed and momentum he put into running at the football at Soldier Field. But this was no bit.

She jumped out of the way as Farley kept going. His legs smacked into a waist-high radiator in front of a picture window that stretched up to the hotel room ceiling. His upper body kept going, crashing straight through the plate glass window. Farley hung there like a rag doll, dangling over a 15-story drop. Blood and broken glass was everywhere. His friend stood there in shock. Farley teeted on the radiator before pushing himself back into the room.

He looked around, dazed. His shirt was drenched in blood. His arms sliced open from shoulder to wrist. His friend screamed. Farley apologized. Even if he was too drunk to know what he was apologizing for. His friend rang front desk, calling ambulance. Then she threw her arms around Farley

and struggled to get him down to the lobby where she assumed help would be waiting. But it wasn't. No one had called anyone. No one had done anything. And with Farley hanging on her shoulder, she struggled to make her way outside and held a cab. Northwestern Hospital, Emergency Room.

A cabby could live his whole life waiting for the moment he gets to be the hero. And this driver stepped up. He swerved and sped through Chicago streets like he was driving a getaway car with hell on his tail. A block from the hospital, faced with a one-way going the wrong way, the cabby said, fuck it. He shot through and skidded up next to the curb in front of the emergency room. They rushed farly upstairs. He was still drunk, drunk enough to lift the flap of skin on his arm and peer into the gash. But once they had him settled,

And Ordley came by to check on him. He recognized Farley right away. Shit, isn't that the guy from Saturday Night Live? It was, Farley's friend confirmed. And you got to keep it quiet. Absolutely, said the orderly. And he did. Because in Chicago, people looked out for Chris Farley.

Word of the incident never made it back to New York, or to Lorne Michaels, Farley's boss. But it put a scare under Chris Farley. A scare big enough that he kept clean for the weeks that followed. When the crew at Saturday Night Live began to put together their annual Christmas episode, Farley was still clean, and his Chicago secret was still safe. He pitched a sketch at the writer's meeting, which was rare. Farley was more of a performer.

People wrote for him. Everyone liked the sketch, but Farley was convinced it would flop. All anyone wandered from him was to see the fat guy fall down, and he sulked through the rest of the meeting. And when they took a break, Farley walked out of 30 Rock, Hailed a cab and trekked up the hell's kitchen to score some heroin. The new guys at SNL that year, Chris Farley, Adam Sandler, Chris Rock, and David Spade didn't get their own offices. They were paired off.

Spade found the drugs in Farley's desk, little bags of white powder. Spade wasn't even much of a drinker. He didn't know what the bags were, but he knew it was shit there shouldn't be in the office. He called Farley out. Farley was high. I'll dare that snarky little pipsquee telling what to do. He told Spade to get the fuck out of their office. Spade thought Sandler could talk Farley down, but Samner got the same reaction.

They didn't have a choice, and they had to go tell the boss. Lauren Michaels was torn up. He loved Chris Farley. Everybody loved Chris Farley, but Michaels was the one who discovered him on a stage in Chicago and brought her to New York. Just like Spade and Sandler, Lorne Michaels didn't have any choice. They were going to have to fire him. After all, he'd already done the fat guy in the bodyback routine once,

and he wasn't going to do that ever again. There's two golden rules that any man should live by. Rule one, never mess with a country girl. You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes. And rule two, never mess with her friends either. We always say that, trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends... Oh my God, this is the same man.

A group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist. I felt like I got hit by a truce. I thought, how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care. So they take matters into their own hands. I said, oh, hell no. I vowed, I will be his last target. He's going to get what he deserves.

Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcast. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. And my first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do?

Rather be disappointed in. Do that. Dennis Leary. I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head with a water bomb. And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance. Like he's about to attack me. Like, making karate noises. And his entire the Kardashian family over there, everybody's going.

And the airmanian family over there, everybody's going. is trying to grab my arms and screaming. I immediately know that I've been at sleepwalking. David O'Yellowo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the guts. Guy Branham. So anyway, Nicole Kidman broke up with Keith Thurban.

Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear, not like a life she was going to lead. Oh, interesting. I like that. Did you practice that on your way over? Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things. Tana Monsu. Camilla Marone,

Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Remember when you'd walk into your local video rental place and there were always those two employees behind the counter arguing about movies? Well, that's us.

I'm Millie de Cherico. And I'm Casey O'Brien. And now we're arguing about movies on our podcast, Dear Movies I Love You, from the Exactly Right Network. Can I say something about the criterion closet? Go ahead, dude. They're letting too many people in there. Okay, that's another film, grape I got two. Sadly, that rental place doesn't exist anymore.

It's probably a store that sells running shoes. Or an ice cream shop with an extra pee and an E at the end. So consider us your slacker movie clerks in podcast form. I would like to establish a timeline of the moment you have. figured out who Channing Tatum was. Every Tuesday, we dig into the movies we can't stop obsessing over, from hidden gems to big screen favorites. New episodes drop every week on the exactly right network.

Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Chris Farley had two approaches when it came to girls. One was the aw shucks routine where he scuffed his shoe on the ground and said, gee, you sure are pretty until the girls decided. he was a sweet teddy bear they wanted to take home. The other approach was to make them laugh. But Chris Farley didn't always know where the line was.

So when he had a crush on a girl down the block from his house at Marquette University, he decided a prank was the way into her heart. Farley's house was a scene out of Animal House. It was infested with rats. It reeked of stale beer. Farley's room was disgusting even by the standards of the rest of the place. If you saw a rat outside Farley's room, it was probably on its way to Farley's room.

His housemates put him by the bathroom, knowing sometimes Farley was too lazy to leave his room to take a piss. Even proximity to the John didn't do the trick. Farley pissed in jars and abdied them when he was feeling up to it. But anyway, that crushed on the block. She'd been to parties at Farley's house, and she wasn't impressed. When the shy guy bit didn't pan out,

Farley decided to get her attention with a joke. Specifically, a cherry ball left on the window sill of the house, where she and her friends lived. If you know anything about cherry bombs, which Farley apparently didn't, you know they don't just smoke. They spit sparks, and the sparks make the cherry bombs spin, spin right off the window sill, onto the couch, which caught fire and took half the house along with it. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but Farley freaked the fuck out.

He fled Wisconsin, skipping out for Illinois until the cops agreed to let him off with a charge of dangerous use of firearms and a light fine. But the incident meant Chris Farley couldn't. graduate. It didn't tear him up too bad, though. In addition to not being much of a ladiesman, Farley was less than an all-star student. His friend said there was only one book he ever finished at college, Wired by Bob Woodward, the tawdry biography of comedian John Belushi. Farley's inability to know where the lines were would dog him his whole life, or whether it was booze or drugs or women, in his first season on Saturday Night Live, working the teddy bear angle got him

accused of groping an extra in a sketch. It was handled in house and Farley apologized profusely. He was famous for his apologies. The writers at SNL started referring to the groping as Farley's Fatty Arbuckle Incident, a reference to the portly silent film comedian whose career was derailed by an arrest for a depraved manslaughter. Arbuckle was acquitted, but the studios wouldn't touch him for years afterward. The writers got Farley amped up about the incident, convincing him he was going to get served in a civil suit any day. If a stranger came up to him on the streets, it was probably a process server and he should take off running. They even dummied up a fake subpoena and got one of the Seinfeld writers to chase Farley down with it out front of 30 Rock.

Farley was so upset that the writers couldn't bring themselves to tell them to truth for months, and when they did, they asked what he did with the fake subpoena. Crying, Farley said he burned him. None of the writers ever brought up the Fatty Arbuckle incident again. After the dishonorable discharge from college, Chris Farley moved home to Madison. in Wisconsin. He worked for his dad in sales and frequented local improv shows. One night, he got drunk enough to go up to the troops director. And barely able to stand, he mumbled that he wanted to audition. And the director told Farley to come to the rehearsal the next day to try out. Farley

showed up with a case of beer, but he was good when he was clean. And he kept clean for shows. After shows, though, not so much. Like when the director was giving him notes on his performance after a show, but stopped midway when he realized Farley was guzzling and in entire bottle of rum while they talked. Farley was with the troop in Madison for a year before he started disappearing on trips to Chicago. Everyone knew what was up. Farley was ditching them to hang out at Second City, the legendary improv troupe that had launched the careers of Bill Murray, John Candy, Dan Aykroyd, and of course, John Belushi. Farley eventually got a spot on Second City's farm team, where he was an instant favorite. It wasn't long before he joined Second City's main company.

Most people think of Chris Farley as the fat guy taking a fall, and he could take a fall like nobody else. Chevy Chase, a legendary Pratt Fall guy in his day, asked Farley what he used to break his falls. Farley's answer was shocking. He didn't use anything. He just crashed. Any comedian will tell you Chris Farley was a master of physical comedy. He was big, but he was mostly muscle. He'd been a football player and a competitive swimmer. His size hid amazing physical dexterity. At a Chicago bar with the Second City cast, he chatted up some girls, asking where they worked. And when they asked what Farley did, he said he was an aerobics instructor. And the girls laughed at him.

Surely he was kidding. Farley shrugged. It wasn't the first time girls had laughed at him. He launched into a perfect backflip sticking the landing. Yeah, you know, aerobics instructor. Behind him, his castmates were rolling. Farley loved Second City. He loved Chicago, close enough to home, but a bigger pond.

And he loved the idea that he was walking in the footsteps of his idol. Farley even found a pair of John Belushi's old boots in the Second City Theater and wore them nonstop for two years until I fell apart. Second City gave him the chance to work with Del Close, a legendary improv director and one of Belushi's mentors. Close had a simple mantra when it came to comedy. Try to kill the audience. Fucking kill them. I want you to make them laugh so hard that they vomit and choke on it. As Farley rose through the ranks at Second City, he kept his appetites under control.

On the rare occasions he showed up for a performance drunk, his castmates gave him hell. Farley would come back the next day with those sad eyes and apologize and all would be forgiven. After the shows, though, the breaks were off. He threw chairs around at an after party in a drunken rage. He picked up an entire couch and chucked it across the room. And there was no talking to him, no calming him down when he got like this. And you stayed the fuck out of the way and waited for the switch to flip back. The Farley finally stopped.

He held a chair over his head. He looked around the wreckage he created. Then he looked over at his friend, Bob Odenkirk, a fellow second city cast member with those sad, apologetic eyes. Odie, he said, do you think Belushi's in heaven? We'll be right back after this world, word, word. There's two golden rules that any man should live by.

Rule one, never mess with a country girl. You play stupid games, you get stupid prizes. And rule two, never mess with her friends either. We always say that trust your girlfriends. I'm Anna Sinfield, and in this new season of the girlfriends, Oh my God, this is the same man. A group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist. I felt like I got hit by a truck.

I thought, how could this happen to me? The cops didn't seem to care, so they take matters into their own hands. I said, oh, hell no. I vowed I will be his last target. He's going to get what he deserves. Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe. On the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts,

or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea, with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When, like, young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. My first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in.

Do that. Dennis Leary. I wake up and I'm hitting him in the head. with a water bomb. And Bruce Jenner is on the aisle in a karate stance, like he's about to attack me, like, making karate noises. And his entire the Kardashian family over there,

everybody's going, and the air marshal is trying to grab my arms and screaming. And I immediately know that I've been a sleepwalk. David O'Yello. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships, or religion, or sex, or addiction, or you just go straight for the guts.

Guy Branham. So anyway, Nicole Kidman broke up with Keith Thurban. Being half of a country couple was always a hat she was going to wear, not like a life she was going to lead. Oh, interesting. I like that. Did you practice that on your way over? Gaten Matarazzo from Stranger Things. Tseana Monsu. Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your Podcasts. Remember when you'd walk into your local video rental place and there were always those two employees behind the counter arguing about movies? Well, that's us.

I'm Millie de Cherico. And I'm Casey O'Brien. And now we're arguing about movies on our podcast, Dear Movies I Love You, from the Exactly Right Network. Can I say something about the criterion closet? Go ahead, dude. They're letting too many people in there. Okay.

That's another film grape I got two. Sadly, that rental place doesn't exist anymore. It's probably a store that sells running shoes. Or an ice cream shop with an extra pee and an E at the end. So consider us your slacker movie clerks in podcast form. I would like to establish a timeline of the moment you figured out who Channing Tatum was. Every Tuesday, we dig into the movies we can't stop obsessing over, from hidden gems to big screen favorites. New episodes drop every week on the exactly right network.

Listen to your movies I love you on the IHeart Radio app. Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Chris Farley had been in New York for two days, and he hadn't bothered to call his brother. This was a bad sign. Farley knew which people cared about him in New York, and he also knew which people would let him get away with shit. The hangers on and the so-called friends.

So to his brother, if he hadn't called, it meant that Farley was hanging out with people who wanted to see him feed his appetites. So Farley's brother showed up at the hotel, and Farley looked happy to see him. He apologized for not calling sooner. There was a limo waiting, and they were on their way to 30 Rock. They just had to make one stop.

In the limo, Farley introduced his brother to the kid, NBC, had assigned to keep him on the straight and narrow. From the frazzled look on the kid's face and the manic energy coming on Farley, it clearly wasn't working. Farley told the driver to take them to 110th Street, a piece of Harlem real estate so notorious for drugs and prostitution, they wrote a fucking song about it. And the NBC guy protested, but the driver wasn't taking orders from,

some kid. At the address, drugs and women beckoned from every corner. Farley got out of the car. This would just take a minute. He disappeared into one of the buildings. 20 minutes later, he emerged. His eyes wide and his gaze sky high, a woman on each arm. The NBC kid opened the door for them and they squeezed into the limo between Farley and his brother.

The NBC kid sputtered as the driver took them to 30 Rock. Farley left the women in the lobby with his brother while he schmoozed with the younger S&L cast members. Farley was a hero to them. They treated him no differently than the fans and hangers-on who encouraged Farley to come out for a beer, come upstairs and blow a line and come to the after-party. It got so bad, the show's producer called a meeting.

If anyone helped Farley, if any of you helped Farley get drinks or liquor or anything, you were going to be a part of helping him die. That was the message. Farley's brother gave up trying to make small talk with the women. He bailed. And the next day, Wednesday, he showed up at Farley's hotel to stage an intervention. Farrley refused to come down and see him. He put a do-not-disturb order on his phone.

Chris Farley didn't know it then, but he would never see his brother again. Up in Studio 8-H, Lauren Michaels was busy trying to save Chris Farley's life. That was the idea when he invited Farley back to host Saturday Night Live. It was 1997. After the box office success of his buddy comedy Tommy Boy, Farley left SNL to pursue his film career. But his most recent two films, Black Sheet and Beverly Hills Ninja, tanked at the box office. His struggles with drugs and alcohol were all over the press.

SNL was one of the few things Farley cared about. When Michaels temporarily fired Farley from the show years earlier for using heroin, it served as a wake-up call. Farley got clean, stayed clean, it was back on the show after a few months. But now, Michael's was watching Farley fall apart all over again. He was sure he could bring him back from the brink. If he gave him a hosting slot, Farley would clean up. Chris Farley wouldn't dare fuck up an episode of Saturday night live.

It meant too much to him. By Thursday that week, just two days before the show went live, there were calls to fire Chris Farley from the hosting gig. It was too late to turn back now. The scripts were written. The sets were built. The Lord Michaels refused. Farley would pull it out.

Michaels was sure of it. And if he didn't, the shock of seeing himself fuck up on live television would scare him back into rehab. Michaels was willing to tank an episode of SNL to save Chris Farley's life. But that didn't mean Lauren Michaels didn't call Chris Rock to fly in, to be on hand in case everything fell apart, which it did. In the opening sketch, Michael's Tim Meadows and Chevy Chase debated whether Farley was in any shape to host.

Cut to Farley passed out in a dressing room, drenched in flop sweat, his voice a weak croak. After an uncomfortable bit where he groped a younger cast member and eerie echo of his Saddy Arubuckle incident, Farley burst onto the stage. Only to find, they'd called in Chris Rock to host the show. Rock grinned and introduced his friend to wild applause. Rock stood by as Farley flooded his lines into a sad imitation of one of his old bits. The sketch was cut from reruns.

One of only a handful of SNL sketches erased after they aired live. The rest of the show didn't fare much better. Farley missed more lines. He seemed listless. After a sketch that required Farley to perform on an exercise bike, Norm MacDonald had a stretch-out weekend update way too long, begging the audience to laugh at a bomb joke. It helps Farley have a little rest, Norm smirked.

At the after party, Chris Farley sought out Lorne Michaels. I was funny tonight, wasn't I boss? Warren Michaels lied. Yes, you were. Like Michaels predicted, Farley got a wake-up call after the SNL debacle. He tried to keep his shit together. He was in and out of AA and over-eaters. anonymous. Food and booze were linked for him. If he slipped up and ate too much, he said fuck it

and fell off the wagon. He hired sobriety guards to just follow him around and make sure he didn't get drunk. But everywhere he went, people wanted to get drunk and high with him. They wanted the cartoon version of Chris Farley, but he couldn't be that guy anymore. Unless, somebody asked, really nice. Chris Farley was clean the day he ran into David Spade in a hotel restaurant in L.A. The two had a falling out a year earlier when Farley started dating a girl Spade liked. Farley was trying to mend fences. He said they should work together again. All anybody wanted from him was another Tommy boy.

Farley wanted more serious roles, but he also needed to work. Work was the only thing keeping him off the drugs and the booze. Spade was in a good mood. He couldn't stay mad at Farley. No one could. Farley sent a sobriety guard to the hall so he and Spade could talk in private. And the conversation didn't get far before a couple of women came over to the table. Not just any women. Playboy models, doing a shoot in the hotel. They asked Farley and Spade to come up

and party. And Spade said no. He'd never been a party guy. Not even when he was an SNL bad boy. Farley looked at Spade, eyes pleading. They both looked over to the hallway where the sobriety guard checked his watch. Go on, Spade told him, I can buy you a couple minutes. In a surprising burst of speed, Farley was out the door with the models, gone before his keeper noticed. The sobriety guard came back to the table. Where is he? Spade played dumb. I think he went to the bathroom. Which one? Spade shrugged. The sobriety guard glared at him. You fuck this. Spade knew the guy was right. He didn't know how right, because they couldn't find Chris Farley anywhere. He wasn't in the hotel. He was gone. The next day, he called his dad from Hawaii. He actually bought plane tickets for himself and the models and flew off to Paradise for a blacked-out binge that lasted days and cost him thousands. When he woke back up in Chicago, with no memory of where he'd been, Farley went into rehab, and then he broke out of rehab. He ended up in a Chicago psych ward, and when a friend came to see him, he was snorting lines of cocaine off a paper towel rack.

The orderlies had smuggled it in for him. They didn't give a shit about Farley's health. They wanted the Wild Man, the cartoon version. All anyone wanted from Chris Farley was to see the fat guy fall down. Nothing says B-List celebrity like appearing at a Planet Hollywood opening in Indianapolis on a Monday night. A tourist trap for movie buffs. The chain was launched in 1991 by Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Demi Moore, and Sylvester Stallone. But six years later, in 1997, the glitz and glamour were long gone.

Still, 10,000 people waited behind barricades on North Illinois Street, pressed up against one another in the heat, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hollywood's finest. And they were treated to a harmonica performance by Bruce Willis, aka Bruno, for all you fans of Bruce's short-lived Motown Records career. Free t-shirts handed out by aging rocker Stephen Stills and the very public explosion of Chris Farley. Farley was a hit at the celebrity pregame party, goofing around with Luke Perry and Stephen Baldwin,

mugging for the cameras in a bright red planet Hollywood racing jacket. But by the time you got to the actual opening, He'd been doing lines of coke and shots of his fellow celebs for hours. Sweating bullets and gacked to the gills, Farley tried his drunken best to give the crowd what he thought they wanted. He did pratfalls. He shouted till he was red in the face. And as the night wore on, the pratfalls became less scripted and more accidental.

The shouting lost its playful side. Explodives crept in along with that mean, violent edge. Farley got in the depths of a binge. The crowd was getting what they came for, but Farley's friends saw the things that not of control, and no one could pull him away. He was out a fucks to give. He brushed them all off with a line that was cornyer than the Hollywood memorabilia behind glass on the restaurant walls. I want to live fast and die young. The tabloids heard the whole thing. They painted a picture of a star on a suicidal binge, and that embarrassing performance hosting Saturday Night Live confirmed

it. But Farley wasn't exactly barreling down the field toward death. He had periods where he was clean, and he recorded lines for a new animated feature called Shrek. Yeah, that's right. Chris Farley was originally cast to be the voice of Shrek, long before Mike Myers came on board. The film's title, Oger, was even inspired by Farley, a monster tired of being typecast for the way he looked. And there was another project, too,

Farley's dream project. Earlier that year, he had a meeting with David Mamet, the legendary Chicago screenwriter and playwright. Mamet had an idea about a biopic of Fatty Arbuckle. He wrote the film's screenplay for Farley. It would be the dramatic role Farley had wanted ever since he left SNL. But the scene at Planet Hollywood and the SNL performance convinced studios that Farley was unhirable. He had only gotten the voice work on Shrek by agreeing to be constantly shadowed by a sobriety guard.

No one could get an insurance company to underwrite a movie with such an unreliable star. As 1997 wound down, Farley and the studio reached an agreement. It would make the Fatty Arbuckle film once Farley would be able to be. could prove he'd been sober for two years. Farley was ready to do it. This film meant everything to him. New Year's Day, he said, clean and sober. But first, he was entitled to one more binge. He came home to Chicago in mid-December and spent time with friends. He went to Mass, big Christmas cookies. He even went to an AA meeting. As the week went on, however, he missed plans with friends. On Sunday, December 14th, he was playing through his office.

audience in Chicago's bar scene. He did shots with Bears fans and frat boys who could quote Tommy Boy and Black Sheep until last call and wanted to keep partying with Farley all night. He was scheduled for a haircut with a friend, but he blew it off. Instead, he did more shots, tossed back beers, ate massive meals, and let strippers draped themselves all over him. His real friends called him up, begging him not to go out. Farley said, okay, he'd stay in that night, said he was done, said he'd see them soon, and he said he was sorry. He said he was sorry. Wednesday morning, after doing Coke all night in the financial district, Farley was set up with a sex worker named Heidi. They smoked crack and snorted heroin at her place all day. Then they

tried to go out to dinner. Heidi determined Farley was in no shape to eat in a restaurant. Anyway, who was hungry? Heidi and Farley went back to his place in the Hancock Center. The Hancock was once a swinging Chicago scene back in the 60s. Now Farley's neighbors were too old to care about a celebrity, barely interacted with him except a bang on the walls when his apartment got too rowdy. From the decor, Farley's place could have belonged to one of those formerly swinging senior citizens. Like Planet Hollywood, it was decked out in memorabilia. Chicago Bears' jersey, paintings of clowns, a picture of Farley and Paul McCartney from the former Beatles' appearance on SNL. Remember that? That was awesome. Farley hadn't slept in four days. He and Heidi

kept drinking, kept snorting heroin and cocaine. And they argued over the cost of what had become a 24-hour session, not to mention the cost of the drugs. Heidi got upset, decided to leave. Chris stood up to follow her. He tried to convince her to stay when he collapsed to his knees, wheezing. He rolled under the floor. The Heidi walked back over.

She stood over him as he panted for breath. Don't leave me, Farley gasped. He passed out. Heidi slid the watch off Farley's wrist and slipped it in her pocket. On her way out, she stopped to leave him new. He was so much fun. Thanks for a lovely time. The next day, Chris Farley's body was found, dead of a speedball overdose.

Just like his hero, John Belushi. Two months shy of his 34th birthday. He even managed to die at the same age. No drugs were found in Farley's apartment, as far as the press was concerned anyway. Farley's personal assistant was there when the Chicago police searched the apartment. And whenever a cop found something illegal, they passed it off to Farley's assistant and just said, Here. Chicago looked after its own, and Farley belonged to the second city.

However, the truth surrounding Chris Farley's cause of death would ultimately come to light. Another rock star-sized comedic talent dead from drugs. Just like Belushi, another unfortunate disgrace. I'm Jake Brennan, and this is disgrace land. All right, guys, hope you dug this episode. I miss Farley. I think you guys probably do as well. This week's question of the week, I want to know your favorite SNL performer.

Which performer from which era made you laugh the hardest? How did you and your friends watch SNL back in the day? Where? What were you up to? Let me know. 617-90666-6-3-8. Leave me a voicemail. Send me a text.

And let me know. You can also reach me at Disgraceland Pod as well on Instagram, Facebook, and the X. Leave a review for the show on Apple Podcasts or Spotify and win some free merch. Here comes some credits. Disgraceland was created by yours, truly, and is produced in partnership with Double Elvis. Credits for this episode can be found on the show notes page at disgracelandpod.com. If you're listening as a Disgraceland All Access member, thank you for supporting the show. We really appreciate it.

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Pod, and on YouTube at YouTube.com slash at Disgracelandpod. Rock a roll. When a group of women discover they've all dated the same prolific con artist, they take matters into their own hands. I vowed, I will be his last target. He is not going to get away with this. He's going to get what he deserves. We always say that trust your girlfriends.

Listen to the girlfriends. Trust me, babe, on the Iheart radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This season on Dear Chelsea with me, Chelsea Handler, we have some fantastic guests like Amelia Clark. When like young people come up to me and they want to be an actor or whatever. My first thing is always, can you think of anything else that you can do? Rather be disappointed in.

Do that. David O'Yellowo. I love this podcast, whether it's therapy or relationships or religion or sex or addiction or you just go straight for the gut. Dennis Leary, Gaten Moderato from Stranger Things, Tana Monsu, Camilla Morone, Carrie Kenny Silver, and more. Listen to these episodes of Dear Chelsea on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts,

or wherever you get your podcasts. Movies can make you feel, make you dream. Sometimes they even make you appreciate architecture. Is there anybody who's been hotter in a doorway than Elizabeth Taylor? That's the kind of analysis you'll find every week on Dear Movies I Love You, the new podcast from the Exactly Right Network. Every Tuesday, we break down the films we're crushing on, from blockbusters to deep cuts. Listen to Dear Movies I Love You on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.