Fresh Air - Paul Giamatti / Remembering Comic Richard Lewis

Episode Date: March 1, 2024

Paul Giamatti stars in The Holdovers as a pompous and disliked teacher at a boys boarding school in the '70s. He's now up for an Oscar for best actor. Giamatti spoke with Sam Briger about the role and reuniting with director Alexander Payne, 20 years after Sideways.Also, we remember comic and Curb Your Enthusiasm actor Richard Lewis, who died Feb. 27. The Brooklyn-born comic made his standup debut in 1971. His routines were full of biting takes on love, life, and physical and mental health. Lewis spoke with Terry Gross in 1988 and 2000.Also, Justin Chang reviews Dune: Part Two.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

This is Fresh Air. I'm David Bianculli. We're counting down to the Academy Awards. The film Holdovers is nominated for five Oscars, including Best Picture, Supporting Actress, Original Screenplay, and Best Actor for Paul Giamatti. He's already won a Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Comedy. Our producer, Sam Brigger, spoke with Giamatti last month. Here's Sam.

In The Holdovers, Paul Giamatti plays a pompous and lonely classics professor named Paul Hunnam at a New England boarding school for boys in 1970. He's almost universally disliked by other faculty members and by students because of his impossibly high academic standards and merciless grading. The students also mock him behind his back because he has a lazy eye and bad body odor. The body odor is uncontrollable, the result of a rare disease commonly known as fish odor syndrome. But he doesn't do himself any favors in the way he treats his students, as he does here in this scene, handing out his students' graded final exams. I can tell by your faces that many of you are shocked at the outcome. I, on the other

hand, am not because I have had the misfortune of teaching you this semester, and even with my ocular limitations, I witnessed firsthand your glazed, uncomprehending expressions. Sir, I don't understand. That's glaringly apparent. No, it's... I can't fail this class. Oh, don't sell yourself short, Mr. Coates. I truly believe that you can. I'm supposed to go to Cornell. Unlikely. Hunnam also flunked a former student, the son of a major donor,

dashing his chances of going to Princeton and going against the wishes of the school's headmaster. The headmaster decides to punish him. Hunnam must babysit students that have nowhere to go over winter vacation. At first, he has a handful of kids under his care, but most are rescued by one of their fathers, who whisks them off in a helicopter for a ski vacation, leaving only one, a smart but surly junior named Angus Tully, played by Dominic Sessa, whose mother and stepfather can't be reached to get permission for him to leave, as they're off on an overdue honeymoon.

Hunnam and Angus make up a trio with the school's head cook, Mary, played by Daveine Joy Randolph. Mary is mourning her son Marcus, who was a scholarship student at the boarding school but was killed in Vietnam. These three broken and lonely people, thrust together haphazardly, find a bond growing between them as they face the loneliest holiday. This is Paul Giamatti's second starring role in a movie by Alexander Payne. The first was the 2004 film Sideways. Paul Giamatti has also starred in American Splendor, Private Life, and Win-Win. He played the title role in the HBO miniseries John Adams and starred in the Showtime series Billions, which ended its run last October after seven seasons.

Paul Giamatti, welcome back to Fresh Air. Thank you very much. Thanks for having me. So Alexander Payne has said that he wrote the role of Paul Hunnam for you. What was it about the character that interested you? Well, everything about it. I mean, first of all, it was the fact that he was going to direct it that interested me about it. You know, I would sort of do anything he wanted me to do. I think I found the setting interesting.

I found the Christmas story aspect of it, the sort of Scrooge-like story of redemption and change and rebirth and selflessness interesting. The character was really wonderful. The language is wonderful. I think I found the character quite touching because I thought he's a guy who, as far as he's concerned, is doing absolutely the right thing. He's created this sort of persona for himself that feels very comfortable and safe to him at this place and conveying classical values in this way. And he's created this kind of fantasy world for himself. And it comes apart a little bit as the story goes on. This guy sort of has to let go of a lot of his shtick in some ways. And I thought that was interesting. Is it tricky to play a role where in the movie,

the character is disliked by lots of people, but you have to play that person in a way that the audience can empathize with? Yeah, that's always sort of difficult. I mean, I think he's lived in this strange, rarefied world, in this world of intellect, and he's hobbled by his own intellect. The thing that makes him feel superior is the thing that keeps separating him too. And, you know, he just doesn't go about anything the right way, but he's not wrong a lot of the time. So hopefully that comes across as somewhat appealing. But also I thought, you know, he's somewhat self-aware. He takes pleasure in his own nasty wit

in a way that hopefully is funny to people and makes him somewhat appealing. So this movie takes place at a boarding school in 1970. You actually were a student at a boarding school in the 80s. You were a day student. So a decade later, although I bet these places don't change that quickly. And you said that in preparation for the role, you thought a lot about your past

and the people in it. I'm assuming the sort of people that went to your school. What did you take from those memories? I did go to a school like that 10 years on from when the movie set. And it wasn't, I don't think, very different. There were girls there. That's a big difference. Big difference, yes. I'll say that. But a lot of those men were still there.

And for the most part, they were men like this and these old school guys. Yeah. I mean, it wasn't just the school. My whole life, I grew up around teachers and academia. My father was a professor. My mother was a teacher. My grandparents were all teachers and professors. So teachers and teaching were around me a lot.

But for sure, being a day student at one of those places is different than living there. I think in some ways it could probably give me an anthropological perspective on it that maybe you don't have if you live there. So I had some distance on it to be able to observe it in some ways. But absolutely. I mean, it was an interesting part to play. It's an interesting movie for me to watch because I think there was a ton of unconscious memories affecting my system. And I was ending up calling up all kinds of people I wasn't even aware of. I was watching it and thinking, oh, my God, I just reminded myself of this colleague of my father's.

I didn't even realize I was doing that. I had a friend who wrote to me and said, I went to high school with him. And he said, oh, you were clearly doing the head librarian in this whole thing. And I thought, I didn't even think about the head librarian, but he's right. I do seem like the head librarian. So, I mean, there was a ton, there was a deep well of people I was drawing on for this thing, even unconsciously. Some of it was conscious. I had a biology teacher who was very much like this guy, and I thought about him a lot.

And I thought about these men a lot, you know, and they're interesting characters. They're complicated, interesting guys. Your character has a lazy eye, and you've sworn not to say how that was created, which is fine. I won't ask you about that. But you also, you have this rare disorder whose name I'm not going to try to pronounce, but it's commonly known as fish odor syndrome, where the character's body is unable to break down this chemical and has just a really unfortunate body odor issue.

So, you know, as an audience, we only have so many senses to experience the movie but um and fortunately i guess in this case but i was wondering like like do you think about that in your character as you're acting them like i'm assuming you didn't spray yourself no no listen there would be people who would worry who would have like codfish cakes in their pockets and stuff like that. I thought about doing that just to sort of mess with Dom in particular, but I didn't do that. I mean, there's ways in which, yes, the body odor thing is I keep – there's a kind of, you know, saying in theater, particularly when you do Shakespeare, that if you're playing the king,

you don't have to play the king. Everyone around you plays that you are the king. And so I don't need to play that I smell like fish. Everybody around me needs to play that I smell like fish. He's used to smelling like fish. You know, so to a certain extent, they need to do it. There was actually some thinking in this movie. It was interesting with the hair and makeup people.

They said to me in particular, I can't believe it, bathe as little as possible if you can. And I said, okay. And I think it probably helps to give me an appearance of sort of, there's a tactile sense probably about the guy that comes across. Right, sort of unkempt.

Yes, and sort of, you know, and so that helps too. So, you know, I rewatched Sideways in preparation for this interview. And I was thinking there was probably going to be some similarities between the character Paul Hunnam and Miles from Sideways. But rewatching, there's actually a lot of similarities. Like both are misanthropes who feel superior to a lot of people they encounter. Both are would-be writers, although they're teaching to kids and not necessarily always happy about that. Both have a pretty severe drinking problem. And in some ways, you could see the character from the holdovers at what might happen to Miles from Sideways if he doesn't end up with his love

interest at the end of that movie. It is interesting. And, you know, it's a subject that both Alexander and I kind of danced around and didn't really talk about. And it's very funny that we didn't, because certainly you could see some, I could see all these similarities too. It'd be better asked to him how much he was consciously doing that, how much he meant to do that, that in some sense you really are seeing

a similar guy at a different stage of his life. It's certainly, I could, you're absolutely right, There's lots of similarities. There's ways in which it didn't feel the same to me though, too. He doesn't feel like the same guy to me. He feels like a more, I like this guy better than the other guy. Um, I feel like he's got more kind of backbone sort of. He's less self-pitying.'s more sort of i think he's funnier i think he's kind of i just think he's got more going on than the other guy um i liked him better as a as a person and a presence i i found him more fun to play i i i liked it maybe that could be the same guy 20 years on that i'm enjoying i don't't know. But I could definitely see it. And in some ways, I remembered thinking at a certain point, it's a funny way. Maybe it is like sort of the sequel to Sideways that would never get made as technically a sequel to Sideways.

I don't know. But Alexander would be a good guy to ask about it. But in a funny way, we kind of avoided ever talking about it. I can't imagine a sideways two, but... Yeah, exactly. No, no, you can't. You really can't. So maybe this is some sort of extension of it. Yeah. Well, your character, Miles, is a lover of wine, particularly Pinot Noir. In fact, that movie probably increased the cost of Pinot Noir across the country. But I wanted to play a clip where your love interest, Maya, played by Virginia Madsen,

asks you why you love that wine so much. And, you know, your character, Miles, is talking about wine, but he's also really talking about himself. So let's hear that. You know, can I ask you a personal question, Miles? Sure. Why are you so into pinot? I mean, it's like a thing with you. I don't know. I don't know.

It's a hard grape to grow, as you know, right? It's thin skin, temperamental, ripens early. It's, you know, it's not a survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and thrive even when it's neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention. You know, and in fact, it can only grow in these really specific little tucked away corners of the world. And only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot's potential can then coax it into its fullest expression.

And then, I mean, oh, its flavors are just the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and ancient on the planet. That's a scene from Sideways with our guests Paul Giamatti and Virginia Madsen. First of all, I just love how Virginia Madsen prefaces that question with, can I ask you a personal question? I was just thinking the same thing, how funny that is, that that's the deeply personal question.

It's very funny. So do you remember doing that scene? Yes, very much so. I remember it vividly, yeah. So do you remember doing that scene? Yes, very much so. I remember it vividly, yeah. So can you talk about, I mean, I'm sure when you saw the script, you're like, oh, this is a really good speech. Yeah, I thought it was a really good scene, you know, and I thought it was a nice speech, yeah. And, you know, he's not aware so much as she is of what they're really talking about. You know, she's, she's the one who's much more aware than, than him.

And so she sort of picks it up and really, really brings it home with a beautiful speech that kind of freaks him out. Cause then he realizes what they're actually talking about and it's sort of, it hits him and, you know, he's he's he's he's really fallen for this woman um but i remember shooting it absolutely i mean it was a wonderful i remember every second of making that movie probably because i was very nervous but also because it was a really special experience i mean it just felt i'd never done anything like it before and and until holdovers i'd never really done anything quite like it again because of the sort of intimate atmosphere that he creates. And that was a very lovely, quiet, intimate evening that the whole crew was having, you know. And it was, I remember

it vividly and she was wonderful in it and just absolutely entrancing in it. And I remember it very well. So do you recall what it was about acting that first appealed to you? play acting. I mean, from the time I was a very little kid, dressing up and being a character, and particularly as a kid, sort of monstrous and grotesque things. I was very drawn to sort of like werewolves and mummies and things like that, and sort of strange characters, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And I enjoyed sort of always the school plays and stuff. But I think when I did it in high school, there was a kind of sense of connection that, and communication that was almost shockingly joyous that I felt. I've, you know, it was not the easiest place in the world, that place and the rough environments. And, and I felt a kind of, you know, for lack of a better word, not that I felt seen or something,

but I felt connected to people, to the other actors and to the, and I felt a sense of, of communal effort that was really, really exciting to me. And as much as playing the character and getting laughs and doing all those things was great, when I think about it now, I think it was genuinely this feeling of connection. And I can't articulate it much better than that. Was there a point when you were thinking, well, this is something I should maybe consider pursuing? Well, later, yeah. I mean, I went to Yale University. I went to college and then did it a lot extracurricularly and sort of fell into that. I wasn't a major or anything there. But I left it and it became obsessive to me. And I left and it was shortly after that that I think I started realizing it was something that I should – I wanted to do very badly and I should.

Your dad died at the age of 51 from a heart attack. You've said that it was because of your father's sudden death that you decided to become an actor, that before that you were thinking maybe becoming an academic? Well, you know, it's all hard for me to sort of be entirely clear about it. I mean, like I say, it was the thing I loved doing the most. I think I thought, well, I should do something else because, you know, I don't know why I'm being an actor. I just didn't, you know, but I loved it. And his dying was a very profoundly destabilizing thing for everybody in my family. He was a very solid, grounded figure in the world. And for him to disappear in an instant at that young an age freaked me out, obviously. And I think it did impel me to go, I'm going to pursue and do the thing that I love to do. Because possibly your time is short. Sure.

You should really just go for it. And also my father had instilled that in me. And so all of a sudden his absence made that, his urging me always to do that throughout my life somehow even more present in my mind. I thought, I'm going to do the thing I love to do. It's what he would have said to me to do. So I did. So your dad left academia and became the commissioner for Major League Baseball. And it sounds like he loved baseball a lot of

his life. Did that also make you feel like that you should pursue the things that you really love? Yes, I think so. I think that was also a part of it. I can remember my dad when he left the presidency of Yale. And he sort of took kind of a year off, you know, he wasn't really doing much. And I was in college. And I think the baseball thing sort of came through of a year off, you know, he wasn't really doing much. And, and I was in college and I think the baseball thing sort of came through and I can remember him in this very kind of giddy way, funny, giddy way saying to me, well, I'm thinking about going back to teaching, but they've asked me to go and, you know, they've asked me if I'm interested in going to baseball, what do you think? And I was like, geez, I don't know. And I was a little bit like, geez, I don't know, do the safe thing and go back to teaching. And I was like, geez, I don't know. And I was a little bit like, geez, I don't know,

do the safe thing and go back to teaching. And he was like, no, no, no, I think I got to do baseball. And I was like, yeah, okay, do baseball. And he did. And it was very much him doing a thing. And I remembered thinking, oh, yes, of course, he couldn't have done anything but go into baseball. The guy was out of his mind with joy. He was out of his mind that he could go to baseball games anytime. And, you know, I mean, it was pure oxygen to the guy. So I don't know how I ever could have thought, like, don't do that. Well, Paul Giamatti, I want to thank you so much for coming on the show.

Thank you very much for having me. Paul Giamatti is nominated for Best Actor for his starring role in the film The Holdovers. He spoke with our producer Sam Brigger. After a break, we remember comic Richard Lewis, who died of a heart attack Tuesday at the age of 76. And Justin Chang reviews Dune Part 2. I'm David Bianculli, and this is Fresh Air. Richard Lewis, the veteran stand-up comedian whose routines were full of caustic takes on love, life, and physical and mental health, died of a heart attack Tuesday. He was 76 years old. Richard Lewis was born in Brooklyn in 1947 and made his first appearance as a stand-up comic on stage in Greenwich Village in 1971.

It took him eight years to get on television, and he and TV were an uneasy fit. His one starring role was in the late 80s and early 90s, playing Marty Gold opposite Jamie Lee Curtis in the ABC sitcom Anything But Love. Here's a quick scene featuring the two. His mother is visiting, he's avoiding her, and Jamie Lee's character is trying to get the two to reconcile. She's your mommy. Just spend some time with her. Talk with her. Listen to her. Let her tell you about her business. Look, the only time we were ever alone together without fighting is when she was pregnant with me. And even then, I came out screaming. That series lasted four seasons. But before, after, and sometimes during those years, Richard Lewis worked hard to maintain a high profile. He performed in a series of popular stand-up TV specials over the years,

and their titles alone reflected the confessional, complaining territory Lewis had carved out for himself. Some of his TV specials and comedy tours were titled I'm Exhausted, I'm Doomed, and The Magical Misery Tour. And all the time he was touring, Lewis was embraced and showcased by some of the most respected and influential comedians in show business. David Letterman had Richard Lewis on his late night show more than any other guest. I lived here all my life.

I come back to the show, and I'm going to go back, and I got a call today. A guy called me up at the hotel, because you publicized where we're staying, which is great. this guy was angry at me. There used to be a game, Prisoner Ball, in second grade. It was really a sadistic game.

Prisoner Ball? They just kill as many people on the other side. That's pretty much it. And he was angry at me. You know, people harbor these little incidents in their lives. I have thousands of them. And this guy, I'm sure he's in therapy about it now, but he chose to call me. Good luck on the Letterman Show. And then he says, I hated you. Mel Brooks cast him as Prince John in his 1993 movie Robin Hood Men in Tights. And Larry David, a childhood friend, cast Richard Lewis as an even more acerbic version of himself

in the first episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm in 1999, a show on which he's appeared, off and on, ever since. Including earlier this month, in a scene where Richard and Larry are riding a golf cart, chatting while driving to the Knicks team. I did Wordle again today. I'm a Wordle wizard, man. I did it in three tries. That's three days in a row, man. Wow, you're really on a good streak.

I'm on a huge streak. That's right. All right, let's see if I can continue my streak. I know, you've been unbelievable. What is this all about? How are you doing this? You know why? I sat on a bench this morning and overheard a lesson.

I've had thousands of hours of lessons. Two minutes on that bench. This guy changed my life. What kind of tips? Vertical drop. Yeah. Horizontal tug. Horizontal tug? Vertical drop. Horizontal tug. Now, I've dropped before, but I've never tugged. And now I'm tugging. Maybe I should tug. You gotta tug. Can you teach me how to tug? I'll teach you

how to tug. This is fantastic. Can I tell you something? Sure. I think this is the happiest I've ever been in my life. I don't even know who I'm looking at right now. How is something good happening to me? No one on the planet would believe that you're happy. How is this possible? Terry Gross spoke with Richard Lewis twice. The first time was in 1988 to talk about his new HBO comedy special, I'm Exhausted.

It combined his live performance on stage in Chicago with his offstage depiction of a nervous breakdown. Thank you. You're a great audience. I wish I could feel better about feeling good, quite frankly. My hypochondriacs, my grandparents, they lived in a place that made me so out of it in Florida. I think the condo was called Crestborn. That was the name of it. So I feel, you know, and they bought me little gifts. I think the condo was called Crestborn. That was the name of it, you know. So I feel, you know, and they bought me little gifts. I mean, well, they were very negative. We had like a little depression fair in the backyard for my birthday.

And we used to throw wooden hoops around. Prescription drugs was a big thing. They had no Tomorrowland, which is sort of a big thing. And pin the blame on the donkey was a major game at our house. How did the I'm Exhausted show come about? Do you go around saying to friends all the time, Oh, God, I'm exhausted? I said that, actually, I think, to my mother moments after I was born.

I just have always been exhausted for the fear that I wouldn't do enough work. That's a whole other area, isn't it? I don't always go around saying I'm exhausted. I'm a good friend. If I went to a funeral, I wouldn't be insensitive and say I'm exhausted. I had been exhausted prior to doing this special for HBO. But the problem was the special had to be done in about two weeks. That was like, this should have been an episode of Innova, you know.

How a Jewish man with bad posture who searches for perfection is told by executives that fine, but we have to have it delivered in two weeks. And, you know, we pulled it off, I think. I don't know. But I was exhausted doing it, and I think it shows in a positive, affectionate way. Did you enjoy being sick when you were a kid? Well, I did because I usually wasn't. But people did. It was like a hypochondriacal kabuki theater I put on for the family, and I had different makeups for different ailments, of course. The flu, I felt, was the dead giveaway. I mean, it was this kabuki,

very white makeup, and it was almost a mask-like effect, and it was frightening. I was half a bison, half a Jewish man, and I'd come down to breakfast knowing that my family would shriek and then have me stay home, and they normally did. Are you a hypochondriac now? Yes, sadly. What are the diseases you most often think you're getting? Well, I would say mostly, and not to make light of diseases because they're so horrific and certainly the sexual stuff now is so frightening. I basically get worried when I see any kind of rash, even if the slightest rash, I feel it will eventually spread into just cover me like elephant man.

And I run to every salve store. There's a lot of salve boutiques in Los Angeles, thank God. And I have a rash man in Beverly Hills who I like. But basically, it's rashes that scare me more than anything. And also, any kind of back pain, I always fear. I always did as a kid, sadly. Whenever I got a sore throat, for example, I really felt it would never go away. This was when I should have known then that psychotherapy was right around the corner. Do you ever have audiences who are so well-adjusted that they don't get your jokes about neuroses? I don't like to consider any so well-adjusted that they don't get your jokes about neuroses? I don't like to consider any audience well-adjusted, seriously.

First, I don't like to judge people. And I certainly wouldn't judge people in that light. I don't find too many people are well-adjusted, and if there were, I wouldn't go over very well. If I bomb, if I ever bomb, thank God I don't bomb as much as you do when you start out, I would just blame myself. You've done the David Letterman show a lot of times. How many times? Do you keep count?

I thought it was somewhere in the high 30s. Do you prepare for it when you go on? In unbelievable fashion. It's the only reason why I have done stand-up in the last six years, or have given me impetus to do it, because I never had an audience before on a regular basis. So I write down thousands and thousands of jokes a month. It takes me days and days to whittle it down to 30 or 40 ideas that I want to get to to the show. Not to mention we ad lib a lot on the show too, but I prepare in an enormous fashion for the show. And I feel I had a problem sexually. I felt ever since I grew up, I just, and then we broke up. She was saying that she's bad mouthing me to my pals.

She said, I gave her an anti-climax, she was telling my friends. That could be dangerous, couldn't it? We couldn't have foreplay. She wore like a Rupik's bra when she came into the bedroom. And I blame my family. My parents, I know they made love, and yet they, it was like Nixon, like Watergate, they would cover it up. Very, very, yeah, quiet about it. They didn't want to let us hear that they were screaming.

My father would go, uh, that's gin. up. Very, very quiet about it. They didn't want to let us hear that. They were screaming. My father would go, uh, that's gin. He would say, that's gin. Doesn't Letterman strike you as a pretty healthy, well-adjusted guy? I wouldn't go that far. Again, I hate to judge people's good health. I'll say this. I think so.

I mean, we're so night and day together. I mean, why I think the chemistry has been effective for him and me. When I sit next to him, and I talk about, particularly when I talk about my innermost feelings and certainly sexuality, I look at his face. He's only a foot away from me. And I, it makes me laugh because, I'm not doing this to make him embarrassed, but he does get, I feel, legitimately embarrassed. And it's cute to me. But his eyes start to recede. They go

back, like, to the Panama Canal. I can't even see his face. It's like little off an Annie's eyes. Can I ask you what your bar mitzvah was like? And here's why I ask it. For a lot, I mean, a bar mitzvah is, in Jewish terms, it I ask it. For a lot, I mean, a bar mitzvah is, in Jewish terms, it's a religious ceremony to mark the beginning

of manhood. Right. But for a lot of people, it's like their first opening act, you know, like their first initiation into show business

because, like, you're the star of the show. There's a band. There's an emcee. You know, everybody in your family gets to dance and everything. And you're the star.

Was it like a, what kind of bar mitzvah did you have? Spielberg could not have done justice to what I had. First of all, my father, who was passed on, was the greatest caterer in the area, in New Jersey and in parts of New York. He was really a genius.

So, of course, he catered my bar mitzvah. It got off on a low self-esteem note that my father was booked up on the weekend for my bar mitzvah. I had to settle for a Tuesday afternoon, early evening bar mitzvah party. Unheralded in the Torah. I mean, I heard Moses grumbling, how can he do that to his son? But what happened was I understood, you know, he had a job to do. And Tuesday night was sort of hip now that I think of it. But before the party, the Saturday before, I had to read what they call the Haftarah or Haftarah.

I'm very bad with the accents here. But what happened was that I started screwing up a little bit, and I saw some of the congregation getting a little uneasy, and then I started doing stand-up. I went, oh, I'm kidding, Jonah and the Whale. Come on. And I started playing the tempo like a lounge. Richard Lewis, speaking to Terry Gross in 1988. We'll hear excerpts of a more recent conversation after a break. This is Fresh Air. We're remembering Richard Lewis, who spent 50 years on stage as a stand-up comic. He died Tuesday of a heart attack at age 76. Terry Gross spoke with him again in the year 2000,

when he had just published his memoir, The Other Great Depression, in which he wrote about his struggles with alcohol, drugs, and depression. His father died when he was young, and Terry asked him if his mother was able to accept his comedy about his parents. Yeah, I mean, I think that, you know, my mother had a great sense of humor, and I'm not mean-spirited, I can really say that. And my comedy, when I talk about other people, it's, you know, the craft of comedy is, you know, hyperbole certainly is a big part of it.

And I would exaggerate, but always the truth. And she would be the first to admit, at least privately, that she would do that. You know, I mean, I remember a joke I wrote like 30 years ago, and I use this because it was very economical, and I'm of proud of the joke because it was it's a good it was a good joke. It was about how bored I would be driving across country with my family and how unspontaneous they would be and how it would drive me crazy. And I, of course, I embellished it. We never did drive across country, but I had us backing out of our driveway from our hometown in Englewood, New Jersey, going, driving to San Francisco and her jiggling something in her hand. I said, mother, what is

that? What are you doing? You're making crazy. And she says, I have the tolls ready for the Golden Gate Bridge. And that, and that to me was, you know, would have basically, and audiences always screamed at that because, you know, I had to set it up properly. But that was like you drive with this family for thirty three hundred miles. You know, that's where it was at. And when I would say something that would really hit home, she would sometimes she would never get angry. In fact, she would sometimes call me at the hotel in New York and say, don't forget to mock me tonight on Letterman. I mean, so I think she had a love hate thing with it, you know? Yeah. When you talk about urinarosis, I can relate to some of that and say, yeah, no, that's really funny. And maybe I'll feel a little bit about

better about myself. So are you going to feel better about yourself if I laugh at your jokes? Absolutely. I really do feel validated, you know, that I'm not alone. There's no question I feel less alone. I mean, there's nothing worse when I try to have a riff on stage about a problem that's making me depressed, and I'm looking at an audience, be it 300 or 3,000, and there's silence. I'm saying, wow. I mean, there's a thin line between narcissism and entertainment, and that's pure narcissism. My goal is to entertain people. But if I can entertain them and get laughs to boot and applause about problems that I'm having,

it only means, like what you just said, that, you know, they can relate. And that's my goal. Well, the last thing you want to do is to share your problems on stage in a way that you think is really funny. And instead of people laughing, they feel sorry for you. Yeah, that for you yeah that yeah i mean i've has that ever happened to you yes once i said uh you know i'm not a complainer and 3 000 people moaned and i almost i mean if there was a trap door in that concert hall i would have gone down it your comedy has always been about, well, yourself and neurosis and hypochondria, et cetera. How did you know when you started in comedy that you were going to be your subject matter and that your insecurities were going to be what your comedy was about?

Well, you know, when I started out in like 71, you know, a lot of comedy was, you know, observational comedy. And, you know, one of the reasons I went on stage is because I felt, you know, very alienated. You know, I didn't feel, I didn't get the kind of nurturing that I felt. I just didn't feel nurtured and appreciated as much as probably I wanted to. So I needed the adulation from strangers, really, from audiences. And when I was starting to... I started writing jokes before I went on stage

for, as they say, these Catskill comedians and Borscht Belt comedians. And they were rejecting most of the good stuff. And most of the good stuff was my real feelings about myself. And that was a real sign that, you know, I had to go on stage and do these jokes rather than throw them out. And they were about me. And plus, I didn't really like, I felt so judged growing up that I didn't really like to get on stage and tell audiences, you know, did you ever notice this? Did you ever notice when you do that,

that you feel this way? That was the last thing I wanted to do. What I wanted to do was talk about how I was feeling and pray to God that it was relatable and that people laughed. And, you know, three decades later, you know, they still are mostly. So I guess, you know, I struck a nerve. Richard Lewis speaking to Terry Gross in 2000. The stand-up comedian and frequent Curb Your Enthusiasm guest star died Tuesday. He was 76 years old. Here's another clip from an early stand-up routine. I mean, you know, I don't mind being with the family on Hanukkah because being on the road,

like I was in the Deep South about two years ago on Hanukkah, they thought, I swear to God, they thought Hanukkah was a duck call. That's all I know. It was like, Hanukkah, pull a chute. That's all you know. I tiptoed around the deep south on Hanukkah. I just want a sandwich. I'll be fine. Just let me have a sandwich. But Hanukkah, Christmas, we didn't know what we were, quite frankly.

It was sort of a, I really don't know what we were. We had like a, there was a Christmas tree, and yet, and yet it was a Hanukkah bush. It was sort of like a, sort of like an elephant man kind of thing there. It was like, they had balls hanging down, and yet there was like a picture of gold in my ear sort of over here. It was, hey, it wasn't Hanukkah, it wasn't Christmas, it was Kronika.

We had Kronika. After a break, film critic Justin Chang reviews the long-delayed science fiction sequel, Dune, Part 2. This is Fresh Air. Dune, Part 2, the second half of the blockbuster adaptation of Frank Herbert's 1965 science fiction novel, was supposed to open in theaters last fall, but was delayed because of the strikes by Hollywood writers and actors. The movie, with a cast led by Timothee Chalamet, Zendaya,

and Javier Bardem, is now opening in theaters. Our film critic, Justin Chang, has this review. Dune Part 2 picks up right where Dune Part 1 left off. It's still the year 10,191, and we're back on Arrakis, a remote desert planet with vast reserves of spice, the most coveted substance in the universe. The villains of House Harkonnen have regained control of Arrakis after defeating the benevolent leaders of House Atreides, but hope survives in the form of the young hero Paul Atreides, who has fled into the desert. Paul is played again by Timothy Chalamet, whose performance has matured alongside the character. Paul still has his boyish vulnerability, but now he may be tasked with leading a revolution. Paul has taken refuge

among the Bedouin-like nomads known as the Fremen, many of whom believe he is a Messiah-like figure, who, according to prophecy, will help them defeat their Harkonnen oppressors. To be accepted by the Fremen, Paul must learn their ways and pass the ultimate test by riding one of the deadly giant sandworms that continually roam the desert. In this scene, the Fremen warrior Stilgar, played with wry, avuncular wit by Javier Bardem, gives Paul the device he needs to summon the worm, plus a little pep talk. He calls Paul by his adopted Fremen name, Usul, and refers to the worm as Shai Hulud. Be simple. Be direct. Nothing fancy. Nothing fancy. Hey, I'm serious. Nothing fancy or you will shame my teaching.

I won't shame you. I understand. Shaihulu decides today if you become Fremen or if you die. Paul successfully rides the worm, and it's the movie's single most thrilling sequence. What are those rare moments when you can feel the director, Denis Villeneuve, flexing every blockbuster muscle in his body? With its heightened life-or-death stakes and sometimes staggering large-scale action sequences, Dune Part 2 is certainly a more exciting and eventful journey than Dune Part 1. But even here, the high points are over too soon, and the movie quickly moves on. Villeneuve is an impressive builder of sci-fi worlds, but his storytelling is too mechanical to sustain a real sense of awe.

Admittedly, there is a ton of plot to get through in Frank Herbert's original novel, a dense saga of feudal warfare and environmental decay. Paul leads a mighty Fremen insurgency against the Harkonnens, destroying their troops and disrupting their spice mining operations. Paul also occasionally clashes with his noble mother, Lady Jessica, who ushers in some of the movie's more mind-bending sequences, trippy hallucinations, spooky religious rituals, and a subplot involving a telepathic fetus that reminded me of The Star Child from 2001. Lady Jessica is played by the formidable Rebecca Ferguson, who keeps you guessing about her character's motives as she

urges Paul to embrace his divine calling. But she gets fierce pushback from a Fremen warrior, Chani, with whom Paul has fallen in love. Chani, played by a terrific Zendaya, rejects the prophecy entirely and urges Paul not to buy into it. Eventually, Paul comes to the cynical realization that it doesn't matter if he's a messiah or not, so long as his followers believe he is. Villeneuve, who co-wrote the script with John Spates, shrewdly calls Paul's heroism into question, and in doing so pushes back against the common accusation that Dune is just another white savior fantasy. That said, the movie isn't as adept at handling the various influences that Herbert wove into the novel, which draws heavily on Arab culture and Muslim beliefs. As such,

it's hard to watch the movie and not think about current conflicts in the Middle East, and wonder if it will have anything trenchant or meaningful to say about them. That's a lot to ask of even the smartest, gutsiest blockbuster. But Dune Part 2 doesn't rise to the occasion. It ultimately treats politics as superficially as it treats everything else. For all Villeneuve's astounding craftsmanship, there's a blankness to his filmmaking that I can't get past, even when he's introducing a frightening Harkonnen villain played by Austin Butler, who's utterly unrecognizable here as the

star of Elvis. What this Dune needed was a director with not just a massive budget and an exacting design sense, but a touch of madness in his spirit. Someone like David Lynch, who famously directed a much maligned adaptation of Dune back in 1984. That movie was a flop, but as always, box office only tells part of the story. For sheer grotesque poetry and visionary grandeur, Lynch's film still worms its way into my imagination in a way that this one never will. Justin Chang is a film critic at The New Yorker. He reviewed Dune Part 2, now in theaters. On Monday's show, RuPaul, creator and host of the reality competition show RuPaul's Drag Race The TV series has run for 16 seasons, for which he has won 14 Emmys Now, RuPaul has a memoir about growing up black, poor, and queer

And how he forged a new and glamorous life in punk rock and drag I hope you can join us. To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at NPR Fresh Air. Fresh Air's executive producer is Danny Miller. Our senior producer today is Roberta Schurach. Our technical director and engineer is Audrey Bentham, with additional engineering support by Joyce Lieberman, Julian Hertzfeld, and Al Banks. Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Amy Sallet, Phyllis Myers, Sam Brigger, Lauren Krenzel, Heidi Saman, Teresa Madden, Anne-Marie Baldonado, Thea Chaloner, Seth Kelly, and Susan Yakundi. Our digital media producer is Molly C.V. Nesbitt. For Terry Gross and Tanya Mosley, I'm David B.