Always thought that he was un unfunny douche.....and Musto still looks like an owl with his big glasses.
By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
By Alison Flowers
By Albert Samaha
By Jesse Jarnow
By Eric Tsetsi
By Raillan Brooks
Nutty funnyman—or funny nuttyman—Andy Dick recently swung around for the Tribeca Film Festival showing of Freaky Deaky, based on the Elmore Leonard book about revenge and mayhem, '70s style. In a refreshing interview, Andy—who does a weekly Friday show at L.A.'s First & Hope—gave me an earful of Dick-tation.
Hi, Andy. I wish you were in Freaky Deaky more.
I had a blast working on it. I got to know Crispin Glover. (We play brothers.) I've been fascinated by him since the '80s. He remembers that when I first moved to L.A., I stalked him in a Studebaker underground into the parking lot of his building and followed him up to his apartment and accidentally scared him. He told me he's only had two stalkers. The other one was a lady who climbed onto the fire escape.
Usually, he's the stalker.
Usually, he plays stalkers. I'm infatuated. I hope I'm seen in that light where you feel like even if you spent the rest of your life with him, you still wouldn't know the guy. He's a true artist.
Did you have sex with him?
No. I don't think he would have, but I wouldn't put it past me.
Were you self-conscious doing your big scene in your underwear?
Yes, because I'm in way better shape now than I was back then. I walked around the set for about an hour in my underwear—"OK, people, get used to it." Breanne [his co-star] took the director aside and said, "Can I not be topless?" I thought, "Gee, I was looking forward to all that jazz." The other person I hung out with a lot was Michael Jai White, who was spectacular. You'd expect him to be this tough-ass black guy, but he's super nice. I'm trying to get him to put me in Black Dynamite II.
Did you have sex with him?
No, not him, either. I didn't have the opportunity to have sex with anybody because I hired a sober companion. I pictured Detroit being a big drinking city, and I was right. Driving around going to my meetings, I saw these dive bars. It's like a dive bar is a magnet, and I'm an iron filing. I'm not gonna lie: I miss it, even though nothing gets accomplished.
So you're sober?
For a long time. Tribeca was temptation. Everybody was drinking. But I ended up being able to have just as much fun and sex and laughing my ass off and never drinking, never feeling sick. I met one person who didn't drink, and I tried to just cling to him. I was fascinated by him because he's 27, but he's never had a drink in his life. I understand not drinking, but you have to drink first.
So you had sex with that guy?
I only hooked up a couple times.
Aren't they all? Thank God I'm a star. [Laughs.]
Does comedy always come from a dark place?
Yeah. Irony is something you don't expect, so it's almost not welcome. But if you don't make fun of the crap you're going through, you're doomed to be miserable. I saw something on CNN that said people who swear live longer. If you're uptight and hold it in, you're doing yourself a disservice and breeding cancer.
So Joan Rivers will live forever. As a comic, do you have survivor's guilt?
Completely. I'm riddled with that. Not only do I think: "It should have been me. Look at how I've lived and how crazy I am and my drinking issues," but I get people that tweet it to me—"It should have been you!"
No, she's in the ground. She would have been one of them—but very tongue in cheek.
Do you respond to nasty tweets?
If it makes me laugh, I will sometimes retweet it. If it's pure evil, like the devil himself sent it directly to me, I'll retweet it just to stick the dicktards on them. I've had people shut down their accounts because all my followers will gang up like fire ants on an infant. Or I'll give a snide comment back, ending with ". . . blocked."
Like, "How many dicks do you have in your mouth now?" I'll say, "Enough to choke a . . . blocked." I already have enough crappy things in my own head. I don't need validation of crap.
By the way, you and I once did a skit for VH1, and you were very professional.
We ended up writing my character in that into Zoolander. Will Ferrell played it because I was stuck on a show. My lawyer advised me not to drop out of the show because I'd just gotten out of my very first rehab, and people would think I'm a loose cannon. It was my biggest mistake.
I doubt it.
Yeah, I'd be dead by now. I would have been a big movie star and have had too much too soon, and it would have driven me nuts. The thing is, I'm still alive! I'm looking forward to doing another series.
If Charlie Sheen can get one . . .
His promos are funny—"Everyone deserves a 24th chance." That's how I feel. I'm like a cat. I've had more than nine lives, and I always land on my feet.