Comedian Denis Leary confesses that his sense of humor has always gotten him into trouble. The first time he was only 6.
“I specifically remember the first day I went to school in the first grade. And we were out in the yard. Right before school started, you were allowed to play around in the yard,” he recalls.
“And all these kids were out in the yard, and when the bell rang, this really mean looking old nun came out and started yelling at us to go inside. My house is only about four blocks away, so I took off. I thought, ‘I'm not doing what SHE tells me.’ So I got detention my first day of first grade. And it never stopped.”
Though the punishment became less severe, it never did stop for Leary, who polished his funny bone in the process. “I went to Catholic school for 12 years,” he nods, “at the same school in my neighborhood with the same kids, the same nuns, the same priest. So I don’t know why, but very quickly I realized that I was more interested in making the other kids laugh than actually doing what the nuns told us to do. That was my talent — so I went with it (he laughs) and it paid off.”
It paid off all right. Since then Leary has ticked off a myriad of projects on his colorful resume, from writing to producing to starring in TV series like “Rescue Me,” “Sirens” and “Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll.”
In his latest, “The Moodys,” Leary plays the put-upon patriarch snagged in an unruly and zany family. The series, which returns to Fox on April 1, is not so far from his own rowdy clan, Leary admits.
“I grew up in a house that whatever your feelings were, everybody knew them because we were all yelling and screaming all the time,” he says.
“That part of (the show) spoke to my heart, and also the idea of a bunch of kids that can’t get away from each other, like most families. When they finally do get away from each other, they find their way back together,” he says.
In spite of their foibles, he regards his TV family as perfectly functional. “Coming from a working-class Irish household where everybody wore their feelings on their sleeves, I don’t find it dysfunctional. I think it’s dysfunctional based on what people consider the ‘perfect family.’ But I don’t know a perfect family. I’ve never met one. I have a feeling it would be pretty boring. In this case, it’s the opposite. There’s always somebody screaming or upset or planning something, so it’s a blast to shoot based on all the things they go through.”
It took a while for Leary’s brand of razor-edged comedy to catch on, but he wasn’t troubled by the wait. “I can’t remember who said it, but it’s the difference between longing to do something and needing to do something — for better or worse,” he says.
“So when I was young I was trying to act in the theater, that’s where I came from, the theater. I wasn’t making any money, but I didn’t have a credit card, didn’t have any debt, didn’t have a car, my rent was really cheap. And I actually didn’t have any other talent, so it didn’t bother me. I just loved waking up and doing comedy and acting in shows that nobody saw. It didn’t bother me. Did I want to be famous? Yeah, but as little money as I was making was better than working a nine-to-five job which wasn’t my gig.”
The thought of quitting his gig never occurred to him, he says. “I never looked back. I loved acting and writing and stand-up so much it never even entered my mind. What entered my mind was I wanted to get out of the clubs and go back to the theater eventually. I wrote a one-man show because I knew I wanted to get in a theatrical setting.”
That piece, “No Cure for Cancer,” played off-Broadway, selling out for six months. “I was still only making $300 a week, that was reasonable money because I covered my rent,” he says. “I had to close the show because my second baby, my daughter, was coming. My wife and I couldn’t afford babysitters so she was going to be born in February, and I closed the show in January so I could be around when the baby was born. That’s how committed I was.”
Once he became a father, Leary was determined to learn as much as he could about his chosen field. “Looking back on it in terms of show business, I was always thinking about the long haul. I learned about filmmaking and television and writing to make sure I had a career that lasted because I had to feed two kids now. I had enough life experience when I got famous that I knew I wanted to be in it for a long haul instead of being a flash in the pan.”
While he cops to not being “the most patient guy in the world,” Leary says he never looks back. “I'm a shark, I just move forward.
“I think about things I did wrong and try to learn from them, but I don’t dwell on the past, I just move forward. There were probably things I could’ve done better as a dad. Sometimes I think I wish I hadn’t tortured those nuns. But by torturing those nuns, it made me funny. And that sort of got me where I am, so I can’t really regret it.”
LOVATO REVEALS ALL IN DOCUMENTARY
Three years ago singer Demi Lovato suffered a near-death relapse after being sober for six years. It was an overdose that triggered three strokes and a heart attack. She chronicles her voyage into the heart of darkness in the documentary, “Demi Lovato: Dancing with the Devil.” YouTube Originals will begin streaming the series on Tuesday.
Lovato’s struggle with alcohol, drugs and an eating disorder has been relentlessly monitored by the press, but she’s eager to tell her side of the story, she says.
“I wanted to set the record straight and I wanted to reveal it all for my fans and say, ‘Hey, this is who I am, and this is where I'm at today and this is the journey that got me here,’” she says.
“And if it helps you, then I hope that it can, because that was ultimately my purpose in putting this out was to be able to help people that have been on the same path as I have.
Lovato, 28, reports she was impaired by the incident. “I was left with brain damage and I still deal with the effects of that today,” she says.
“I don't drive a car because I have blind spots in my vision. I also, for a long time, had a really hard time reading. Reading, it was a big deal when I was able to read out of a book which was two months later because my vision was so blurry. I dealt with a lot of the repercussions and I feel like they kind of are still there to remind me of what could happen if I ever get into a dark place again.”
ESTEVEZ DEFROSTS OLD ROLE
Emilio Estevez has strapped on his skates and is back on the ice in the new Disney+ series, “Mighty Ducks: Game Changers,” which begins streaming Friday. It’s been a quarter-century since the last of the three “Mighty Ducks” movies landed on the scoreboard. In the meantime, Estevez has been busy with other goals. “I've spent the last 25 years pretty much behind the camera directing films,” he says.
“And to a lot of people, it had seemed like I had sort of dropped off the radar, that I wasn't interested in acting anymore. The fact of the matter is that I kind of, I made a left turn. I exited mainstream motion pictures with ‘The Mighty Ducks: Part 3.’ I got into making independent films, films that had more of a social message. And so that's where I've been, really, for the last 25 years, making very personal movies like ‘Bobby’ or ‘The Way’ or, recently, ‘The Public.’”
Estevez (who’s Charlie Sheen’s older brother and Martin Sheen’s son) says he was persuaded to return by “Ducks” writer Steve Brill and by folks he met in the Midwest.
“You know, I've spent a lot of time in the central corridor of the country and outside the gatekeeper of the 213, 310 and the 212 area codes, and I talk to a lot of people,” he says.
“In fact, I have a home in Ohio, Cincinnati. And in talking to people in the central corridor of the country, a lot of people say, ‘Well, we love you on screen. Where have you been? If you ever were to come back, we'd love to see you in two roles: One is Gordon Bombay in “The Mighty Ducks” and the other is Billy the Kid in “Young Guns.”’ And so I've got one of those. We've ticked one of those boxes.”
‘AMERICAN MASTERS’ LIMNS CHOREOGRAPHER
Unconventional dancer-choreographer Twyla Tharp is the next subject of PBS’ “American Masters” landing en pointe on Friday. At 79, still making all the right moves, Tharp says she was originally inspired by her mother.
“When I was a kid, first of all, my mother's influence in taking me and exposing me to all varieties (of dance), totally eclectic,” she says.
“From flamenco to toe-tap, to little cymbals happening with happy hula hands. And nothing was not acceptable to her as fire for the fuel. She was the one who, again, made it possible for me to want to be completely engaged by variety. And ultimately why? Because ultimately it's about unity. Ultimately, the more diverse elements you can bring to one place, the more you can confirm the idea of communication between yourself and others, which is the entire venture,” she says.
“My mother is responsible for my range of thinking — from the keyboard, which I began as a 2-year-old, going through baton, tap, gypsy, (studying) German. As I say, elocution, shorthand. All of these things you could learn. All of these things could be somehow valuable.... All of my lessons have proved invaluable. Moms are just always right.”
