Bobcat Goldthwait talks Bigfoot, Barry Crimmins, and David Bowie
Bobcat Goldthwait performs at the Laughing Skull Lounge Thurs., March 17 through Sun., March 20.
Photo credit: Photo by Robyn Von Swank
I recently watched Willow Creek again. Do you have a legitimate fascination with Bigfoot?
As a kid I was always fascinated with Bigfoot. I feel like I made Willow Creek for the 10 year old me. It was an excuse to explore where the Patterson–Gimlin footage was shot. It was a lot of fun going there and making the movie. The real gem: When I watch a Tarantino movie there are these suspenseful scenes where nothing is happening, but you’re on the edge of your seat. So I though, can I scare people like that? Can I make them feel that uncomfortable? Also, I just want to make a lot of different kinds of movies.
It doesn’t get more Americana than the towns you pass through with that film.
That’s true, and that was part of it for me. I’d originally wanted to make a movie about a Bigfoot convention — kind of my take on a Christopher Guest movie. When I got there, I thought so many of these folks would be so good in a movie. But I didn’t want to do it from a snarky place. A lot of those folks are genuine. I didn’t clue them in. I love that woman who works at the info booth: The biggest source of income for that town — aside from growing pot — is Bigfoot and here she is, a non-believer. It’s like going to Disneyland and the person working the front gate tells you that Mickey isn’t real.
Tom Yamarone has been called the Bob Dylan of Bigfoot songs. Did you meet him while making this movie?
I met him while making the movie, and we’ve gone out looking for Bigfoot. He became a buddy. Man, it’s a really interesting subculture. You know, I always identify with the misfits and the oddballs. We’ve gone out in the woods a few times. I didn’t get to do it this year because I was caught up in Call Me Lucky. ... It’s funny, I made a really heavy documentary film about my friend Barry Crimmins, but everybody wants to talk about Bigfoot, which is fine. What’s funny is I did the Bigfoot movie and then I did the Barry Crimmins movie. The thing that people are saying is that I must be obsessed with hairy men.
When I looked into the Barry Crimmins film I saw an IMDB blurb that referred to you as “celebrated director Bobcat Goldthwait.” That has to feel good.
It does feel good, but it’s strange because the celebration is very small. I’ve noticed lately where more people are becoming aware that I make movies. I know that when my name comes up it’s usually followed by “of Police Academy.” But it’s nice that people are discovering me as a director.
I’m sitting here right now, talking on the phone, and on the coat rack by my couch is a Police Academy 2 silk jacket that was a promo gift. How seriously can I take myself knowing that I come from such humble roots?
The skateboarding scenes from Police Academy 4 are forever burned into my brain.
Ha! I ran into Tony Hawk once. I was surprised that he remembered me, and he was so nice. And I just remember David Spade being speechless around those guys. He was totally in awe. Spade and I would go out and do comedy sets at night in the local clubs in Toronto when we were there filming. At the time, I hadn’t been exposed to skateboarding culture. I didn’t understand why these guys brought their skateboards into the club. Later in life I became friends with guys from Big Brother.
That movie was majorly influential on my life. Skateboarding was an exotic thing in the ’80s. There were no X-Games. It wasn’t an Olympic sport, and when cops and rednecks saw you skateboarding they came after you. I remember making a VHS tape of those scenes and studying it with my friends, trying to figure out how to do all of those tricks.
That’s weird, but it’s totally true. It’s funny how skateboarding just wasn’t being covered. Police Academy 4 was a gateway drug!
You’re really hustling these days: You make movies, you’ve directed episodes of Jimmy Kimmel, episodes of Louie, you’re on the road doing standup. This is what you love, but I have to imagine it gets grueling. Does the work itself keep you going?
I’m always doing standup. That’s how I pay my bills, so I don’t have to get involved with projects that I’m ashamed of later. I did enough of that as a youngin (laughs).
It’s hard work, but it’s a nice way that I’m able to live. I directed Marc Maron’s last comedy special. Getting to work with someone who’s a peer, and someone I respect, makes this a really cool job. I’m not pursuing big network TV jobs where there’s a lot of money. I don’t want to be part of that machine. I do want to show up for work and have a good time working with people I like.
With feature films? I’m working on a few of them. One is a stop motion movie, which I have my fingers crossed on that one. The other two are completely different. Ray Davies of the Kinks: I’ve been talking about it for a while, but it’s going to cost a lot more than the other screenplays that I’ve written. Another one is kind of a personal movie — I wanted to do a movie basically about being our age and making the decision to still live a creative life. It would be easier for me going for the money rather than living the life that I live.
You mentioned the Ray Davies movie. We did an interview almost five years ago. Even then you told me you wanted to make a film based on the Kinks album School Boys In Disgrace.
That’s right, and I haven’t given up on it. I might try to put it up on its feet. Do the equivalent of a table read. I might put it up on a small theatre so investors can see what I have in mind. I like that album because half of it is ’60s Kinks and the other half is ’70s Kinks. When I talked to Ray about it he said that album didn’t sell well.
And that’s sort of the thing: To be our age and lose the cynicism. Now we have experience, which is this toolbox to make and do with the people that we want to work with. I had my daughter when I was in my early 20s. Now she’s an adult and we work on stuff together. She’s a costumer and she works on my movies. And we have mutual friends now. She hangs out with a lot of comedians and comics.
... And she probably hears wild tales about her father in the ’80s, screaming in films and on stages around the country.
Yeah, I think people had this perception that I was really high back then, but I wasn’t. However, when you light a stick of dynamite in the back yards it does tend to scar those around you.
That sounds like a good story!
I remember how horrified everybody was — this one time we put a half stick of dynamite in a watermelon and it blew up. There was a guy who clearly had broken a bone in his hand when it went off. But he was ok. Everything was fine … My earlier acts were just a guy going on stage, doing a comedy set, and then I would start crying. My wife is so fat. How fat is she. Then I morphed into a story teller. But I don’t feel like I was doing an act that isn’t me. That was an extension of me — I was angry and terrified.
You have worked closely with music over the years, too.
I’ve had this very forced thing around music. I toured with Nirvana because Kurt Cobain was a fan of my standup. I met them before they broke, when they were touring in Ann Arbor. He gave me a copy of Bleach. We kept in touch. A year and-a-half later I was opening for them in giant arenas. We always had that relationship.
And it was odd when Bowie died. I hadn’t seen him in years. But when he died people kept coming at me saying, “I met Bowie at your place!” It’s interesting because he certainly was aware that he was well known and famous, but I think he would’ve been surprised by the outpouring from so many people, and the impact he made after many so many years. One of the things I really liked about him was that he was really into new art, new music, new anything. He wasn’t trying to blow people’s minds. He just generally had this huge insatiable appetite for things that were different and new.
Have you listened to Black Star?
No, and that’s sort of the thing. My daughter says she has no memories of ever hearing Nirvana played around the house when she was growing up. I didn’t play it. We were friends, and I remember one time hearing a Nirvana song and thinking whoa … this really is great. It’s kind of the same way with Bowie. People tell me the album is great, and I will give it a listen, but not now.
How did you meet David Bowie?
He had seen some footage of me in San Francisco, back when it was pure rage on stage. He called in the middle of the night, and he may have had a few cordials in him. But I remember my brother was pissed off because someone called claiming to be David Bowie.
The next day, a much more sober David Bowie called and offered me tickets to a show — it was the Glass Spider Tour. It was a big theatrical thing. I went with Tom Kenny who does the voice of Sponge Bob. I remember after the show we got to meet him. He asked us what we thought of the show. Tom said it was like watching the musical Pippin. I thought it was more like watching Guys and Dolls. After that was said he looked at us for a second and threw his head back and laughed really hard. Like, are these guys really busting my balls, right to my face? It probably hadn’t happened in years.
I was around him sometimes when he was recording. He wanted to do a Dean Martin kind of Jerry Lewis act where he was trying to sing and I interrupted him. He said: “We’ll rehearse it and do it in small venues.” But it’s David Bowie. He was looking at 1,500 seat theaters in the mid ’90s. That sounds great. But in the mid ’80s I was way too precious for that. They would have killed me. It would have been fun. It’s in his passing that I realized we were so close. I’ve heard it from so many friends — there’s a link where Dennis Leary is talking to Jimmy Kimmel. He’s telling Kimmel about the time he met Bowie and the first thing Bowie did was ask him about me! It’s funny when you don’t keep in touch with friends, you realize we really were close.