Written by Catherine Kustanczy
Thursday, 16 July 2009 11:39
For all the times John Leguizamo has made people laugh, he says his biggest inspirations aren’t comics, but thinkers.
“I was lucky being in New York in the late 80s,” he says, eyes widening, “it was a confluence of influences, with people like Eric Bogosian, Lily Tomlin, Whoopi Goldberg, Spalding Grey –they became my heroes. I always love giving them a shout-out. I wouldn’t be here without their groundbreaking work.”

The feisty, passionate actor is in Toronto as part of the third annual Just for Laughs Festival. After a string of successful solo stage works, including the Tony-nominated
Freak, which detailed his complex relationship with his father, he brings Leguizamo Live to Just For Laughs this year. It runs at the Berkeley Street Theatre through July 18th.
The actor, known for his work in films like
Spawn,
To Wong Foo, Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar, and
Romeo + Juliet, calls his latest work a play –“yes, strongly” –and like any good theatre artist, he’s fine-tuning bits and bobs as he goes along. He recently removed one section that skewered a well-known actor; it’s indicative of the nature of the show, one that mocks past associates and fellow celebrities with a zeal few would dare do publicly.
“Actors don’t like to be talked about in any unflattering way,” he says earnestly, “they’re very protective of images, very sensitive… “ He lets out a laugh, perhaps realizing he might be talking about himself. “They’re hyper-sensitive!”
The show is the stage version of his 2008 book
Pimps, Hos, Playa Hatas and All the Rest of My Hollywood Friends, a work that isn’t afraid of naming names or pointing fingers. Yet for all that he pokes fun at a few well-known folks (you’ll have to come to the show to find out just who), he says Leguizamo Live is really about him coming to terms with his own bad behaviour. “It’s about trying to find the right mix of ingredients in the stories,” he explains, “it’s not like I was a victim of these things or just being a bully, either. I had a lot to do with bringing upon myself these fights and arguments. So it’s my discovery, [about] how I’m a participant: ‘How did I bring this upon myself?’ It’s me taking responsibility.”
The show marks the first time Leguizamo has been part of a comedy festival. While grateful, he’s quick to avoid the ‘comedian’ label. He says he “definitely” sees more theatre than stand-up comedy.
“I’ve never done a comedy festival before,” he confesses, “this is my first time.
“I love comics, don’t get me wrong… but I’m more a storyteller, I’m not a J.P.M. (jokes per minute) guy. I respect that, but it’s not my thing. I do plays, acting –some of it happens to be funny. That’s, I guess, why people think I’m a comedian.”
But he says the labelling isn’t something he’s interested in. He’s eager to experiment and see how his work changes and transforms through touring. “I thought, let me try it. I wanted to venture forth from New York –I’m very New York-centric -and see what it was like to be outside of America doing my stuff.” So far, his only other stop has been New Haven, Connecticut. From Toronto, Leguizamo travels to Santa Fe, New Mexico, then Tucson, Arizona. He’s even had an offer to perform the show in Australia.

Leguizamo has written for the stage before. In 1998, his deeply personal one-man show
Freak garnered two Tony nominations, and later an Emmy when it was produced for television. His other semi-autobiographical works,
Mambo Mouth,
Spic-O-Rama, and
Sexaholix, garnered wide acclaim, and are regularly performed by theatre students across North America. Still, he is perhaps best known for his film work, which has run the gamut from playing gangster Benny Blanco in Brian De Palma’s
Carlito’s Way with Al Pacino to lending his voice to Sid the Sloth in the animated
Ice Age movies. He also had his own short-lived comedy show in the 1990s,
House of Buggin, and has made memorable appearances (including one as “Captain Vegetable”) on
Sesame Street.
It’s precisely this kind of variety is precisely the sort of thing that’s kept Leguizamo interested in his art. That and the opportunity to work with people he admires and has developed a rapport with. “I’ve had chances to work with great directors –more than once, which is a great compliment. I’ve worked with Baz (Luhrman) twice, Tony Scott twice, and Brian de Palma twice. When you know somebody and you’re comfortable, you catch each other and help each other go further. At the first meeting, there’s a lot of mistrust, but you get used to trusting each other, once you know each other.” He cites
Carlito’s Way director Brian De Palma for enabling him to give a performance he hadn’t been able to achieve on-film before.
The sort of mutually trusting, supportive relationships to which Leguizamo refers is parallel to the experience of doing theatre, which emphasizes community, connection, and most of all immediacy. Leguizamo was trained in the method acting style, and studied at the Lee Strasberg institute. He names Herbert Bergoff and Uta Hagen for being “great teachers in acting” and for allowing him to experience life in the moment when he’s onstage.
“When I’m out there, I’m really trying to have an experience. I’m trying to really feel something, not trying to present or represent, but actually go through something … I try to see people I’m talking about, places I’m in –it just makes it more exciting for me. If I’m seeing it, (the audience) is seeing it too, if I’m experiencing it, the audience is experiencing it too…”
Still, the concern over who he might be offending lingers. “I heard (Sean) Penn was upset with what I was doing,” he says, as a faraway look comes over his face, “but … when he sees it, he’s not going to be so offended. I want to invite him when it’s ready. See, it’s more about me, and my perception of the world.”
As it develops, Leguizamo says “the story becomes part of my physical and emotional and verbal expression. The three of them really condense and become one.”

Does he ever worry his material, with all its personal probing and autobiographical nature, might veer into narcissism?
“No, it can’t…” he says, pausing, eyebrows furrowing as he turns the idea over. “Narcissism … to me [there]’s a vanity aspect to that. And there’s no vanity in my show –it’s very masochistic and self-deprecating. There’s no trouble with that, I’m not in love with myself. I’m trying to make myself a jolt, make myself laugh and shock myself…”
Still, the defiance within Leguizamo’s work is tangible, too. He isn’t interested in pandering to audiences or in making them feel comfortable, but is more fascinated in exploring a kind of confrontational style of theatre that has touches of Kaufman and Artaud –but the actor/writer uses his own life and experiences as the punching bag.
“I want it to be what I want to say and what I’m trying to say,” he states, “and I need an audience there to see if I’m communicating clearly. Am I communicating? That’s all I’m about. I want to communicate. Whether you like it or not, that’s not my problem.”
And while he doesn’t write and perform his material to purposely work out his life problems, he finds that the act of doing both is incredibly therapeutic.
“I always learn about stuff that’s bugging the f*** out of me,” he says with a droll smile. “You think you’re healed but you’re not… stuff still goes on. Healed once doesn’t mean you’re healed –the emotional scar tissue shrinks up again, and you gotta stretch it out all the time. It feeds me, it feeds my work. And my work is all about shit that’s bothering and troubling me. The more stuff that’s bothering and troubling me, the more I have to write about.”
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