The resurrection of Kathy Griffin
The publicist has interrupted three times, trying to draw our phone interview to a close, but Kathy Griffin is on a roll. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” the outspoken comedian protests when I compare her, to her great horror, with country act The Dixie Chicks.
The Dixie Chicks, you may recall, were greeted with furor in the early days of the millennium when they spoke out against war-mongering president George W. Bush, just as Griffin endured blowback over a provocative self-portrait holding what appeared to be Donald Trump’s bloody severed head.
“I’M F——ED!” she continues, yelling . . . indecipherable.
I don’t take it personally. It’s the way she talks: bold, profane, with capital letters, four-letter words and loads of exclamation points.
Excited about her upcoming Canadian tour, she’s also the best friend I never knew I had: forthright, funny, relentlessly honest and, in her own way, touchingly vulnerable. If she’s chewing me out, it’s for fear of being misunderstood.
“The Fox News machine started saying I’m a member of ISIS!” she notes with incredulity.
“The nuts at Breitbart (far-right news service) and people who think Hillary Clinton ran a sex ring out of a pizza parlour were coming after me full bore.
“Where the f— were all these guys when images were going out of Obama being lynched and headless?”
Sensing a lull in her outrage, I
ask where she gets her fearlessness.
She laughs. “I think I just displayed it. Because clearly any publicist would say, ‘Why are you yelling at a Canadian reporter?’”
She loves Canadians, she points out, because instead of a “crazy orange monster nutjob” as our leader, we elected the poster boy for male enlightenment.
And because Ontario-born comedian Jim Carrey called in her time of need and said “Kathy, today you’re the most famous comedian in the world. Use it!”
And because, frankly, as a nation, we “get” it.
“The fearlessness comes from having been through so much sh—,” she continues, eager to squash misconceptions.
“You honestly get to a point where you go ‘F— it, what more can they do to me?’” What haven’t they done?
After the Trump Halloween mask fiasco last May, she lost sponsorship deals, talk show spots and her New Year’s hosting gig on CNN, faced death threats and an aborted American tour, landed on security watch lists and was investigated by the FBI for conspiracy to assassinate the president — and this was after she apologized.
In what may have been the toughest blow, she was publicly denounced by CNN anchor Anderson Cooper, who shrugged off 15 years of friendship like a stubborn hangnail.
“This wasn’t The Dixie Chicks, where left-wing liberals wrapped their arms around me,” she explains, circling back to my earlier contention. “Oh no, they came after me just as hard!
“They weren’t putting me on the cover of Entertainment Weekly or Time magazine as a hero of the First Amendment. Everyone turned on me — left, right and centre. I was on my own.
“But the truth is, it is actually a First Amendment issue.”
Freedom of speech. Freedom to bite the hand that feeds. Freedom to not have your career (and life) destroyed by a vengeful politician whose slack-jawed minions can’t take a joke.
“I got a call from one or two friends saying this picture is blowing up,” she recalls of the moment that, in retrospect, was the turning point.
“And I swear to god, I went back to bed. I just didn’t think it was a big deal. I thought ‘This thing is gonna have a two-day shelf life.’”
As it became increasingly clear her career was in jeopardy, that her tearful apology wouldn’t be accepted, that the public shaming wasn’t going end, you could sense her turn toward panic.
“Real legit news outlets were going ‘Comedian Kathy Griffin was photographed holding Trump’s severed head!’” she recalls, dumbfounded still.
“That was Phase 1.Then it got kicked down to ‘Comedian Kathy Griffin was photographed holding a severed head.’
“Can I just clear up one thing? I don’t have a severed head! There are no severedhead stores! There’s no severed-head warehouse that comedians go and get heads! It was a mask. And I believe I had a styrofoam wig thing behind it. But it got so crazy!”
If there’s one point she’d like to make on her current Canadian tour, it’s to be thankful for what you’ve got.
“I just want to say to the lovely people of Kitchener just shut your pieholes if Justin Trudeau wears an Indian-insensitive outfit,” she cracks, referring to a recent scandal over cultural appropriation.
“I want you sons of b-ches to be grateful that the worst thing you guys got your panties in a bunch about is that Trudeau had an embarrassing picture that looked like he was in a boy band.
“At least you guys have free and open elections. We’re actually not technically a democracy anymore. We’re more of a kleptocracy, maybe authoritarian.”
Given her revulsion by all things Trump, it must be asked: Why the hell did she apologize?
“I got a call from Rosie O’Donnell who said, ‘What if Daniel Pearl’s mother sees this?’” she confides, referencing the American journalist publicly beheaded by Pakistani terrorists.
“Having performed in war zones, of course I thought ‘Oh my gosh!’ If you’re someone who’s been touched by this very serious issue, then of course I feel horrible.”
She pauses thoughtfully. “You know, I know Trump. I’ve known him for 20 years. He’s hired me to roast him twice — not once but twice. It’s not like this fool doesn’t know my brand or what I do.”
It makes sense that intolerant Trump supporters would crack down on a woman who failed to show proper respect. But why did Democrats throw her under the bus?
“America is a misogynist and sexist and ageist place for certain people,” she insists, recounting numerous examples of male celebrities who committed greater sins without an ounce of retribution.
“That’s it. And I’m sorry if people are going to get mad at me, because I don’t give a fuuuuuu— (trills in a high singing voice).”
Rueful laugh: “It’s turning into ‘The Handmaid’s Tale’ so fast. I’m gonna get that red dress probably tomorrow.”
Griffin isn’t a monster. Even as she rants in her hilariously irreverent way, you can sense the hurt and betrayal, the pain of rejection.
“It sucks, man. To hear (left-wing activists) like Don Cheadle and Jeffrey Wright — people I respect — say I ruined The Resistance. Oh, calm the f— down. I didn’t think I ruined The Resistance.”
She sighs with exasperation: “I’ve taken many outrageous photos. It’s not my day job. I’m a standup comedian and TV star and two-time Emmy winner and Grammy winner, one of only three women in history to win Best Comedy Album.
“I’m in the Guinness Book of World Records for having more TV standup comedy specials than any comedian, male or female, living or dead.
“And the reason I do all this sh— , believe it or not, is that I’m at a phase of my career when I want younger women, the LGBT community, people of colour, the disenfranchised to look at me and go, ‘Wow, this 57-year-old chick sold out Carnegie Hall in 24 hours!’
“So I’m on a comedy mission now, going worldwide, town to town, saying ‘If it could happen to me, it could happen to you!”
That’s the theme of her aptly-titled “Laugh Your Head Off” tour, which — interspersed with caustic witticisms and pointed takes on celebrity — promises to be anything but morose.
“I think enough time has passed that people are getting some perspective,” she allows with a note of optimism.
“Some people are expressing to me, ‘I’m just gonna come to your show to support you. I don’t really know your work that well, but I can’t wait to hear an American f—ing pop off on Trump.’”
Another cackle. “In Kitchener, where the tech people are, I’m quoting (social media influencer) Sheryl Sandburg about ‘leaning in.’
“I take them inside the interrogation. I’m still on the f—ing Interpol list, so I’m sure I’ll be stopped at your border just like I’m stopped at every f—ing border ... (pause) ... too much swearing, sorry.”
Her publicist, increasingly agitated, sticks his nose in again: “Time to wrap up!”
“All right,” says Griffin, ignoring him once again. “When are you gonna run this?”
I hesitate. “I don’t know — a week before the show?”
“Oh my god, Joel, can’t you do it tomorrow? I need to sell tickets, for Christ’s sake!”
“I can talk to my editor ...”
“What if I’m jail before that? You better get that story out before then. What if I’m at The Hague for war crimes?” You’re going to The Hague?
“I’m just saying.” She laughs. “Don’t make me come home and say I didn’t sell out Kitchener.”