I’ m a Jersey guy, born and raised. Went to Catholic Schools, most of my friends growing up were Italian or Irish. Artie Lange may be a few years younger than me, and a product of a different county (Essex), but I feel I know him. Not personally, he’s just familiar to me, from his book, Too Fat To Fish, which I recommend, his work on the Stern Show and his films. I’m not a television watcher or go to comedy clubs, so his stand up I’m not as familiar, but he’s damn funny. I felt surprisingly worried when I heard he had been hospitalized I posted a quote from his book, and then the next day the real story was released—a suicide attempt.
“...Lange's mother found him on the floor of his home on Saturday. Competello says the 42-year-old comedian was unconscious but breathing after stabbing himself with a 13-inch Wolfgang Puck kitchen knife. Doctors at Jersey City Medical Center cleaned nine abdominal knife wounds and operated. He says Lange has been released.”
The grisly details enhance the shock value. Stabbed himself nine times. Wolfgang Puck knife? Pretty close to home, not just geographically. Too Fat To Fish, an autobiography, details his life growing up in New Jersey, a blue collar middle class, classically Italian-American. He likes to party, loves sports, loves to gamble on sports, is good naturedly arrogant and loves to busts chops and happily endures getting his chops busted in return. But, like many cats, he has a compulsion to be the life of the party, at the heart of and the impetus of the action. Even when you’re laughing with your friend, you want to tell him, stop pushing it, stop denying that you’re a nice guy, a sensitive, thoughtful human being.
In the book, Lange openly idolizes his parents, especially his father, who when Lange is in his late teens, becomes a quadriplegic after falling from the roof of a house. Artie witnesses the decay of this beloved authority figure, obviously a factor as his bad habits start to show signs of growing out of control. There are chapters working as a long shore man in Port Newark, a good paying job that he quits to pursue a career in comedy. The chapters about working on MADTV, Dirty Work and Beer League I don’t like as much—they’re not as unique. Several of his cocaine stories are familiar to Stern listeners. The book concludes in triumph—Lange is on the Stern show, achieves success in show business, kicks heroin, clean and sober and brings his comedy act on a USO tour to the troops in Afghanistan. Lange's adoration of the soldiers he meets is sincere and moving. This final note of redemption resonates. Many comics and comic writers and directors follow the dictum that nothing is funnier than real life. Lange, like Stern, and other contemporary comic artists like Kevin Smith, take it another step further—always go for real even when it is more real than funny. They will go for the joke, eventually but not incessantly. There is comedy to be found in tragedy—in fact, in real life, humor helps us survive tragedy. Life is funnier than jokes, and Lange’s book, similar to Stern’s book Private Parts (much better than the movie, which I liked), follows this philosphy and though genuinely amusing, it’s an overall satisfying read because authenticity is never sacrificed for a quick or obvious laugh.
The New Jersey stories are the most fascinating. I lived in Elizabeth for a while there in the 80s. I’m not sure if it was the era or the area, but there was criminal activity—drugs, bookies, prostitution, stolen goods for sale—readily available and taking place, hiding in plain sight, of what passed for respectable middle class life. Lange’s story occurs within the context of that familiar place. One chapter in explicitly sordid detail recounts a bachelor party which will ring true for any guy who has ever had the misfortune of attending an anything goes, coke and booze fueled bachelor party in North Jersey. Lange has a way of making us laugh at the fact that what makes such an event appealing also makes it appalling.
At the core of the book is a poignant, very dramatic confession. Lange’s very real suicide attempt. That chapter ends:
“...Thank God I didn’t succeed, because I think that it’s a terribly selfish act for anyone who has people that love them in their life.
This hasn’t been easy for me to get out, and I’m still ashamed of my actions that night. I can’t believe I’m putting this out into the world, but I made a promise to myself to do it and I’m going to keep it. I don’t think admitting my suicide attempt publicly is going to help me as a talent or as a performer, and I don’t want to be any kind of role model, model, but I do hope that this story helps somebody else. There is one thing I’ve learned the hard way in this life: If you can’t help making stupid mistakes yourself, you can try to stop other people from making them.”
Lange’s comic persona is coarse—just like a lot of blue collar guys, but he has a self awareness that is honest and self deprecating, even when it is filled with prideful arrogance. His over looked film, Beer League—which has the best comic performance by Seymour Cassell in his long and stellar career—is both an honest look at Guido Culture, celebrating it but also criticizing it. The film has a convincing realism to the story that say, Moonstruck lacks. Beer League is like Dodge Ball directed by Kevin Smith.
Everybody has demons, the cliché goes. Lange though has a natural talent, intelligence and insight. A guy I grew up with, a several years older than me, Italian dude, committed suicide in the 90s, like Lange, in his early 40s. I was reminded of him reading Too Fat To Fish. He had substance abuse issues, owed money to bookies in Paterson. Worked crappy jobs most of his life, yet could quote Eugene O’Neal. Something about New Jersey can turn us into our own worst enemies.
Suicide may be romantic and looks like a way to escape pain, but what it does to the family—I’ve seen this first hand—it’s just devastating. Utterly horrible. He is right about the selfishness of the act. In Too Fat To Fish—and on the Stern show—Lange has been quite honest about his devotion to his mother and sister, which is what made the news about the suicide attempt so astonishing. The book came out in 2008, I thought he was over that dark side. But, like most everybody, healing your soul takes a life time. I just hope he can stop himself from making this stupid mistake again.
Lange is more than a celebrity, he is an original talent who universalizes the Jersey Experience.
We need him.
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