Judd: And then it aired and the ratings were—
Roseanne: Number one. It premiered at number three, and then it took Cosby. I think it was because I had done The Tonight Show and I had done so well there and people wanted to see it. It went to three first and then it took Cosby and then that was it.
Judd: Then you had the moment where you’re like, “Okay, now here’s how we’re going to do it.”
Roseanne: It was that voice that I always have with me. I said, “Either he goes…,” and they knew. So they go, “Well, he’ll go, but he’s not going until [episode] thirteen.” So that was seven more or something. And I’m like, Oh, how am I going to fucking make it through that? And it was tough, but that voice came in and it’s like, Make a list of everybody who you’re going to fire the minute that you’re at fourteen. So I did. I hung it on my door. I still have it. I said, “These people will not be here next year,” and it was big so whoever walked by would see it. And they were all gone the next year, including the network president. So it was sheer will and hate and bitterness. And because it was about my kids, and I looked at it like a mom looks at it, you know. It was a fight. My husband at the time told me, “Shut up and take it. You’re never going to get this chance again. Shut your fucking mouth and just do it.” And I’m like, the only other person I knew then were comics and Tom Arnold, you know. And Tom was like, “Fuck them.” I wanted to hear that. So I ended up getting with him and everything. I unleashed him.
Judd: How do you look back at that time—because, creatively, those first Tom years were really strong.
Roseanne: I think we had three really good years before that, too.
Judd: He came on at the end of season four?
Roseanne: The end of season three. And everyone hated him so he didn’t—it was like season four that we got the comics on instead of TV writers. I always wanted that. I loved funny people over story people. It was about the jokes and I like jokes. Jokes were the only reason we were ever on that long.
Judd: How many good Tom years were there?
Roseanne: Zero good years.
Judd: Was it just batshit crazy the whole time?
Roseanne: A living hell. Unfuckingbelievable living hell. Like I didn’t have enough troubles? Now I’ve got a drug addict running around my fucking house? You know, then I’m getting a divorce and kids are in my house. Just not fucking good at all. But at work, it was fun. Because it was like, I want this, let’s try this, let’s try that. It was like, Let’s fucking take this down. I want gays on the air. I wanted a teenage girl who was negative like I was.
Judd: What are the parts of the show that you look back at with the most pride?
Roseanne: From the first battle, it seemed like—I felt like Wonder Woman battling back the Nazis or whatever, it was kind of like that. It was Halloween and they wouldn’t let me do a show on Halloween. Because they said the Bible Belt doesn’t like Halloween; they think it’s witches and shit. So I’m like, “Well, then I’m a witch. And I want Halloween.” I just, I couldn’t stand people saying what the fuck I could do. The next thing was an unemployed husband. They didn’t like that, either. They didn’t like smart-mouthed Darlene. They didn’t like Darlene. And you know, so Darlene was a big one for me because I’m Darlene. I was Darlene! That’s who I was, you know.
Judd: Did you feel like it was an honest depiction of working-class America?
Roseanne: I liked that it was like, This shit sucks. That was real to me. And also, I wanted to show a different kind of love that wasn’t that phony bullshit love. It was love through bad things. I was on a fucking mission for sure. I felt like the Messiah and Wonder Woman all rolled up into one. I felt like Robin Hood. I felt like Jesus. Plus, I had a killer cast that could make anything. I had great writers. Christ, I’ll never get that again. It was like the real golden age, another golden age of television. Today they want no part of anything having to do with class on TV. No part.
Judd: Why do you think that is?
Roseanne: Because it’s too true.
Judd: I think the paradox of being a comedian is you become a comedian because, on some level, you’re so insecure that you need people’s approval. And then you put yourself in a position where you can get an enormous amount of disapproval but it’s worth the risk because—
Roseanne: The damn indignity.
Judd: I’m going to risk making a movie and maybe the world will tell me they hate me. Like, I want some love but I might get some hate. And there are certain people who are like totally fine with that. But there’s craziness in it, too.
Roseanne: Well, I think you’ve got to get like that.
Judd: Is that healthy or is it also detached in some way?
Roseanne: All of it is just too hard. But when you’re doing it—I remember I asked my rabbi that once. I said, “Does this shit ever stop? You know, the crazy?” And he said, “It stops when you’re doing it.” And I thought, Well, Christ, isn’t that right?
SANDRA BERNHARD (1983)
Martin Scorsese’s The King of Comedy came out when I was fifteen, in early 1983, and it quickly became a formative movie of my childhood—and my adulthood, too, for that matter. As a kid, I was so fascinated by the stories about the making of it, especially the ones about how this young unknown woman, Sandra Bernhard, had improvised the majority of her part and, in doing so, put the great Jerry Lewis in many situations and moments that he had not been in before. That blew my mind. I interviewed Sandra not long after the movie came out, when she was on the cusp of a new, more mainstream kind of stardom. I had seen her on Letterman—she was a regular guest in the early eighties—and her appearances were always electric and surprising and, in terms of comedic personality, groundbreaking. There was never anyone like Sandra then, and now that I think about it, there’s never been anyone like her since.
Judd Apatow: Okay, here we go. So how has your life changed since The King of Comedy?
Sandra Bernhard: In my career? Well, probably the most important thing that has changed is that I can get interviews for things. People are interested in finding other films for me.
Judd: Is that what you’ve been doing, reading scripts?
Sandra: Yeah, reading scripts and developing things of my own.
Judd: And now you’re getting stand-up jobs everywhere?
Sandra: Yeah, but I’m not going to be doing comedy clubs anymore. I’m doing more musically, developing my act more as a whole package, as opposed to just comedy.
Judd: Do you get recognized on the street?
Sandra: A lot. I’ve always been looked at because I have one of those kinds of faces—people think they know me. But now, it’s like they do. So it’s kind of neat.
Judd: What do they say?
Sandra: Oh, well, most people are just incredibly supportive, and say, “God, I loved you in the film, it was a wonderful performance.” You know, lots of good.
Judd: How did you get that part?
Sandra: I auditioned for it out in L.A., along with lots of other actresses. And then I met De Niro and Scorsese over a period of two months.
Judd: Were they intimidating?
Sandra: No, because I really wasn’t that into their films at the time. I walked in just sort of, “Oh, hi.” Real casual.
Judd: How about Jerry Lewis?
Sandra: He was more intimidating than they were.