Town without pity
Wigfield unleashes
a village of the dammed.
By Johnny Ray Huston
RETINAL CANCER PATIENTS might remember casting an eye or two upon
Jerri Blank, the bisexual 46-year-old "user, boozer, and loser"
high school student at the center of the recent Comedy Central sitcom
Strangers with Candy. Few people are as loveably scary as Jerri. Those
few people are the citizens of Wigfield, a town portrayed in the new illustrated
book Wigfield: The Can-Do Town That Just May Not (Hyperion).
What, exactly, is Wigfield like? It's a humble hamlet where serial
killers outnumber survivors, where strip clubs rub up against used-tire
stores, and where the only bookstores are pornographic. "It's the
kind of place that if a person were in a car not paying attention he'd
probably pass through never realizing what he'd missed," Russell
Hokes writes. "Or if a person were driving through and paying attention
he might drive faster hoping to ignore what he had just seen."
I quote so liberally from Hokes the journalist who claims to
have authored much of Wigfield because I've learned one
of his most valuable lessons, demonstrated time and again in the book:
if you reprint passages from other people's writing and quote interview
subjects verbatim, you'll reach your word count much quicker. To fulfill
the interview portion of my arduous task, I called up Strangers with
Candy's Paul Dinello and Amy Sedaris. Rumor has it they (along with
frequent collaborator Stephen Colbert) might have something to do with
Wigfield the town, Wigfield the book, and Wigfield the
upcoming page-to-stage show.
Bay Guardian: Wigfield author Russell Hokes seems ambitious
about fame, if not writing. How does he feel about the fact that his
book now has your names on it?
Amy Sedaris: He tries to take control of the stage version of
Wigfield. There's a projection behind us that says "Wigfield
by Russell Hokes," so the asshole is getting some credit.
BG: Who would Hokes list as his greatest literary influences?
Paul Dinello: Hemingway, certainly. Not because of the writing
because of the lifestyle.
BG: Among Wigfield's community of strippers, I noticed that
Raven has the hairiest arms. Do you know why?
PD: I wouldn't be surprised if it has something to do with the
water. There's a lot of stuff floating around: Wigfield is close to
the plutonium ditch and lead-dispersal plant. I guess there's a rumor
that Raven isn't actually a woman. But no one wants to believe that,
because she is the most attractive person in town.
BG: Unlike Wigfield, San Francisco doesn't have three mayors.
But it does have more than three people running for mayor. In fact,
a few have been running for mayor for so long that they've been swallowed
up George Jetson-style by the mayoral treadmill. If Wigfield could loan
one of its mayors to S.F., which one do you think would fit the city
best?
PD: They each have their minor strengths and incredible weaknesses.
Charles Halstead is good-hearted and easily manipulated. I think he'd
be the least detrimental. At least he's controllable if you have
sweets within arm's reach.
BG: Does Mayor Halstead have a favorite brand of fudge or
chocolate bar?
AS: I think he'll eat anything that's brown. It's his favorite
color.
BG: While you were creating Wigfield, did the townsfolk
begin to invade your dreams at night?
PD: For me, a couple of them crept in occasionally. I gotta
say that Mae Ella Padgett is pretty scary. She's the most feisty of
the group. She lies the best. You'd never see her coming she's
like a coiled snake. She's tiny, but you don't want to underestimate
her. She has the appearance of a raisin, but she's got the bite of a
cobra. And she's war-weary.
BG: Amy, how do Paul and Stephen differ from your brother
David as collaborators? Do you have to discipline each other differently?
AS: With David, it's just the two of us; Steve and Paul are
more like the guys who chop the wood, and later I'm allowed to come
in and decorate.
PD: Steve and I have to ride Amy roughshod. It's like working
with a monkey. She has the attention span of a flea. If fleas have a
short attention span I'd assume they do. Who knows, they probably
have a great attention span.
BG: What's the funniest tragic event you've noticed in the
news lately?
PD: SARS was a hoot. I have this great photo from China of some
girls doing a ballet; they're wearing matching pink tutus and matching
blue surgical masks. They look like they're performing in Wigfield.
Tragedy is never funny, but the aftermath often is how people
react and how they try to take advantage of it. There's a World Trade
Center lawsuit in which a guy is trying to claim that the attack was
actually two separate incidents, so he can double up his insurance money.
BG: Amy, what's the prize facial or torso disfigurement among
the ones you've collected in your prop bag?
AS: It's funny, as we're talking right now, I'm doing a photo
shoot for a jewelry ad, and I'm in a lily dress; it's green with pink
bamboo trees on it. I have a wig that's so stylized, blowing off one
side of my head. I'm really tanned, and I have makeup on like Angie
Dickinson. I love disguise kits; I need that one thing to hide behind.
Some people might think of that as a weakness, but that doesn't bother
me.
BG: You seem to have an Angie Dickinson fixation.
AS: I'd love to redo Police Woman.
BG: I saw an amazing Lifetime movie starring her recently.
It's called Deep Family Secrets. She's this boozy matriarch of
a Southern family who loses her mind and goes missing for days at a
time. How are things progressing with the movie version of Strangers
with Candy?
PD: We're still at the outlining stage, trying to figure out
how much of Jerri's past to include.
BG: Her past could swallow the movie whole, I would think.
PD: I know, it's unbelievable. We could serialize the movie
because one year of her life is like 20 years of someone else's. Someone
asked Jerri where she was when Kennedy got shot, and she said, "I
was hauling my ass out of Dallas." She's happened to be in the
wrong place at the wrong time throughout history.
BG: I missed one of Amy's recent appearances on Conan
O'Brien, so I have to ask: what does Dick Clark look like when he's
really scared?
AS: He looks like a currant. You can tell that inside he's not
what he looks like outside. But I give him credit; he's doing the upkeep.
It was funny to meet him he was horrified, petrified. I didn't
know he was going to be on the show until I was getting ready backstage
and I heard him say, "Rockin' New Year's Eve!" Once I heard
it, I couldn't get it out of my head, so I kept saying it to him.
BG: Are there any things you're looking forward to doing
in S.F.?
PD: The last time I was in S.F. was about two days after the
earthquake hit [in 1989], so the city was a little devastated, and we
were doing a comedy act. I did wander around Chinatown, and people seemed
relatively unscathed relatively unaware.
BG: Amy, will you be selling cupcakes and cheese balls in
the lobby at your S.F. performances?
AS: I'm afraid I can't because I don't travel with my mixer.
In New York I do, though. I'm obsessed with making them. Obsessed. Whenever
I'm done making some, I think, "OK, you can make 24 more."
I love selling them because I love counting money after a show: "67,
68, 69 get out, you guys!" I love that I have money to count
and the audience doesn't.
'Wigfield' plays Wed/30-Thurs/31, 8 p.m., Post Street Theatre,
450 Post, S.F. $35. (415) 321-2900.