When Richard Kind isn't sidekicking on ‘Everybody's Live,' he's at these L.A. spots

Los Angeles Times

5 days ago

Richard Kind is visibly uneasy.
The 68-year-old actor and comedian has fashioned a career as an ubiquitous presence on-screen with nearly 300 roles under his belt, drawing just enough attention to his supporting turns to make them unforgettable — whether he's playing quirky press secretary Paul Lassiter in 'Spin City,' Larry's eccentric cousin Andy in 'Curb Your Enthusiasm,' an oddball neighbor with an eye problem in 'Only Murders in the Building' or, more recently, the Stephen Sondheim-loving husband of a mob boss in 'Poker Face.'
These days, as John Mulaney settles into his talk show era on Netflix, Kind has also found new cachet as the comedian's sidekick and announcer — a more off-kilter Ed McMahon dedicated to nudging and guffawing to the antics of Mulaney and company. It began with last year's experiment, 'Everybody's in L.A.,' and continued this year with 'Everybody's Live with John Mulaney,' a limited-run, free-for-all celebrity talk show that revels in being low-key absurd — where else can you get a host conducting an entire show with a blindfold on?
The show concluded its 12-week run on Wednesday and aimed to deliver the sort of zany and baffling gag you'd expect from Mulaney: He fought three 14-year-old boys.
This is why Kind is experiencing a mild mid-morning spiral when we meet a couple of weeks before the brawl.
'He better be working out because I'm just horrified about that fight — just horrified,' Kind mutters while shaking his head and picking at a small plate of bananas and peanut butter. 'Truly. I'm so nervous about the fight. I am. I am.'
The thought lingers: 'It's real because, remember, I grew up on Andy Kaufman doing the wrestling thing with the women,' he says, referring to the stunt carried out by the late comedian as part of his touring act and, later, on a 1979 episode of 'Saturday Night Live.' 'Puberty adds strength that prepubescence does not. And since the derivation of it was '100 men versus a gorilla' ... I mean, prepubescent strength versus John is one thing, but 14-year-olds? I don't know. I don't know. I'm not prepared for this. If they ask me to referee, I'm gonna die.'
Nerves aside, its clear that Kind, who began his comedy career pushing for unconventional laughs as a member of Chicago's Second City, enjoys the unexpected comedic thrills 'Everybody's Live' provides. He was roped into a bit where, because of a (fictitious) traumatic brain injury, he believed he was KISS frontman Gene Simmons — he spent the show in a frizzy, jet-black wig and sunglasses, often raising the quintessential rock 'n' roll devil-horns sign. Another episode had him spoofing former NFL coach Bill Belichick's viral interview with CBS Sunday Morning — Kind sported a tattered pullover sweatshirt. There's little preparation, Kind says. To prove it, he eagerly whips out his phone to show the text he received this Tuesday morning that had a rundown of the next day's episode — his first insight into what was to come.
'My joke with John is I love doing this show, except for Wednesdays between 7 and 8 p.m., because that's when it becomes reality,' he says.
The gig has him splitting his time between coasts — he's reprising his role for the upcoming season of 'Only Murders in the Building,' which shoots in New York and started filming in March. Kind admits he has a complicated love story with Los Angeles: 'Being a New Yorker, it's like the Lakers and the Knicks — you are programmed to not like it here. There are some things that I do love here, my friends and I love the work, but there's not much work here anymore.'
Still, we wanted to learn about the quintessential L.A. spots the actor frequents when he's in town — and not holed up on the Sunset Gower Studios for 'Everybody's Live' — or finds special meaning in.
But to sit with Kind, one must be prepared to let the conversation go where it may. He has stories to tell.
Like his first visit to L.A. as a teen while on a cross-country camping expedition with friends — he asked a stranger if he could borrow their surfboard so he could say he surfed in Malibu — or the time when he was living in Hancock Park during 'Spin City's' run and he was held at gunpoint outside his home. 'I got out a car, a guy comes up and says, 'You have a cigarette?' I turn around like an idiot, laugh and go, 'No, I gave it up like a year ago,'' he says. 'Then he pulls out a gun. I put my head down, and I just held out everything and I said, 'It's yours. Take anything you want.' And he did.'
He says the evolution of his L.A. existence can be traced back to two people — Norman Lear and George Clooney — and two unsuccessful TV pilots.
While at Second City, Kind was flown out to L.A. for a Lear TV sitcom pilot, 1984's 'P.O.P.,' about a con artist (Charles Durning) who moves in with his estranged wife (Bea Arthur) and two adult sons. 'I sit down and I talk to Norman Lear for easily half an hour. We're talking about [radio personality] Don Imus and how far can we push the boundaries,' he recalls. 'Because I was at Second City, and I had my finger on the pulse of the audience every night with what we could do and things like that. And he's taking me in and wanting my opinion.' The pilot floundered, but Kind maintained a relationship with Lear and his family in the years that followed.
A few years after that pilot cycle, he starred in an NBC pilot, 'The Bennett Brothers,' about two odd couple-like siblings living together. The young actor who Kind was originally set to co-star with was fired, Kind says, and replaced with Clooney.
'We became fast friends in much the way that I think the couples should not date while they're making a film,' Kind says. 'You are working together and that bonds you. And we don't know whether or not that bond is really love or compatibility — it's 'we want to make a good product.''
The pair had only five days to do the pilot, but their bond formed and has since remained.
'We kept in contact and he kept saying, 'You got to come out. You got to meet my friends,' which I did,' he says. 'I became close to him because of that experience.
'George was my tour guide to L.A.,' Kind continues. 'George was instrumental to everything I did in L.A. We went to the farmers market [on 3rd Street] all the time. We would go out to bars all the time. All my friends who I'm still in touch with today, here they are ...' — he grabs his phone to pull up the group text they share. 'Oh my God, I got 19 [guys] on this thing,' he says as he scrolls through the contact list of the chat, which includes Clooney.
In time, he digs into the spots that play a role in his L.A. story.
The private club in Burbank is the site of our interview. Kind joined during his time on 'Spin City,' which ran from 1996 to 2002.
'I took up golf when I was in Second City. If you're an actor, what are you going to do with your days? You can waste your life playing golf or waiting for the phone to ring — I decided to waste my life playing golf,' Kind says.
Ted Wass, a 'Spin City' director, was a member of the club, but Kind didn't want to join because he was about to have a child. He changed his mind, however: 'I said, 'I'm going join a club so everything can be regimented.' I can tell you how long it will take to get from my place to the club, how long to play a round the golf, how long until I'll be home for the child.''
'This place is addictive,' he adds. 'I would just sit and jabber like this. We would tell stories, tell jokes. I'd have one glass of wine. I'm a lousy drinker, and I'd get home and I'd have been out in the sun, and I would fall asleep on my kids. I said, I can't trust myself to rip myself away to go home to the kids. So rather than rip myself away from this club, I ripped myself away from the state. I moved to New York. Now, all three kids are in college, so I can come here and just play golf and have fun and wait to do John schtick.'
He's part of a group of showbiz types who hang out at the so-called Mazursky table, named after the late filmmaker Paul Mazursky, who often convened a small gathering of regulars, including actor Ronnie Schell and artist Charles Bragg. A semblance of the group still gathers to this day.
'I would go to the farmers market for coffee, not necessarily to eat — although I would at Charlie's,' he says. 'There was a sandwich that was named Richard Kind, it was tuna fish on toasted whole wheat with a thick slab of onion.'
'You have a favorite sandwich in L.A.?' he asks. I tell him I am no sandwich expert, but knowing this neighborhood is on his list, I relay that I am a fan of the offerings at Larchmont Village Wine, Spirits & Cheese. 'It's unbelievable!' he says, eyes wide. 'It's the best sandwich in the nation. That salami sandwich — I think It's No. 3 or No. 4 [It's No. 3, for the record] — oh my God. I've brought some home to New York for my kids. They're the best.'
'I remember being there because it was sort of a famous night — when Drew Carey was on Carson. We were all at the Improv, and they turned on the TV and everybody watched Drew kill,' he says. 'I didn't know him, but you could say five minutes before it was pre-Drew Carey, five minutes after Drew Carey became Drew Carey. It was dynamite. It was a nice Hollywood moment that you saw a star being born.'
About a dozen or so of America's best known character actors — which include Kind, Titus Welliver, Spencer Garrett, Laurence Fishburne, Alfred Molina, Michael McKean, Eric McCormack, Noah Wyle and Jason Alexander, to name a few — often gather for what's been dubbed the Character Actors Dining Society (CADS, for short). Craig's, owned by CADS member Craig Susser, is often the site for their dinners, but they mix it up every so often.
'I think pre-COVID, Spencer, Titus, Laurence and maybe Alfred went to dinner at Musso & Frank's and they said we should do this more often. I think each one invited a person, and we now have these monthly or bi-monthly, whenever we're in town, CADS meals, usually at Craig's because Craig is a dear friend. It's a wonderful group of guys. In fact, let me ask them,' he says, pausing to pick up his phone and text the group to see if he can mention the next part on the record. The group OKs the mention, but details are still in discussion: 'We're going to try and put together a book of stories, and then proceeds will be donated to charities. We're picking four different charities.'