Category: Articles

  • Friends Shocked by Violent Death of Mellower Kinison

    Friends Shocked by Violent Death of Mellower Kinison

    By Amy Wallace
    Times Staff Writer
    Originally printed in The Los Angeles Times
    Sunday, April 12, 1992

    The shock comedian was sobering up, associates say. A teen-ager is held in the collision

    They were the kind of kids to whom comedian Sam Kinison’s bellowing stage persona was often said to appeal–two young men, in their late teens, driving fast in an old pick-up on a Friday night.

    Their 1974 Chevrolet truck reportedly was filled with beer cans as they tore down U.S. Highway 95, swerving into oncoming traffic near the California-Nevada border. Moments after hitting Kinison’s Pontiac Trans-Am head-on, fatally injuring the comedian and knocking his new wife unconscious, one of the teen-agers had only this to say, according to witnesses: “God! Look at my truck!”

    On Saturday, Kinison’s friends said they could not believe how he had died. The 38-year-old comedian, who made his reputation as a hard-drinking, loudmouthed wild man, had just returned from his Hawaii honeymoon with Malika, the 26-year-old Las Vegas dancer he had married a week ago today. He was settling down, friends said, sobering up and trying to “come into the mainstream.”

    “I can’t accept it. Especially the fact that he was not doing anything wrong,” said comedian Richard Belzer, an old friend, who noted that Kinison was on his way to work–a sold-out show in Laughlin, Nev.–when he died. “He was going to a job. His wife was in the car. It wasn’t a drug overdose. It wasn’t self-indulgence. He was living a clean life.”

    Immediately after the crash, which occurred near Needles at about 7:30 p.m., Kinison at first appeared fine, said friends who watched the crash from a second car and reported that beer cans from the pickup were strewn across the highway. With what appeared to be only cuts on his lips and forehead, he wrenched himself free from his mangled vehicle, lying down only after friends begged him to.

    “He said: ‘I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,’ ” said Carl LaBove, Kinison’s best friend and longtime opening act, who held the comedian’s bleeding head in his hands. Kinison paused, as if listening to a voice that LaBove could not hear.

    “But why?” asked Kinison, a former Pentecostal preacher. It sounded, LaBove said, as if “he was having a conversation, talking to somebody else. He was talking upstairs. Then I heard him go, ‘OK, OK, OK.’ The last ‘OK’ was so soft and at peace. . . . Whatever voice was talking to him gave him the right answer and he just relaxed with it. He said it so sweet, like he was talking to someone he loved.”

    Kinison died at the scene from internal injuries, according to authorities. An autopsy is planned.

    Police did not release the name of the Las Vegas teen-ager who was driving the pickup truck, but California Highway Patrol dispatcher Tine Schmitt said the youth had been taken to Juvenile Hall in San Bernardino, where he was being held on suspicion of felony manslaughter.

    Schmitt said the driver sustained moderate injuries and his passenger, also a juvenile, was more seriously hurt. Malika Kinison was in serious condition Saturday at Needles Desert Community Hospital.

    Those in Kinison’s entourage speculated that the youths had been drinking. Majid Khoury, Kinison’s personal assistant, said there was beer in the back of the truck and in its cab. “It was all over the place,” Majid said. The CHP refused to discuss whether the two teen-agers were drunk or whether they had been given blood-alcohol tests.

    Friends described Kinison as a warm man, generous to a fault–a description that seemed at odds with his brazen brand of humor. Especially in the early years of his career, the rotund comic was the king of shock comedy–vulgar, vitriolic and ear-splittingly loud. To many, he was downright offensive.

    Where other comedians joked about sex, Kinison screamed about carnal relations among lepers and homosexual necrophilia. Other favorite targets included televangelists, women and Andrew Dice Clay, the abrasive comedian to whom Kinison hated being compared. He even had a few jokes about driving under the influence.

    On Kinison’s 1988 album “Have You Seen Me Lately?” he defended drunk driving this way: “How else are we gonna get our cars home?”

    But even Kinison’s critics admitted that he was much more than another gross-out comedian. At his best, he was a biting social commentator. The son of a preacher from Peoria, Ill., Kinison was particularly brilliant, many said, at dissecting religious hypocrisy.

    In a riff on fallen televangelist Jim Bakker, Kinison imagined Judas, sitting in heaven, saying: “Maybe I’ll get a reprieve.” Jesus, meanwhile, “was goin’ through the Bible sayin’, ‘Where did I say: “Build a water slide?”‘”

    Mitzi Shore, owner of the Comedy Store on Sunset Boulevard in Los Angeles, the club where Kinison’s act first caught fire, said: “Sam was a healer, a comedy innovator, a brilliance. To hear his tirades in the main room on his special night were moments in comedy that will never be repeated. Wherever Sam is now, he is resting and we will dearly never, never forget.”

    Belzer called his friend “one of the best comedians of his age. Beneath the rebel was a man with a real heart who had something to say about religion and politics. A lot of the audience went (to his shows) to see the wild man. But they came away having done a double-take on certain issues.”

    Rodney Dangerfield, another longtime buddy of Kinison, agreed.

    “It’s a big loss to people who want to laugh,” said Dangerfield, who had featured Kinison in his 1986 movie “Back to School.”

    In recent years, some said, Kinison’s act had gotten tamer. Instead of the homeless, he aimed his razor-wit at Vice President Dan Quayle, who he said was greeted at Cabinet meetings by the chorus: “Hey, Dan’s here. Anyone want anything from Burger King?” After the gay and lesbian community took him to task for his jokes about AIDS, Kinison publicly repented, calling himself “insensitive” and promising to no longer make light of the AIDS epidemic.

    In his personal life, too, Kinison–who once described his past cocaine use as being so heavy he used a garden hose to inhale–had mellowed as well.

    Kinison, who starred in the Fox comedy series called “Charlie Hoover,” had been negotiating with the television network to do a variety show and was expecting to sign a two-movie deal next week, said Bill Kinison, his brother and manager. He said the comedian was looking forward to getting off the road for awhile, leaving the reckless lifestyle behind and spending more time with his family and friends.

    “We had taken a turn in the career that we had been wanting to take,” Bill Kinison said. “He knew he couldn’t live on the road forever.”

    A week ago, before a small gathering of friends at the Candlelight Chapel in Las Vegas, he and Malika had formalized their five-year relationship–marrying at 2 a.m. on the birthday of Kinison’s late father.

    “He said it would be a tribute, and an easy day to remember,” said Florence Troutman, Kinison’s publicist. Dressed in a tuxedo and red bow tie, Kinison wept, Troutman said, as he recited his vows. “He was very happy.”

    Kinison and his wife spent last week at the Mauna Kea Beach Hotel on the Kona Coast, arriving back in Los Angeles early Friday. Kinison, who had been on a back-breaking road tour for much of the last year, had a sold-out show scheduled that night at the Riverside Resort Hotel and Casino. He was, friends said, revived and ready to work.

    At midday, the Kinisons headed east, the lead car of a two-car caravan–Kinison’s brother, his personal assistant Khoury and LaBove followed in the van that also carried Kinison’s dog, a Lhasa apso named Russo. Three miles north of Needles, LaBove was startled awake in the back seat.

    “I heard Bill saying: ‘Watch out for that guy, Sam. That guy’s in your lane,’ ” LaBove said. “Then I heard Bill scream, ‘Watch him, Sam! Watch him!’ Then I heard the most horrendous crash.”

    The van skidded to a stop, LaBove said. Bill Kinison ran to check on his brother and, thinking that he was merely shaken, turned his attention to the driver of the pickup truck. The teen-ager was out of the cab, surveying his crushed windshield and seemingly uninterested in the human damage that had been done, LaBove said.

    “He said: ‘God! Look at my truck!’ And Bill said: ‘You think you’ve got problems now, you don’t know who you hit,’ ” LaBove said. “He was thinking Sam was going to get out of the car yelling. He thought Sam was OK.”

  • Comedian Sam Kinison Killed in Highway Crash

    Comedian Sam Kinison Killed in Highway Crash

    Los Angeles Times News Service
    Originally printed in The Palm Beach Post
    April 11, 1992

    The former preacher had just started living a ‘clean life’ when he collided with teens who were drinking and driving.

    NEEDLES, Calif. — They were the kind of kids to whom comedian Sam Kinison’s bellowing stage persona often was said to appeal — two young men, in their late teens, drinking and driving fast on a Friday night.

    The cab of their Chevrolet pickup was littered with beer cans as they tore down U.S. highway 95, swerving into oncoming traffic near the California-Nevada border. Moments after hitting Kinison’s Pontiac Trans-Am head-on, fatally injuring the comedian and knocking his new wife unconscious, one of the teenagers said: “God! Look at my truck!”

    On Saturday, Kinison’s friends said they could not believe how he had died. The 38-year-old comedian, who made his reputation as a hard-drinking, loud-mouthed wild man, had just returned from his Hawaii honeymoon with Malika, 26, the Las Vegas dancer he had married a week ago Sunday. He was settling down, friends said, sobering up and trying to “come into the mainstream.”When he died, he was on his way to a sold-out show in Laughlin, Nev.

    “I can’t accept it,” comedian Richard Belzer, an old friend said of Kinison’s death. “Especially the fact that he was not doing anything wrong. He was going to a job. His wife was in the car. It wasn’t a drug overdose. I wasn’t self-indulgence. He was living a clean life.”

    Immediately after the crash about 7:30 p.m. Friday, Kinison at first appeared fine, said friends who watched the crash from a second car. With only minor cuts on his lips and forehead, he wrenched himself free of his mangled vehicle and lay down only after friends begged him to do so.

    “He said, ‘I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,’” recounted his best friend, Carl LaBove, who held Kinison’s bleeding head in his hands.

    Kinison paused, as if listening to a voice that couldn’t be heard, LaBove said.

    “But why?” asked Kinison, a former Pentecostal preacher. It sounded, LaBove said, as if “he was having a conversation, talking to somebody else. He was talking upstairs. Then I heard him go, ‘OK, OK, OK.”The last “OK” was so soft and at peace… whatever voice was talking to him gave him the right answer, and he just relaxed with it. He said it so sweet, like he was talking to someone he loved.”

    Kinison, who police say was not wearing a seat belt, died at the scene, apparently of massive head injuries sustained when he hit the windshield. An autopsy is planned.

    Authorities did not release the name of the Las Vegas teenager who was driving the pickup, but California Highway Patrol dispatcher Tine Schmitt said he was being charged with felony manslaughter.

    Schmitt said the driver sustained moderate injuries while his passenger, also a juvenile, was more seriously hurt. Malika Kinison was in stable condition Saturday at the Needles Desert Community Hospital.

    Friends described Kinison as a warm man, generous to a fault — a description that seemed at odds with his brazen brand of humor.

  • Second-Chance Sam

    Second-Chance Sam

    By Joe Rhodes
    Frequent Contributor To TV Times
    Originally printed in The Los Angeles Times
    Sunday, November 17, 1991

    Sam Kinison has been sent to his corner, away from the main set of the new Fox network sitcom “Charlie Hoover,” isolated from the rest of the cast and most of the crew.

    Tim Matheson, Kinison’s co-star, is in the midst of an elaborate set, surrounded by extras and scenery: slot machines, miniskirted waitresses, crap tables, all the details necessary to evoke the ambience of an Atlantic City casino.

    Kinison, in his trademark beret and long coat, is standing barely 30 feet away, but he might as well be in another world. His area, brightly lighted and painted entirely in blue, is roped off from the casino set and his only clear view of the other actors is via a monitor. Kinison looks strangely disembodied surrounded by all that blue, the lone resident of a monochromatic universe.

    “Every time they say, ‘OK, time to change sets,’ I always start to move along with everybody else,” Kinison says, waiting patiently for his cue. “And then I realize, hey, I’m not going anywhere. They may be changing sets but I’m stuck right here in Blue World.”

    Which, all in all, is not a bad metaphor for Kinison’s career. It’s been 10 years since he first roared into Los Angeles, the howling stand-up from hell. He has, for the last decade, been the comedy equivalent of a Scud missile, loud, messy and you could never be sure just exactly when he’d explode.

    Kinison, a former road-show evangelist, and his act embodied his conversion to the wild side of life. Designed to provoke, it served him well. He was criticized for bashing women, bashing gays, bashing Christianity. And every criticism brought in more paying customers.

    His personal life did nothing to soften his on-stage image. There were drugs, alcohol abuse, danger and debauchery on a grand scale. He hung out with the heavy-metal crowd, acting more like a rock star than a comedian.

    “It was fun to be at the China Club and be up there jamming with Slash or Joe Walsh and John Entwistle (of The Who), and I’d be a liar to say I didn’t love it, that it wasn’t my high school dream, ’cause it was,” Kinison says. “But there comes a point where you say, I’ve done enough of this. I want to move on to something else.

    “I mean it was great to be the rock comic, the shock comic. But after you’ve played Giants Stadium with Bon Jovi in front of 82,000 people, after you’ve done the “Wild Thing” video with Jessica Hahn and every rock band from hell, you’re not gonna top that. And I’m on the other side of 35 now, so it’s time.”

    Which is why Kinison, who’s 37 to be exact, is standing on this blue stage, pursuing that most mainstream of comedy goals, a network sitcom. “I want to show people that there’s a side of myself other than just the outrageous comedian,” Kinison says. “I hope this shows that I can do family entertainment, that my comedy doesn’t just depend on vulgarity.”

    In “Charlie Hoover,” Kinison plays Matheson’s 12-inch-tall alter ego, the inner voice who’s always urging him, as Kinison explains “to not go to work, to call that girl, to run away. I’m his pleasure center.”

    Kinison’s scenes are shot with a special-effects camera that allows his 12-inch image, shot against the blue background, to be inserted, live, into the master shots. Kinison and Matheson rehearse face to face and then, when its time to shoot, return to their respective sets, able to see each other only through occasional glances at the monitors.

    “It really doesn’t feel that difficult to me because I’m used to performing by myself when I do stand-up,” Kinison says. “But (the producers) seem to think it’s really hard. Don’t tell ’em. Let ’em think I’m bustin’ my ass.”

    Kinison seems genuinely grateful that Fox took a chance on him, considering his longstanding reputation as a less than reliable performer. “I think a lot of ’em were wondering if I was up to it and I was kind of wondering myself. It was like, ‘Gee, I hope I haven’t bitten off more than I can chew here.’”

    But instead of hating the long hours and the morning calls, Kinison has found himself invigorated by having a steady job. “I kind of needed this, I think,” he says. “I needed something to turn the nights back into the days.”

    Image considerations aside, Kinison was getting plenty of clues that he needed to slow down. He was forced into rehab programs to deal with his substance abuse problems. His younger brother, Kevin, committed suicide in 1988; last summer his girlfriend was raped by his bodyguard while Kinison, allegedly passed out drunk, slept in the other room.

    “Yeah, those were pretty sobering experiences,” Kinison said, quietly, his demeanor as far from his raging stage persona as it could be. “Those are things that can either destroy you or, if you survive them, make you stronger. Those are hard things for anyone to get through, especially people with the title of comedian.

    “I’m just glad I made the transition from when I could have overdosed or when I could have fallen asleep at the wheel and run off a cliff or something. It’s good to have survived those years.

    “I don’t hear anything screaming in here any more,” Kinison says, pointing to his heart. “I’m just happy to be here. I’m just happy to have the chance.”

    “Charlie Hoover” airs Saturdays at 9 p.m. on Fox.

  • Comedy Review: Kinison Turns the Volume Down Slightly

    Comedy Review: Kinison Turns the Volume Down Slightly

    By Mark Chalon Smith
    Originally printed in The Los Angeles Times
    Monday, July 29, 1991

    ANAHEIM – What with the stupid macho posturing of Andrew Dice Clay and the bombastic assaults of shock-radio’s Howard Stern, these days Sam Kinison might seem an afterthought, almost quaint.

    OK, quaint is probably too soft a word for the loudest of the loud, the original foul-mouth who’s offended just about everybody, especially women and homosexuals, along his screaming way. But the competition is heavy for entertainers with attitudes engaging in public one-upsmanship. So much anger, so much noise.

    For a while there, Kinison complained that a lot of guys were stealing his act, but now he has backed off some, giving in to the inevitable. Even his approach has changed a bit: ever since Kinison publicly kicked cocaine and other nasty habits a couple of years ago, he has moved away slightly from the provocations that made him infamous.

    The Kinison that showed up at the Celebrity Theatre Friday night wasn’t someone you would want in polite company, not by a mile, but some of his more personal attacks came across as half-baked, close to self-parody.

    He even closed the gig with a plea to men to be more responsible in the bedroom with women. Blatantly facetious, of course, but the crowd of mostly guys didn’t like it anyway. They came to hear Kinison spit out one misanthropic, misogynistic blast after another–any hint of niceness was met with raucous boos that, at one point, even seemed to surprise the burly comedian.

    A familiar barrage against homosexuals, in which Kinison goes on and on about their sexual practices, did get him going, bringing out what his critics say is his hateful essence. The audience, many obviously fueled by booze and the two heavy metal bands that opened the show, loved that riff. As usual, it all seemed pointless, only giving Kinison the opportunity to toss out a spate of vulgar images.

    The most effective part of the one-hour performance, the part that indicated he may be veering more from the personal to the political, was a segment of his takes on the Persian Gulf War. It was hardly mainstream or conservative but was more controlled and more accessible than his other material.

    Although he used the war for some redneck breast-beating over U.S. military superiority, Kinison also pointed out how one-sided, and almost bullying, the confrontation was. “It was like we had an army of Rich Littles doing an impression of the war,” he said. “Let me tell you, Col. Sanders could’ve won this war.”

    He then turned to the actual hardware, especially the over-estimated firepower of the Iraqis. “What about that Scud missile? I didn’t know K-mart was a weapons dealer–shoot it out of your car then turn on CNN to see where it landed.”

    The war’s aftermath and the United States’ approach to the Kurds also inspired Kinison. “I heard that eight of them died by getting hit in the head with the relief boxes we dropped on them. Can you believe that, man? I fell off the couch on that one.”

    As for the quick victory, Kinison had a simple explanation: fear of Bob Hope. “Our troops were worried, man, that Hope would show up with his usual has-been celebrities like Jamie Farr and Ann Jillian. Man, they didn’t want to sit through that.”

    Kinison returned to his old form shortly after, working an overly long bit on the homeless that was creepy and unfunny. He reduced the problem to an issue of laziness, suggesting that all bums be taken out and shot.

    Here’s the only printable joke in the bunch: “I bought two homes just to (tee) the homeless off!!”

    It sounded just like something Howard Stern would say.

  • Comedy Review: Comic Kinison Still Far From Being Family Fare

    Comedy Review: Comic Kinison Still Far From Being Family Fare

    By Glenn Doggrell
    ASSISTANT SAN DIEGO COUNTY ARTS EDITOR
    Originally printed in The Los Angeles Times
    Friday, December 28, 1990

    SAN DIEGO — Sam Kinison will not be replacing Walt Disney as a staple in family entertainment for a while.

    At least not until he quits graphically describing what he considers disgusting homosexual habits.

    Or graphically describing sexual acts. Or graphically describing the male anatomy.

    Playing to about 500 people Tuesday night in the main ballroom at the Hilton Hotel on Mission Bay–the first of a two-night run–Kinison, sporting a new beard, wore a black bandanna with white skulls to hold back his long hair and asked for understanding from his die-hard fans in the crowd as he makes the transition to family entertainment. In fact, he said, his HBO special, scheduled to appear in March, will even be called “The Sam Kinison Family Entertainment Hour.”

    But, you have to ask, what family? The Manson family, maybe. Certainly not the Partridge family.

    Kinison aims to shock. He’s not the funniest comedian; he’s often vulgar. To some, that’s cathartic. He does command your attention.

    Kinison’s current audience generally is considered to be 18- to 25-year-old males, but Tuesday’s crowd included a generous mix of fans, including his mother (who loved the act), bikers, women in designer dresses, construction workers, collegiate types and professionals. And several hardcore fans who had come to PAAAAAARTY!!! and hear Kinison vent his rage on:

    * Elton John: Unprintable.
    * Homosexuals: Unprintable.
    * Rap musicians: Unprintable.

    But what can be aired here are Kinison’s thoughts on Dan Quayle–or as Kinison prefers to put it, the best assassination insurance George Bush could have. Kinison describes Quayle at a Cabinet meeting:

    “Hey, Dan’s here. Anyone want anything from Burger King?”

    “If he was ever president,” Kinison continued, “we’d have to give him that ride through Dallas.”

    The rotund, 37-year-old comedian would also like to entertain the troops in Operation Desert Shield.

    “It’s a natural. These guys are 18 to 25 years old. Do they want to see Bob Hope without any women? I DON’T THINK SO!!!

    Kinison’s humor is fueled by rage, a sense of pent-up frustration at life’s injustices toward Kinison, as perceived by Kinison. He looks around and doesn’t like some of the things he sees. He rails at these demons with bellows and shouts.

    The atmosphere was not what you would expect at the Hilton. The stately ballroom had been transformed into a huge, smoke-filled bar with loud rock music drowning out conversations at the cabaret seating before the show.

    Kinison liberally doused his routine with four-letter words and gestures. A high, hoarse laugh often interrupted his rage.

    Three silver rings filled his right hand as he constantly paced the stage. The 57-minute act flew by.

    His fans raged and shouted with him. Say it again, Sam! Even when Kinison verbally attacked a man on crutches, a heckler, the crowd loved it.

    Kinison also took aim at fellow shock comic Andrew Dice Clay: “That retard in Fonzie’s jacket.” He then explained that Dice, as he calls him, didn’t have the sense not to discuss X-rated material on a show that kids were watching. “WHAT AN IDIOT! WHAT A JACKASS!” Kinison concluded.

    Kinison doesn’t help his family image when he talks about sex and aphrodisiacs, either.

    Or when he talks about drugs.

    “There should be a law that says you can smoke a fatty when you’re driving. Pot makes you a more considerate driver. You wave people past. You let them cut in front of you.”

    Or his former cocaine use at parties:

    “I didn’t get a straw, I got a garden hose.”

    But this act is a start toward a tamer Kinison. The homeless, the hungry and AIDS victims–all former Kinison targets–were spared Tuesday night. And women as sexual objects–at one time a large part of the act–only got a light dusting toward the show’s end.

    But still, Kinison has a ways to go before his show is one EVERY MOTHER COULD LOVE!!!

  • Jury Deadlocks in Kinison Bodyguard’s Rape Trial

    Jury Deadlocks in Kinison Bodyguard’s Rape Trial

    Originally printed in The Los Angeles Times
    Friday, October 26, 1990

    A mistrial was declared Thursday in the trial of a bodyguard accused of raping a girlfriend of comedian Sam Kinison.

    The Los Angeles Superior Court jury deliberated 2 1/2 days before announcing it was deadlocked, in favor of acquittal, on five felony counts of rape and sexual assault against Unway Carter, 22, of Greensville, S.C.

    Carter was “very disappointed,” said his public defender, Barry Collins. The 6-foot-4-inch, 300-pound Carter, who was hired to protect Kinison, was charged with raping Kinison’s girlfriend on June 21 after bringing the couple home from a party. Kinison was asleep during the incident. Carter testified earlier this month that the 26-year-old woman consented to have sex with him.

    Collins said seven of the 12 jurors believed Carter was innocent of four counts, and 10 thought he was innocent of the fifth count. Collins said prosecutors could take a week to decide whether to seek a retrial.