Due to Denis Leary's decision to use vulgar language in this interview, the Star Tribune, which continues to care deeply about the moral sensibilities of each and every reader, has opted to replace a few choice words with more G-rated fare.
Denis Leary knows how to watch his words. He kept it clean as a reformed saber-tooth tiger in the animated hit "Ice Age," shined in Disney's "Operation Dumbo Drop" without dropping a single F-bomb and reportedly got through an entire Saturday afternoon in 2006 without using one curse word.
So would the veteran promote his latest series, "Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll," in family-friendly fashion?
No freakin' way.
"There's 1,700 shows on television, and now there's 1,700 and *flipping one. OK?" said Leary, trapped in a hotel ballroom with journalists, separated from his beloved cigarettes. "Please, let's not get into us talking about our characters and all that stupid *trivial matter every *good-intentioned actor talks about. Let's try to steer away from that and just have a good time."
No problem. Too many comics rely on obscenities the way amateur French chefs do butter, eventually smothering any sign of zest and freshness. But Leary takes such casual glee in talking like a longshoreman (albeit one who reads Dostoevski on his lunch break) that you can't help but be amused, starting with his early '90s no-holds-barred stand-up routine, "No Cure for Cancer," and culminating in the FX dramedy "Rescue Me," the woefully underrated series he co-created with Dudley Riggs veteran Peter Tolan. It ripped the bandage off the wound suffered by Americans on Sept. 11, viewing the tragedy's aftermath through the eyes of jaded New York City firefighters too wrapped up in their own macho ways to confront their feelings honestly.
In "Sex & Drugs," Leary takes another iconic profession — rock star — and explores what life is like after a taste of sold-out shows, groupies and lots of cocaine.
The drugs remain; the rest of it doesn't.