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Season on the Brink

Dave Chappelle's erratic behavior has his cast worried and his show in jeopardy.

by Fabulous Julien | 2005.05.05

I was sitting in an Eastern Berlin wiener schnitzel house, licking my chops in anticipation for some rabbit sausage links and pod-casting unreleased MIA demos from 1993 when Werther, a tubby bike messenger, waddled in the door with the news. My Aryan flattop dashed with mustard highlights bristled as he relayed the gossip in that charming Teutonic accent. By the time he was through, I knew my yearlong hiatus from NYC was over and so did Werther, as he gingerly passed me a piping-hot apple strudel smothered in Bavarian’s cream.

So now I straddle my iBook before you to report that one of today's comic greats, David Chappelle, is wandering down the same ominous serpentine path traveled by fellow greats Chris Farley, Jim Belushi and John Candy; it's a path that ends with a convincingly unfunny encore and few guffaws from the Boyz 'N' Chelsea.

While the second suspension of the Chappelle Show since it started shooting its third season has been reported, reports from the inside paint a much grimmer picture than simply an awkward schedule. According to a Fabulous Julian source close to the program, the fabulously gifted comedian is a freight train full of crying babies headed directly into a passenger train packed with infertile nuns. Yes, it’s that bad. Since filming began six weeks ago, our prying eyes have seen Chappelle's behavior become increasingly erratic; he regularly arrives hours late for shooting and has disappeared for days at a time without offering an explanation for his absence. Look, sugarcheeks, if Fab-Julez ain’t on the premises, look for me in a Koreantown massage parlor rocking out to the Isleys. But back to Dave, the man who made “cocaine is a hell of a drug” a 2004 catchphrase – it's been said that for the few hours Chappelle actually graces the set, he's been delusional and clearly out of his gourd.

Last Thursday, one of Fabulous Julien’s squealing piglets was at M&T Bank in Midtown waiting in line for an ATM machine (no doubt to spit her wad on Bulgari anklets) [ed. note: original annoucement of 5th and 19th has been corrected]. In front of her, a scrawny man feverishly punched at the machine’s soft buttons and repeatedly swiped his card. He appeared baffled by the machine, almost as if it was an apple martini maker fueled by Japanese midgets running on a rat wheel. But after minutes of tinkering, a flood of bills shot out. My spy reports it took a full minute for the ATM to defecate all the crispy bills. After grabbing his enormous stack of money, the man wheeled around to reveal himself as a demented-looking Dave Chappell. After the comedian staggered out of the bank, my spy shimmied up to the ATM to find Mr. Chappell's ATM card still sitting in the machine. She dashed out the door and scurried up to Mr. Chappell a block ahead, tapping him on his shoulder. She says he turned to her, looking twisted off his skull, and, in slurred speech, thanked her for the card before tottering off. Since raiding his account for a bundle of cash, Chappell has not returned to the set.

Management and workers alike had been bracing for the show's unraveling; Viacom's sexy suits made routine visits to check in on their enigmatic 50-million dollar star and the show's crew was fearful that Chappell was cracking under the pressure of having to deliver another critically-acclaimed season after signing his whopping two-year contract. His downward spiral has affected all; last Thursday, the director of the show openly bawled on the set. Last night, the show was temporarily cancelled, as rumors of Dave’s deteriorating mental condition and possible drug use have surfaced.

Know this, sweet laughmaker, if you need to talk, Fabo Julez is always ready with an open ear, a dozen unreleased Baile Funk/Block Party mash-ups and a quarter-flask of Glenlivet. Get well soon -- you're one of the few likable individuals in this foul cesspool we Hollywood insiders call "Gullyhood".

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