John Stamos recalls friendship with Bob Saget, from conflicts to complicity

The New York Times

When standup actor and comedian Bob Saget died, aged 65, on January 9, his shocked friends and family reacted with a profusion of tributes. Among these people was his old friend John Stamos, who co-starred with Saget in the series “All Is Forever” (1987-1995) and its Netflix-produced sequel, “A Fuller House” (2016-2020).

In a video interview, conducted in late January, from his home in Los Angeles, Stamos recalled how a working relationship that initially had conflicting moments turned into lasting love. Below are edited excerpts from the conversation.

In honor of Bob, his ex-wife [Sherri Kramer], mother of her three children, came to talk to me. She was crying. “He loved you so much. He really loved you so much. But at first, he hated you.” What? (Laughter.) “He’d come home and he’d be jealous of you, and he’d complain about you non-stop.”

My high school drama teacher emailed me the other day with his condolences, and said, “Do you remember when I went to Hawaii? Bob was really nice to me, but man, you were completely mad at him.”

And it’s true. Our styles completely conflicted. He was a comedian. If there was a person on set, he had to make them laugh. I was always looking for the drama. I think we ended up finding a middle ground. But we both went through that process begrudgingly, grumbling the whole time, because we didn’t want to change our ways of doing things.

He sometimes distracted everyone—disturbed, even. We were there to do a scene, and the important thing was figuring out what worked and what didn’t. But he didn’t stop (punching the air as if to mark each shot), “boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.” And I would say, “Bob”. But he didn’t stop. I think I can say that this sometimes got in his way.

But the thing with him was this: Bob could strike a balance better than anyone I’d ever worked with. He made up for everything he did annoying with a lot of love. Several people called to tell me how much Bob mattered to them, and how he helped them. He was always helpful, to an almost obsessive point.

In honor of him, people started joking, and that was necessary. Dave Chappelle did [duas entradas longas]. I said he was the greatest, greatest stand-up comedian of all time. And the respect he’s expressed for Bob, for the last five or 10 years of his life… I told him “that was really important to Bob, and I really appreciate everything you said.” And he replied, “Are you kidding? When I was starting out as a comedian, he was very protective of me. He helped me.” And I didn’t know that.

Bob was bombastic in his love affairs and in his friendships. If you were friends or even acquaintances with him, he was always by your side, all the time. [Stamos enlaçou as mãos, demonstrando a proximidade de Saget com seus amigos.]

I watched a video that shows us in the last episode of “Three Is Awesome”, our final thanks. We were all gathered, and Bob finally came over to me and hugged me, kissed me. But I don’t know how close I felt to him at that moment. I didn’t think I needed a Bob in my life. He had my parents. He had my religion. I thought I had everything I needed.

And then my dad died, and this guy supported me like no one else, because all the people I knew were so shaken. My sisters, my mother. But Bob was firm, and he took action and took care of me, even going so far as to ask if he could arrange the funeral. It was two hours of dirty jokes, something I don’t think my father would have enjoyed. But he gave people what they needed at that moment. Everyone needed to laugh, and he gave everyone that opportunity.

I think that really cemented our friendship. And after that we became closer and closer, to the point where we were always there for each other, in our most important moments. Now I have to go through these things without him, you know?

His divorce came first, and I think that’s where I can say I was there to help. I was his Cyrano for most of that story. I remember texting him on their first date after the divorce, explaining what to say, how to act. And then when he broke up with that girl, he practically lived on my couch. There was no one as close as the two of us. But that’s something everyone says about him.

Bob was an excellent listener, but sometimes you had to tell him to listen. Here’s one more truth: there was a time in our lives and in our friendship, about 10 or 11 years ago, when we were almost like a married couple. We were both single and spent a lot of time together, and I told him he needed to see a therapist if he wanted to remain friends with me.

I knew a great therapist. Bob started working with him, and it really helped. Bob was talking about himself nonstop, nonstop, and suddenly you’d notice something in his eyes that said, “Oops, now it’s time to ask John how he’s doing.”

But besides my mother, he was my biggest fan, my biggest fan. He would brag about me to other people. When I decided to recreate “A Fuller House” and the series was successful, at first I could tell he was thinking something like “why didn’t I have this idea?” But then, in almost every interview, he always gave me credit. “It was John’s idea. He’s the one who brought us together. We owe it to him.”

He was the most selfish humble guy on the planet. And the most insecure person I’ve ever met in my life. He had a habit of saying things as if to inflate his position. Every girl who made a cameo in “Three’s A Lot,” he’d say, “She loves me. She’s completely into me.” “I don’t know, Bob. Cindy Crawford, really?” I think he sometimes overcompensated.

My job for many, many years was to help him understand how good he was, how smart he was, how funny he was, and how much people loved him. I guarantee that he died not knowing all the love for him that existed in the world, and that saddens me so much, because that was something he wanted very much.

He wanted to be accepted, loved and appreciated, and for people to know how good he was at what he did. And people knew all this, but they didn’t tell Bob in time.

Bob always worried about everyone else, but he talked a lot about death. His wife Kelly Rizzo said she had a premonition. I didn’t notice anything. The last time we got together, the two couples went to Nobu, maybe a month before he died.

He didn’t look like a guy who was about to die, but he was very calm, which is weird in Bob’s case. He was at peace, somehow. And he listened to me, was very considerate, didn’t interrupt, and seemed to care what we were saying. I hate to say it, but that was the Bob I always wanted to see. And that was the last time I saw him.