It was just over a decade ago that the young American actor Jeremy Piven had a run-in with mercury poisoning. It must have been a low blow. After getting roles in such touchstones of culture as Seinfeld and Entourage and establishing his renown as an actor of worth and substance in the vast and glittering landscape of film and television, he was appearing on Broadway in 2008 in a revival of Speed-the-Plow, David Mamet’s 80s satire of the movie business. It sounded like a great idea, it really did, but things were not so clear-cut in the world of Piven. Sidelined by an illness whose cause was unknown, Jeremy Piven went to his doctor and discovered that he had what is called hydrargyria—a hard, cold, factually unyielding case of mercury poisoning.
What a bummer. But could this case of too much tuna have been attributable to the unwavering fish-only diet that it was rumored Piven had been following for years, like a rudder stuck in gear and driving its vessel in a series of maddening and senseless circles? Was Piven—and let’s be honest, is he still to this day—a compulsive tuna-gobbler?
Aside from Piven’s culpability, this issue broaches a more important one that has been nibbling now for days at my conscience, suggesting to me some frightening things about the world.
Let me say straight out that sushi is one of the greatest, most diverse and eclectic foods on the world’s stage of restaurants and eateries. Pizza? You must be kidding. Mexican cuisine is the worst unless it’s top-notch (in which case it is second best—behind sushi). The various slow-broiled meats and misshapen filling-between-buns that we pass off as American cuisine? That’s a joke, even if French fries can be delicious with a bit of Ketchup. And the nameless smattering of other Asian dishes and delicacies that pale in comparison with the holy grail of fish served cold, raw, and nakedly awaiting with a glisten of oozing oils? That other stuff is at best questionable, and I wouldn’t dare prefer it to the better stuff—namely, sushi, if you get the drift. I couldn’t live without it, even if I wanted to.
But the human body would have it that this one devilish illness—mercury poisoning—coincides with a food so delicious that I could imagine myself eating it every day for the remainder of my life (that is, if I had the money). It was a sad day when the name Jeremy Piven surfaced as the premier test case for the sushi fanatic, who now has proof of the established human limits of a diet of sushi, sushi, and more sushi. He is my hero, this actor with a ridiculous and all-out fish fanaticism that had him pinned to his sickbed, dreaming of the fish he couldn’t eat. He is also my canary in the coal mine, the sparkling image of what I could be if I had a thicker wallet, a stronger stomach, and simply more gusto.
So we should honor the figure of this famous actor and his willingness to have eaten so much and with so little regard for his own health, running up against now a lower and doctor-advised standard for his fish consumption. If only there were a way to achieve something of the shadow of his greatness…a few times a week instead, perhaps? Nothing doing there. I wouldn’t even consider it if I were Jeremy Piven.
