You were so convincing as Ray Charles in Ray that you won the Oscar for it. In The Soloist you portray Nathaniel Ayers, a real-life homeless schizophrenic who’s also a music virtuoso. How do you make a transformation authentic without it becoming an impersonation?
I spend hours getting the nuances of the person, making him real. Doing an impression is like the curtain of the character. Then, as you go further, something angelic happens and you actually become that person. For Nathaniel I pushed things a bit. Not only did I have to learn how to play violin and cello, but I lost about 20 pounds, too. And I put a gap in my teeth.

How on earth did you do that?
I had one chipped out with a chisel. My teeth are just so big and white—a homeless person would never have them. I wanted to break up my big, shining piano keys to give them a little character. Some might think I fucked up my grill for nothing, but I just wanted to come up with some shit to make the part unique.

What were the challenges of playing someone with extreme mental illness?
We’re all a little crazy out here in Hollywood, but going to that edge was really scary. The character hears voices in his head, and I had to submerse myself into that state. There were some scary moments: Sometimes I didn’t know what was real. I’d go to sleep at night hearing the voices, and then wake up like, Oh, snap! You’re still here, Foxx! Stay with us—don’t slip into the deep end!

We haven't seen your funny side for a while. When are we going to hear Jamie Foxx talking about the consequences of sticking a finger in a girl’s booty again?
I’ll get back to it. I just have to find the right project. The thing is, if you’re not the first at something, it’s like, why do it? When I first saw Chris Tucker, I was like, Damn, I cannot do that. I am not that good.

Aw, you’re pretty funny.
Doing stand-up is how I refresh myself with what people are talking about and laughing at. I love getting out there and fighting with my jokes—that process generates everything from song ideas to movies and TV projects. I got a lot of heat from Bill Cosby about doing movies like Booty Call. He’d say, “You shouldn’t do this filth,” and so on, so I made a joke about him on David Letterman: “I’ve come to find out that Bill Cosby has an illegitimate child—I guess I wasn’t the only one doing booty calls.” It was a great joke. People started laughing, but then Letterman shot me down. He said, “Do not ever talk like that again.” I spoke to Mr. Cosby after that, though, and everything was cool.

Of all your roles, which one do you most identify with?
I am a sports guy—basketball, volleyball, table tennis. So I had the most fun doing Any Given Sunday. It’s just about football, talking trash, and having a good time.

That was your first dramatic role. What did you learn from it?
Oliver Stone was really hard on me. I came out of TV, so I was saying my lines too loud. He showed me how I could be more powerful by being quiet. As a director, he was a real kick: As soon as he’d yell “Cut!” we’d hit the clubs like that! We had some good times. You can fill in the blanks. Director Michael Mann also gave me a huge gift with the film Collateral. I was asking him when I got to do my “thing.” He said, “Why don’t you not do your ‘thing’? Just be a cabdriver—somebody uneventful, somebody nobody knows.”

Tell us something people don’t know about you.
Very few know how great I play table tennis: I am really good. As I watched the Nigerians play America in the Olympics, I thought, If I wasn’t doing what I do, doing that would be great. Michael Bolton, he’s a nice guy and probably the best entertainer I’ve played. I’ve heard that Prince plays, too. I would love to play Prince in table tennis—that would be a game. Oh, and I used to have a deep karaoke problem.

What are your karaoke killers?
“Do Me!” by Bell Biv DeVoe. Hit that, then go right in with “Y.M.C.A.” and it’s over!

You were born Eric Bishop in small-town Terrell, Texas. What’s the difference between Jamie and Eric?
Jamie Foxx is the persona—the party-starter, the emcee, the guy who comes onstage with Kanye West and does whatever. Eric Bishop is the quiet guy who’ll have a glass of wine somewhere quiet and play piano for just a few people. My sister has never called me Jamie Foxx. She always calls me Eric. She thinks that “Jamie Foxx” is a crock and always says, “I am not calling you that shit.”

What was the craziest outfit you went out and bought when you got your first hit of fame and money?
I got an 8-ball leather jacket, matching Cross Colours shirt and jeans, and big Karl Kani boots, then topped it all off with a Kid ‘N Play haircut. Next I bought a pearl white BMW with a blue ragtop, smoked windows, and alloy rims. I dropped a system in it and headed right to the Shark Club. It’s the same today: If I can come up with a hit song or movie, I metaphorically get in that BMW again. Every little thing still gives me that taste of wow.