AT 15, MICHAEL CUCCIONE OF MTV'S 2GETHER HAS BATTLED ILLNESS IN LIFE AN ON-SCREEN AND WANTS FANS TO KNOW: SURRENDER IS NOT AN OPTION
STACKED BENEATH THE television in Michael Cuccione's comfortable Vancouver family home are two very different videotapes. The first is 2Gether, MTV's hit boy-band mocumentary featuring the 15-year-old Cuccione as Jason "QT" McKnight, a karaoke-bar singer asked to join a musical group called 2Gether because his terminal illness makes him irresistible to girls. When QT faints onstage one night, his manager smiles. "He's suffering from bilary thrombosis," the manager says. "That is what we in the business call a publicity bonanza." The February 21 TV-movie is being spun into a series beginning August 15.
As for the other tape, it isn't funny at all. There's Michael five years ago, wan and bald in a hospital bed, fighting cancer for real. The tape chronicles his treatment, from chemotherapy to radiation and finally a painful stemcell infusion (similar to a bone-marrow transplant.) At the end, Michael, in recovery, speaks to the camera about the need for cancer research.
The sick little boy in tape No. 2 bears little resemblance to the teen sitting here, in his kitchen, snacking on cinnamon toast. A much better likeness can be seen in the nearby framed photo of a happy Cuccione, along with his 2Gether bandmate Noah Bastian, arm-in-arm with Britney Spears. "She's hot!" says Michael, who sounds like any other teen and who, despite his newfound fame, does not have a girlfriend. That's not to say that he's lacking in female fans: Spears herself invited Michael and his made-for-MTV band to be the opening act on her summer tour (negotiations are under way).
Almost 6 years ago, life wasn't so smooth for Cuccione. On July 25, 1994, 9-year-old Michael was diagnosed with Hodgkin's disease. Doctors found lumps on his collarbone, one the size of a golf ball. His chances of recovery were good- Hodgkin's is one of the most treatable cancers. The disease went into remission after six months of chemotherapy but then returned. "I went from a 90 percent chance of making it to a 20 percent chance," he says.
During his hospital stay, Michael asked his parents- Domenic, who operates a Burger King franchise, and Gloria, who retired from selling women's clothing when Michael became ill- to bring him his electronic keyboard. He had been taking dance, voice, and piano lessons for years, but even his mom and dad were surprised when he began composing music in the hospital. Michael told his parents he wanted to record a CD to raise money for cancer research. When he had written five songs, his folks put up $20, 000. Several companies (including Burger King) offered to market the CD, Make A Difference, in their stores and restaurants; local newspapers and TV stations reported on Michael's efforts, and by 1996 the Michael Cuccione Foundation was off and running. So far, the organization has raised more than $300, 000.
"To find a cure for cancer that isn't worse than the disease itself- that's my goal," says Cuccione. In addition to the CD, he's written and self-published a book, There Are Survivors, with his grandmother, retired elementary school teacher Jane MacSporran, about the cancer experience; all profits go to his foundation. Both Cuccione and MacSporran kept journals throughout the family's ordeal.
Despite his local renown, MTV producers were unaware of Cuccione's past health problems when they hired him. "I had absolutely no knowledge of it," says Brian Garden, MTV's president of programming. Today, when the question inevitably is put to Cuccione about how a cancer survivor can joke about terminal illness in a TV-movie, he is ready with the answer. "The most important thing is to be able to go through something difficult and come out with a positive attitude," he says. "You have to make light of every situation. It makes it easier in the long run." But even the Cuccione family (including Michael's sister, Sophia, 17, and brother, Steven, 11) would not have wanted Michael to appear in 2Gether if the character had cancer. "This disease is make-believe," says Domenic about that fictional illness. "This was easy."
Not so easy is Michael's annual post-cancer checkup. This years visit, in July, will be his fifth. Says Domenic: "There's never a day that goes by that I don't worry. If the big C was to come back..." His voice trails off, and Michael is quick to jump in. "I'm here," he says, "to stay."
