All Fall Down: The Craft & Art of Physical Comedy

Leo: Off-the-Wall Physical Comedy

2012-01-25T23:25:00.008-05:00

[post 235]

If you combined the physical contortions of Janik & Arnaut (post 231) with the loony inventiveness of Brooklyn's own Rube Goldberg (post 230), the result might be Leo, the unique one-man show playing at the Harold Clurman Theatre in New York through Feb. 5th.

I am writing about it now in the hope that some of you locals will get to see it before it closes, but the reality is that I am too pressed for time at the moment to write a review that would do it justice. Indeed, there have been dozens of shows that have come and gone and not gotten a mention on this blogopedia for that very same reason. This is my attempt to overcome that all-or-nothing mentality — and get some sleep tonight. So I'll be brief rather than lengthily pseudo-profound...

An award-winning solo show performed by Tobias Wegner and directed by Daniel Briere, Leo literally stretches the boundaries of physical comedy. Stage left is a room where Wegner performs silently, though with a soundtrack; stage right is a (near) simultaneous, life-sized video of his performance — except it's rotated 90 degrees. When Wegner walks on the floor, the video shows him walking up the wall, etc. This could easily become a dumb gimmick, but he is amazingly adept at making his movements look natural when rotated a quarter turn, and his physical vocabulary is impressive. The results are often magical. As the piece progresses, his world grows, first with hand-drawn objects (he sketches a chair and then sits in it) and then projected animation.

from the New Yorker

The show is little more than an hour, and the question obviously arises as to whether or not the bizzaro world he conjures adds up to much of anything — such as the price of admission. It's a fair question, and one I hardly have time to debate here. It certainly worked enough for me, and if you're reading a physical comedy blogopedia, I'm guessing you'll find it well worth your time just for the sheer creativity. So like I said, go see it!

Good news: half-price tickets have been available on TDF and thru Theatermania.

Here's some video for you:

• Click here for the Leo home page.
• A video interview with Tobias on Jim Moore's VaudeVisuals blog.
• A rave review from Total Theatre.
• A mostly positive review from the NY Times
• A negative review from BroadwayWorld.com

I Told Ya So!

2012-01-24T10:44:00.003-05:00

[post 234]
Here's the beginning of my post from 5 weeks ago...

And here's the front page of today's NY Times:

You can read the whole Times article here.

The Lady, the Tiger, or Mr. Noodle?

2012-01-20T22:05:00.005-05:00

[post 233]
Brian Bernhard recently did a Facebook post sharing this funny Sesame Street Elmo's World video of Bill Irwin as Mr. Noodle. With the help of Mr. Wiggles and Leon Chesney, the milquetoast Noodle overcomes his inhibitions and embraces his inner hip-hop dancer. I especially like how Wiggles & Chesney wave their dance rhythm directly into Noodle's body.

Now if you just watched that, you no doubt noticed that whoever put this on YouTube cut off the ending. This of course left me wondering how I would have ended it, just like in 6th grade when we had to write our own climax to the short story, The Lady, or the Tiger? I was definitely leaning toward them getting on the bus, sitting quietly reading their Wall St. Journals, and never acknowledging their wild time together, not even making eye contact.

So, before going any further: what do you think? What's your ending? Because as it turns out there was another version online that did have the ending. Here are the final moments:

Hmm, guess I should try to think more positive thoughts....

Spectacle: An Online Journal of the Circus Arts

2012-01-17T12:36:00.005-05:00

[post 232]

Ernest Albrecht, author of The New American Circus, has been getting the circus magazine Spectacle into print for the past fourteen years. In addition to publishing and editing duties, he has done much of the reporting for the magazine. It will not come as news to you that the circus does not get nearly the same respect in the United States as it does in Europe, so Mr. Albrecht's labor of love serves an important cultural function.

The bad news is that it is incredibly difficult sustaining a print journal aimed at a small target audience; I suspect it's not a question of not making enough money, but rather of not losing too much. The good news is that Spectacle is now an online magazine, and already has ad support from Ringing and Cirque du Soleil. The first issue is out, and you can read it here.

Grandma & Barry Lubin

Here are the contents of the first online issue:

• The Big Apple Circus’s Dream On
• The Big E. Super Circus with Bello Nock
• Disney On Ice. Dare to Dream
• Cirque Shanghai at NYC’s New Victory Theatre
• Traces in NYC
• Zarkana reconsidered.
• The Great American Circus at Atlantic City
• A Celebration at Circus Center
• Natalie Agee’s She Recognized My Magic
Feature: Barry Lubin and Grandma bid farewell to the Big Apple Circus
Book Review: Private Acts, The Acrobat Sublime by Harriet Heyman and photography by Acey Harper.

Scott & Muriel in the Big Apple Circus

And here's what's coming next: "Within the next several weeks I will be traveling to Monte Carlo to review the festival there, after which I will go on to Paris to catch the Cirque de Demain festival and see the new productions of the Gruss and Bouglione families. I will also be reviewing the spectacular Broadway musical Spider Man—Turn off the Dark and offering insights into the circus rigging that helps make it so spectacular. In February, it will be time for Circus Sarasota. March brings The Greatest Show on Earth to my area of the country; I look forward to writing about its new production."

Current plans are to publish Spectacle monthly, which may seem ambitious but is clearly easier to do online than in print. I for one am already looking forward to future issues and I hope you will join me in wishing Ernest Albrecht the best of luck in this endeavor and a hearty thanks for all his hard work.

Best Contortion Act Ever: Janik & Arnaut

2012-01-16T11:26:00.004-05:00

[post 231]

The typical contortion act — you know, with the platform and the mouthpiece and the 13-year-old girl doing a Marinelli bend — puts me to sleep. And then there's the snake dance of French performers Janik & Arnaut — Janine Janik (1931 - 1985) & Christian Arnaut (1912 - 2003). This isn't exactly physical comedy since they're not going for the laughs, but the partnering work is amazing: not just the unique positions, but the sinuous flow of the snake around the charmer's body. In most partner acrobatics, the base is muscling a lot of the moves; here, much of it is accomplished with little or no use of Arnaut's hands, much less his biceps; he guides more than he lifts.

Maybe it's all those magicians writing for my blogopedia, but I couldn't help think there could be a sharper ending, an illusion with Janik morphing back into the fake snake....

Thanks to Ophra Wolf for the link!

Brooklyn's Rube Goldberg

2012-01-14T15:10:00.003-05:00

[post 230]

Rube Goldberg was an inventor and cartoonist born the same year as Max Linder (1883), which is to say a few years after Mack Sennett and a few years before Charlie Chaplin and Stan Laurel. He drew popular cartoons of elaborate gadgets that performed simple tasks in the most convoluted way imaginable.

Goldberg's eccentric approach to tackling life's everyday obstacles makes him a spiritual cousin to many of the silent film comedians, especially Buster Keaton. "Rube Goldberg machines" have continued to capture our imagination a century later, but I for one have never seen anything nearly as fantastic as the work of kinetic artist Joseph Herscher, as profiled in this cool video from the NY Times:

Although Herscher only makes himself a minor player in this machine drama, physical comedians do not hesitate to throw themselves into the action. Buster Keaton's movies are full of oddball inventions, such as these from The Electric House (1922):

But this is a comedy, so every invention of Keaton's must of course backfire in the second half of the movie. You can see for yourself by watching the whole movie online here, though I of course recommend treating yourself to a high-quality DVD. You deserve it!

Raging Debate on "The Artist"

2012-01-13T10:20:00.005-05:00

[post 229]

I first previewed the new silent movie, The Artist, when it surfaced at the Cannes Film Festival in May, and then reviewed it when it opened in New York on Thanksgiving weekend, but now folks who know about these things are saying it might actually snatch the best-picture Oscar. We'll have to wait until January 24th for the nominations, but meanwhile The Artist has won best picture in Boston and San Francisco, copped six Golden Globe nominations, garnered four nominations from the Vancouver Film Critics Circle, and was named by the Producers Guild of America and the Houston Film Critics Society as one of the year's top 10 movies. As we get closer to the February 26th Academy Awards, money, reputations, and artistic correctness will all be at stake, so of course the opinions are flying!

The main criticism of The Artist is that it's sentimental fluff, a lot of fun if you like that sort of thing, but not a film of any significance. And of course the question then arises — and it is a fair question — can a silent movie ever really plumb the depths of our complex world without the use of words? Isn't Tree of Life profound and The Artist superficial?

Here's an exchange from the Movie Club section of the online magazine, Slate, which I found interesting enough to pass on to you. First up is a criticism by Dan Kois, talking about movies (see chart, below) that are difficult to watch but that you later find meaningful vs. enjoyable but forgettable flics:

Are there films that work in the reverse? Films that offer enjoyable viewing experiences, but then afterward provoke disdain? Of course! How about apparent Oscar front-runner The Artist, a charming piece of work that never tires, never bores, never in its 100 minutes stops tap-dancing for your smiles? As soon as it was over I was angry at myself for each chuckle I’d given the movie, and now, weeks later, it only provokes a shrug. This is what everyone is so crazy about? I don’t even mind that it’s a trifle—I like trifles! —but did it always have to go for the easiest joke, the simplest twist, the most obvious turn?

Coming right back at him is another Slate critic, Stephanie Zacharek, who said it better than I could have:

I think, as just the first round of Movie Club proves—as every full year of moviegoing proves—there are an infinite number of ways for movies to reach us, to sneak in through cracks we didn’t even know existed. If you have a house with cracks, you’ve got to seal them up. But for moviegoing, don’t seal the cracks! It’s how the light gets in, as Leonard Cohen said. Which leads me to something you said, Michael, about how both Melancholia and The Tree of Life were both made by directors who think cinematically, and my lack of warmth for TOL notwithstanding, you’re right. As you said, “Directors who don’t think cinematically sadly account for most of the movies we see all year.”

Which is why I really need to talk about The Artist, allegedly the Philistine’s choice for movie of the year. Because it’s not nearly as good as the great silents—it’s not Keaton, it’s not Murnau, it’s not Griffith. Because it’s a crowd-pleaser, a trifle, a soufflé of a movie with no overarching theme or purpose. Because it’s not as great as the buildup from Cannes led us to believe. Because Harvey Weinstein saw it and immediately thought, “I can make money off this.”

I’m afraid there are lots of reasons for not liking The Artist that actually have little or nothing to do with The Artist, and though that happens with lots of movies, I still find it troublesome. I love The Artist, as Dana said, “without disclaimers or shame.” I think shame is a useless construct when it comes to movies. (Disclaimers—well, we all need those once in a while.) In terms of cinematic thinking in 2011, Michel Hazanavicius trumps Terrence Malick. For one thing, he doesn’t need any “Oh, mother! Oh, father!” voice-overs, no shots of the sun peeping through tree branches, to make sure we’re feeling what we’re supposed to be feeling. And he’s relying on the grace of his actors, their way of moving, their subtle shifts in expression, to tell a story in purely visual terms. Not only is there no dialogue; there’s no expository dialogue, no overt explanation of why the lead character, Jean Dujardin’s George Valentin, is so resistant to talking pictures, which some of the movie’s detractors see as a flaw. For me, George Valentin lives in a mirror-universe where he foresees an actor in another universe (the real one), John Gilbert, drinking himself to death in 1936: The problem wasn’t that Gilbert’s voice wasn’t good enough for talkies (it was), but that filmmakers’ awkwardness in the new medium ended up reflecting badly on him, through little or no fault of his own. In other words, the fictional George Valentin had a premonition of something that happened in real life. Why wouldn’t he be afraid?

I love the economy and discipline of The Artist. Hazanavicius finds all he needs in the faces of his actors, Dujardin and Berenice Bejo. And I’m astonished by the effect the movie has had on audiences. I’ve seen it three times now, twice with a “real” audience (the first time, at Cannes, doesn’t count), and both times I’ve been amazed at how restless the audience is at the beginning—there’s that point where you expect the talking to kick in, and it just doesn’t—and how wrapped up they are by the end. I know, I know—just because lots of people love a movie doesn’t make it good. (The Dark Knight, anyone?) But I do think Hazanavicius and his actors have helped unlock the code of silent-film acting for many people, people who have always thought it was overdone or, at least, just too weird to understand. Film critics know all about silent film and silent-film acting, but who cares about us? As the writer Eileen Whitfield observed in her wonderful biography of Mary Pickford, Pickford: The Woman Who Made Hollywood, modern audiences often view silent movies as if they're trying to be talkies and failing, whereas they're really much closer to dance, a symbolic re-enactment. The Artist is all about faces and movement and the emotion that can be drawn out of those things together. To me, it’s elemental.

Here, here!

And two more morsels for you. That cool web site, Chaplin-Keaton-Lloyd Film Locations, has an excellent new post up about the shooting of The Artist. Check it out here. And here's wonderdog Uggie visiting the offices of the London Guardian newspaper:

And you can even read all about Uggie in this Daily Beast profile.

The Magician's Tale

2012-01-11T21:33:00.002-05:00

[post 228]

I was just about to move on from the topic of magic (see three previous posts) when Billy Schultz sent me this article by Chloe Veltman from American Theatre magazine. Nothing about physical comedy, but a lot about magic as theatre.

You can read the whole article here.

Guest Post: "Physical Comedy in Magic—A Sampler" by Tanya Solomon

2012-01-08T02:47:00.009-05:00

Photo: Linus Gelber

[post 227]
When I knew that Ben Robinson and Julian Olf would be contributing their writing on magic as guest posts, I asked my friend Tanya Solomon to recommend some good comedy magic to me. I've always had some interest in magic, but never pursued it and basically know very little. Tanya on the other hand is a veteran New York variety performer who combines all sorts of clowning, dance, and magic in her performances — plus she even works part-time in a magic store! When she came back to me with a thorough list of recommended videos, I thought it would be great if she would expand it into another guest post for the blogopedia. Take it away, Tanya (but don't make it vanish).... —jt
________________________________

Startling transformations. Hubris. Violations of logic and laws of nature. The basic elements of stage magic would seem to make it fertile soil for physical comedy.

And yet most "comedy magic" comes more from the standup comic tradition (Mac King, Harry Anderson, and David Williamson, to name a few funny ones). When physical comedy is used, it usually follows the narrative of the arrogant magician whose tricks fail and expose themselves. The classic act of this type is the late Carl Ballantine's:

Done well, by performers like Otto Wessely and Kohl & Co., this is great comedy. But when John gave me the chance to pick out some favorite funny magic, I decided to represent a less common type of act: one in which physical comedy is used and the magic (though not necessarily the magician!) is effective.

One of the greatest theatrical challenges in magic is getting around the "I can do something you can't" presentation. The mystery should be fun, not frustrating, for the audience. With that in mind, please note the variety of characters and situations of the magicians in these videos. Some (Voronin, Gartner) are powerful magi dealing with comeuppance. Buka is unable to predict or control his own magic. Tom Mullica is the victim of bizarre physical occurrences. And Tina Lenert's character isn't even a magician — which I find interesting, as she is the only woman in this lineup. (Women in magic are rare; women in comedy magic are almost non-existent.) Her act is in the tradition of Cardini's — magical events befalling someone going about non-magical business. (See an analysis and video of Cardini in the previous post.)

And so, a sampler of physical comedy in magic:

The hilariously diabolical Maestro Voronin will mesmerize you...no matter what befalls him in the process. Yevgeniy Voronin, from Ukraine, is featured in Teatro Zinzanni in San Francisco.

I don't know anything about this team, Roy Gartner & James, but I love their comedy relationship. And their magic.

Tom Mullica ran the Tom-Foolery, a magic bar in Atlanta, where he developed his famous acts. He had to quit smoking, but he kept the rubber face, and now performs a Red Skelton tribute in Branson.

The use of sound and rhythm by this fellow, Buka, is bizarre and unique, and his manipulations are impeccable. Funny stuff, but unfortunately an ethnic stereotype (Turkish?). Can't find any info on Buka except that he is Russian and lives in Romania...and that "buka" means "bogeyman" in Russian.

Tina Lenert takes a classic mime/clown bit and adds sleight of hand. This is her signature act, and probably the best-regarded use of mime technique in magic. (Raymond Crowe, the Australian "Unusualist", has an excellent DVD on the subject.)

Topper Martyn (1923-2004) had a long career as a comedy juggler and magician, including years in ice shows(!). The beginning of this video shows how he opened his "World's Third Worst Magician" act. In his book Topper's Mad Mad Magic — the best resource on comedy magic I've found so far — he lists the contents of his coat: "200 billiard balls, 1 cannonball, 10 wooden eggs, 8 folding dice, 2 giant rubber dice, 1 spring duck, 1 large spring snake, 6 small spring snakes, 300-500 playing cards, 1 string of flags, 50 coins, 1 rubber dove". Martyn commented, "Although I love to burlesque magic... there are no exposures in [my act]. The average audience is not interested in magic secrets; they love buffoonery, spectacle, action, and surprise."

Sylvester the Jester plays a "real live cartoon" character. His humor is a bit "nutty" for my taste, but he's incredibly inventive, and has created many effects.

Legend has it that Lou Jacobs himself told Charlie Frye to get out of Ringling's clown alley and hit the variety stage. Frye is a master juggler and magician, known for his "Eccentricks" instructional videos which teach skills with a physical comedy presentation. Here's a kinetic bit he does with linking rings and a floating bowling ball.

Because this is just a sampler, I'm going to skip over some better-known acts — the Banana Man, Steve Martin's Flydini, and Penn & Teller are among my favorites — and instead focus on a wonderful obscurity: "The Amazing Dr. Clutterhouse". No footage of this act is available, though tribute acts have been reported once in a while. My description comes from old magazines and a booklet published by Magic Inc.

In mid-20th century Chicago — then the capital of American magic — audiences were said to have wept and screamed at the antics of Dr. Clutterhouse, played by Elmer Gylleck, a hobbyist magician who created his original, ingenious props. Thunderous circus music played, and a bumbling gentleman in a walrus moustache and derby shuffled onstage. His wand escaped him, and ghosts and snakes flew from his briefcase, followed by revolver shots. Endless chaos ensued: an umbrella appeared in his pocket, an egg broke on him, a handkerchief refused to leave his hands. He tried to adjust his table, which collapsed further the more he tried to fix its rubbery legs. Clutterhouse shot the table dead. He couldn't control the massive amounts of paper and silk he pulled from his hat, and a rabbit's head kept popping out to mock his confusion. He put in a final colossal effort, was swallowed by a cloud of feathers, and pulled out a yard-long dead chicken. Finally, he produced two live rabbits, and exited, relieved.

A final note: this selection is mostly limited to one branch of magic, manipulation (i.e. sleight of hand for stage), which just happens to be my favorite. Other categories, such as mentalism (mindreading) and closeup card tricks, don't lend themselves to physical comedy. But you might ask, why aren't large-scale illusions included? Well, it might be my taste (I don't like the Vegas style that goes with the big boxes by financial necessity). Or, my perception that "comedy" in big illusion magic is limited to tired one-liners and sight gags might be correct.

At any rate, having scoured YouTube, these are the only illusion-scale performers who got my vote as being true physical comedy. Scott & Muriel, who call their work "slapstick magic," are currently performing in the Big Apple Circus.

But who knows...perhaps someone somewhere is hammering together a comedy illusion on the scale of the Hanlon Brothers. Maybe there's funding for it. Maybe there's even an audience! Vegas, anyone?

Guest Post: "The Actor & the Magician" by Julian Olf

2012-01-03T10:37:00.003-05:00

[post 226]

We continue our look at magic technique with this revealing analysis of the performance of the great magician, Cardini, by an old colleague of mine, Julian Olf. This article first appeared in a 1974 popular entertainments issue of The Drama Review (TDR) that I worked on as an editor in my grad school days at NYU. Even back then I realized that Julian's take on magic as a form of acting offered a fresh perspective, and re-reading it today only reinforces that opinion. So happy to have tracked Julian down, and much thanks to him for kindly granting permission to share his work with readers of this blogopedia.

In his youth, Julian studied sleight-of-hand magic with the vaudeville magician Jack Miller. He later shifted his concentration to a study of theatre history and dramatic literature, receiving graduate degrees in these subjects from Columbia and NYU. He recently retired from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, where he taught playwriting, dramaturgy, and chaired the department. His plays have been produced in New York, Boston, Amherst, Los Angeles and Vancouver. His comedy, 1-900-Sex-Date, won the Nantucket Short Play Award. His one-character play, People Almost Always Smell Good in the Art Museum, was produced at UMass-Amherst, published in the fall 2008 issue of the Massachusetts Review, and nominated for a national Pushcart Prize. His screenplay, Anthony, inspired by Shakespeare’s Hamlet, received a Gold Award at WorldFest International Film Festival (Houston) and was given a professional reading by The Drama Garage of Hollywood. His screen adaptation of Henry James’s short story, The Liar, was a finalist in America’s Best Screenplays. Click here for more information.

I've appended the only video footage of Cardini I could find. Julian points out that his article was based on his viewing of a different performance of Cardini, so readers should not attempt to match his narrative with the exact sequence in the video. The article is in pdf format and can be enlarged or downloaded using the buttons at the bottom of the Scribd window.—jt
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Actor Magician

And here's that footage of Cardini; sorry for the poor video quality; if anyone finds a better copy, let me know! —jt

Guest Post: "Keaton the Conjuror" by Ben Robinson

2011-12-29T09:40:00.003-05:00

[post 225]

Ben Robinson is both a master magician and an historian of magic, author of Twelve Have Died: Bullet Catching, The Story & Secrets and of The MagiCIAn: John Mulholland's Secret Life, as well as numerous articles for major magic publications. Just last month, Ben's decades-long research into the use of magic in silent films came to fruition with publication of his latest book, Magic and the Silent Clowns — a subject that had received scant attention until Ben's work. Concurrent with that, Ben helped curate a fascinating show at New York's Museum of the Moving Image entitled Magicians on Screen, including both a magic performance by Ben and a lecture-demo on the subject of magic and the silent clowns. In fact, Ben had first proposed the idea to the museum back in the 80s. Patience is indeed a virtue — though persistence sure helps! This blogopedia is very pleased to be able to share the first chapter from Magic & the Silent Clowns, and to be able to match Ben's enthusiastic prose with a few video clips.

_____________________________________

Keaton the Conjuror

Buster Keaton’s education and use of the conjurer’s illusionary techniques.

by Ben Robinson

“Once Pop accidentally wrecked another act by tossing me into the backdrop curtain. This was the turn of Madame Herrmann, the widow of Herrmann the Great, one of the most popular magicians. She was working some of his simpler tricks. At the finish of her act she had dozens of white doves flying to her from every corner of the stage.” (My Wonderful World of Slapstick, p27)

Buster Keaton was an illusionist.

It is said that the world’s greatest illusionist, or magician, would never be truly known by the public at large. Why? Because so great a “talent” wouldn’t need the adulation, as the prowess by which the work was deployed would be best praised by not even being seen. In the shadows of show business and art, there would lie success. In the French this is referred to as eminence grise. While Buster is certainly known, his use of illusion is at best appreciated as an auxiliary component to the gag.

However, a deeper look into Buster’s upbringing and eventual use of his fantastic vaudeville education clearly expresses itself in his movies, some of his TV appearances and, more notably, when meeting the media. It might be assumed that the Keaton we see is an image he is in total control of. That being said, the controlled image we always saw was one of a surreal world where “magic” was part of the landscape, like air. In the famous Sid Avery photograph of Keaton, titled “What Elephant?” while Keaton looks forward, with his hand on his brow, the elephant’s trunk winds through his other arm, the pachyderm quietly standing behind the comedian. This is a vanishing elephant only to the person closest to the king of the forest, a good metaphor for Keaton’s “magic.”

While the examples of Keaton’s legerdemain are too numerous for inclusion here, this notion may bear some examination in the following examples.

Clearly, legend has it that Buster received his nickname from Houdini. While this may be a matter of conjecture, the legend sticks (and most vaudevillians would tell you that when it comes down to printing the myth or the truth, they yowl, “the myth, print that!”).

That Joe Keaton and Harry Houdini (1874-1926) once appeared before the audiences of the Midwest in a tent show is certainly a fact. It is also a fact that this show, The Keaton-Houdini Medicine Show, was not a great success, and occurred years before Houdini’s triumphant success in Europe in 1900. Of his father Keaton remarks that “he was an eccentric dancer, not an acrobat, but damn near.” The same might be said of Keaton: he wasn’t a magician in the classic sense, but damn near. Like a classic magician, everything that he saw, particularly of the mechanical variety, was always filed away in his memory for future use. His summer home amidst the actor’s colony in Muskegon, Michigan was not far from a little town named Marshall, among its distinctions being the home of the very first electrified house in the US. Called Honolulu House, it doesn’t have the electric staircase (escalator) Buster later used in his movie The Electric House, but it does have many other mechanical wonders, including the sliding bathtub that switches between rooms that Buster used on celluloid.

Backstage, Buster saw it all. He refers to utilizing some of Houdini’s tricks in his movie Sherlock Junior, and even opens Cops with a line credited to Houdini: “Love laughs at Locksmiths.” He also acknowledges a relatively little-remembered genuine Chinese vaudeville illusionist, Ching Ling Foo — whose grand feats included turning a somersault in mid-air and when he returned to a standing position, he held a bowl of goldfish that

appeared from nowhere!

Young Buster grew up learning that magic had to be “justified” or plausible for the introduction of an illusion. He realized in his movie-making career that “cartoon or impossible” gags (and illusions) had to be justified, like his jumping and impossibly disappearing into the briefcase held by a man (dressed as a woman) accomplice on the street (Sherlock Jr.)....

....or appearing as nine individual dancers on stage at the same time (The Playhouse)....

....or avoiding the tornado winds by hiding in a magician’s prop (Steamboat Bill Jr.)....

Whenever magic occurred, Keaton might have been justifying his conceit he explained as “I always want the audience to out guess me, and then I double cross them.”

Keaton’s use of illusion was not always as a trick per se. When the house he moves across the train tracks in One Week narrowly escapes destruction by an oncoming train, another train enters the frame — and his on-screen drama — and demolishes what we only thought, seconds before, was safe. The revelation of the perceptual difference of the first train set the audience up for the wow appearance of the second train.

Similarly a magician will make a scarf appear, only to have the audience relax at that manifestation. When a dove flutters from the folds of that scarf, there comes the “topper.” Buster just played with much larger props.

This type of drama, albeit small, is as much part of the conjurer’s lexicon as a rabbit and a hat. Magicians refer to this type of presentation as a “sucker gag.” Feigned failure, only to be consummated by winning success, or in the previous example, unexpected total destruction.

I believe Buster was schooled in such thinking about surprise (both magic and comedy being dependent on surprise) by his vaudeville and mud show upbringing. The magician’s technique he learned as a child pervaded his work on screen and elsewhere. On stage in France, in the late 1940s, he counseled the clowns in the Cirque Medrano how to get more out of the crowded clown car gag. Multiple large clowns (always ending with the largest of all) simply emerging from a small vehicle was impossible. Once Keaton showed them how the impossibility became surprising, then the illusion became magical, funny and even more surprising. How many times have we all seen this? And how many times have we seen the clowns emerge with beach chairs and finally a clown emerging with a full tray of food including a stuffed turkey? These were Keaton’s touches he culled from the Hanlon Bros. performance of clowning, magic and illusion that took place in

Europe and the US prior to 1900.

And now for the magic that hits you as reality. This may give you an example of Buster’s eminence grise.

Remember the famous scene in Sherlock Junior where Buster is “shadowing” a man walking in front of him? Now, watch as the man tosses a cigarette behind him which Buster catches, takes a drag of and then discards...or does he? Given that Buster is the fellow who had a whole side of a building fall around him, missing him by mere inches, I think handling a lighted cigarette in flight was child’s play for him. But slow down the image and you will see a nifty piece of sleight of hand he no doubt executed on many occasions, being an inveterate cigarette smoker.

Other hand magic: in The Cameraman Buster tried to catch the fancy of the photo assignment secretary by making a quarter disappear in his hand, only to be revealed from behind his ear.

In Steamboat Bill Jr., when attempting to have his father receive a loaf of bread in jail, Buster mimes the contents of the bread and involves another deception of the hands. Effortlessly. Gracefully. As if he yawned.

All magical illusions are understood by the student of the art, firstly through small, hand-held deceptions. Given Buster’s consummate understanding of the nature of his medium (in this case, film) it is likely Buster combined this understanding with his familiarity with the scene backstage where magicians show each other tricks they carry with them, one time known as "vest pocket magic."

The point: Buster understood close-up magic because he was schooled in close-up magic from day one.

Whether it was dangling from a rope to save his wife from the pitfalls of a raging waterfall (a la Houdini) in Our Hospitality or making it appear as if he simply caught a lighted cigarette from the air, Keaton saw the meshing of illusion and reality in every situation, and exploited it. While performing off stage for a visiting film crew, in his later years, he created the illusion of catching a train, and bringing a 10-ton locomotive to a halt. One might say this was a developed version of catching the side of a moving car and being whisked from view, as in one of his short comedies.

Jack Flosso, the late owner of the world’s oldest magic shop, knew Keaton remotely through his father, the great Al Flosso, veteran of thousands of vaudeville and Coney Island sideshow performances. Flosso says, “When you do magic and don’t admit it, that’s great. Harpo did that, and where’d ya think he got that...Keaton! Buster had an eye for everything. Remember that.” That Keaton’s silent, surreal illusions should find a home in the 1930s amidst Harpo’s arsenal of wonders is not surprising to any Keaton scholar. What is delightful is that Keaton’s use of illusion was an integral part of his day-to-day life.

Buster Keaton working as a gag writer for the Marx Brothers

He frequently polished a window near him only to surprise his viewers by putting his head through the glass he had just polished, revealing that his polishing was deft pantomime... the illusionary transparent glass was only perceived as solid by his impromptu audience. Many remark what a great practical joker he was. Such visual jokes have their roots in illusion. In several newsreels depicting Buster at play one finds Keaton doing something short and sweet like sewing his fingers together (later adopted by Red Skelton) or making a baseball disappear for a dog (but not for the rest of the audience). Anything surprising, anything out of the ordinary from this apparently “ordinary” man made his magic more memorable and surprising.

We always hear of the “magic of the movies.” Buster Keaton is a master of a special type of movie magic that, often, you don’t even realize is right in front of you!

_________________________________________________

Sources:

Beckett, Samuel., FILM, Grove Press, NY 1969.

Bengtson, John., Silent Echoes (Discovering Early Hollywood Through the Films of Buster Keaton), Santa Monica Press, CA 2000.

Blesh, Rudi., Keaton, The Macmillan Company, New York, NY 1966.

Dardis, Tom., KEATON — The Man Who Wouldn’t Lie Down, Limelight Edition, 1996

Kerr, Walter., The Silent Clowns, Da Capo Press, NY 1975.

Keaton, Buster with Charles Samuels., My Wonderful World of Slapstick, Doubleday & Co., NY 1960.

Kline, Jim., The Complete Films of Buster Keaton, Citadel Press, NY 1993.

Knopf, Robert., The Theater and Cinema of Buster Keaton, Princeton University, Press, NJ 1999.

Meade, Marion., Buster Keaton Cut to the Chase., Harper Collins, NY 1995.

Tobias, Patricia Eliot, Ed., The Great Stone Face, The Magazine of the Damfinos, The International Buster Keaton Society, Volume 1, 1996.

Interview with Jack Flosso in New York City, December, 1999.

Kevin Brownlow, & David Gill (producers)., Keaton — A Hard Act to Follow, Thames TV production, 1987.

________________________________________

This article was originally published in The Keaton Chronicle, the magazine of the International Buster Keaton Society, The Damfino’s, in the Vol. 10 Issue 4, Autumn, 2002. Reprinted by permission. It is also part of Ben Robinson’s book Magic & The Silent Clowns (2011).

________________________________________

Visit Ben's web site here, where you can also purchase his book directly via PayPal.

Book Report: "Silent Comedy" by Paul Merton

2011-12-27T14:53:00.010-05:00

[post 224]

There are a ton of books about silent film comedy, many of them excellent, but they're not written by performers. Paul Merton, author of Silent Comedy, is on the other hand a popular British comedian — mostly improv and stand-up, rarely silent —with a love for the heyday of slapstick. He has even done several lecture tours on the subject, bringing screenings with live music to theatre festivals and other venues throughout the U.K. In the past two years he has produced two documentaries on early film (not just comedy) for television: Paul Merton's Weird and Wonderful World of Early Cinema (BBC Bristol, 2010) and The Birth of Hollywood (BBC2, 2011). He has also done an interactive presentation on early British film comedy for the British Film Institute, which you can view online here.

Merton is, first of all, a good writer! The problem I have with most historical works is that they're too thorough. I know the impulse: you've done all that research, naturally you don't want it to go to waste — "I suffered for my art; now it's your turn!" — but the result is more info than the reader needs. You can't see the forest for the trees. Merton's chronicle is full of fascinating tidbits and anecdotes, but he marshalls those facts to make a point. They all contribute juice to the narrative flow and actually tell us something significant about the performer. The result is a rich and entertaining read, 329 mass-paperback pages, though obviously you'll get a lot more out of it if you can view some of the films he's talking about, easy enough with YouTube and a basic DVD collection. Think of it as a companion volume to the actual movies.

Merton chooses to limit his study to Chaplin, Keaton, Lloyd, and Laurel & Hardy. He is dismissive of Harry Langdon; other comedians such as Fatty Arbuckle and Charley Chase play only minor roles, and there's no mention at all of Lupino Lane or Charley Bowers. Instead of separate sections on each comedian, the approach is chronological, which might sound boring and unimaginative, but isn't because he switches back and forth between these powerhouses every year or two to show how they continually tried to outdo one another. This works very well, bringing fresh insights into their working methods; for example, how Lloyd's success with the thrill comedy Safety Last spurred Keaton and Chaplin to create similar moments in Three Ages and The Gold Rush, respectively.

As a performer, Merton is always thinking from a performer's point of view, getting inside their heads better than most silent film historians. To his credit, he notices what stunts are real, and very much appreciates the virtuoso skill and hours and hours of practice required. However, not being a physical performer, he's not as sharply attuned to physical comedy vocabulary. It does not occur to him, for example, that the topmounter in the running 4-high in the elopement scene from Keaton's Neighbors is — in most of the shots — very likely a rag-doll dummy, and not Virginia Fox.

________________________

"Slapstick comedy has a format, but it is hard to detect in its early stages unless you are one of those who can create it. The unexpected was our staple product, the unusual our object, and the unique was the ideal we were always hoping to achieve." — Buster Keaton

________________________

As much as he admires the creativity of this golden age of cinema, Merton is not afraid to address its uglier aspects, specifically negative racial and gender stereotypes widely prevalent in those days. But he is also quick to point out progress made during the 20s in both areas, for example in Keaton 's The Paleface (1922) and The Cameraman (1928).

Keaton and Chaplin in Limelight (1952)

With his successful silent film tours offering solid evidence, Merton is bully on the appeal of silent film comedy when presented in the right circumstances, a point I was emphasizing in my recent Revenge of the Silents post. Here are just a couple of examples Merton offers:

In January 2007 at the Colston Hall, Bristol, I presented Steamboat Bill Junior to over 1,500 people on a big screen with superb musical accompaniment from Neil Brand and Gunther Buchwald. The house front falling towards Buster is a tiny moment in a cyclone sequence that runs for nearly fifteen minutes, but when the stunt happened the audience cheered and applauded spontaneously. A few days after this ecstatic response I heard the playwright Mark Ravenhill extolling the virtues of Steamboat Bill Junior on a BBC Radio 4 arts programme. I seem to remember that he had seen the film on a big screen at an open-air festival many years before.

The other people in the studio, who sounded like professional critics, had each been given a DVD of the film to take home and watch. Their verdict was unanimous: it simply wasn't funny because in their view humour dates very quickly, and black and white silent comedy couldn't be more dated if it tried. How could they get it so wrong? Well, watching a silent film on a small television screen with inappropriate music as accompaniment can destroy the magic. It's easy to see nothing….

Laurel and Hardy's last silent film release before their first talkie has often been considered their best ever. I've watched Big Business more than thirty times with a live audience, and the responses have been remarkably uniform. They always laugh in the same places with the same regular rhythm. Stan and Leo [Mc Carey] previewed their films in exactly the same way as Harold, Buster and Charlie, and the films were recut according to the audiences' reactions. That's one of the reasons they still work so well today.

A page from Merton's book, above, and a few more short selections below....

He [Keaton] was always proud that he didn't use a stuntman. Larry Semon's films are chockfull of stuntmen all pretending to be him, but it was Buster's belief that stuntmen didn't fall in a comical way.
[NOTE: Keaton did have a stuntman pole-vault into the dorm window for him in College, which I believe was the only time he was doubled, at least in the silent era. —jt]

The tiresomely idiotic debate on Keaton versus Chaplin is, in my experience, overwhelmingly used by proponents of Buster to attempt to rubbish Charlie… It’s an appealing mind-set for some people, who say: "We’ve all heard that Charlie Chaplin was meant to be the greatest comedian in the world, but my preference for Buster Keaton demonstrates my ability to think for myself. Chaplin was overly sentimental, but Keaton’s coolness and cynical eye chime exactly with our Modern Times...." Well, the good news is that they are both fantastic. There’s no need to choose between them. Enjoy them both! That’s one of the main aims in my book. I shall examine the films of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, not in isolation, as has been the usual practice, but showing how they influenced each other in a creative rivalry that also featured Harold Lloyd. This rivalry and desire to make better and better comedies ensured a stream of high-quality pictures. Great works of art were created.

As much as he [Keaton] liked Roscoe [Arbuckle], he was trying to get away from unmotivated slapstick. In all the years they worked together, the only disagreement Buster had with Roscoe was over Roscoe's assertion that the average mental age of an audience was twelve and that you should pitch your comedy at that level.

_______________________________

As for Paul Merton the comic, he is hardly silent, known instead for his surreal rants, often delivered dead pan, though he denies mimicking the Great Stone Face, Buster Keaton: "It comes from one of the first things I did as a stand-up in the early 80s called A Policeman on Acid, which was basically this policeman recounting in court the time someone gave him some acid and describing his trip. And I realized then it was much funnier if the policeman himself didn't find anything he was saying funny, so the deadpan approach came from there, and I suppose that kind of set a style. I wasn't deliberately copying Keaton at that point."

Here's the clip:

Merton is returning to touring his own comedy in 2012 in a "night of sketches, music, magic, variety, and dancing girls (two of them aren’t girls)." Click here for more information.

Jerry Lewis (Almost) Smashing Vases

2011-12-20T23:02:00.004-05:00

[post 223]

Here's how this here blogopedia works: I come up with great ideas for posts much faster than I can research and write them. (Yes, I have a life.) For every post you see, there are five in some stage of development, which may or may not see life. The sidebar item, "Coming Soon-ish or Later-ish on the Blogopedia," is merely the tip of the iceberg.

I mention this because..... my most recent post on that Jerry Lewis documentary included this quote from the NY Times:

This physical comedy is beautifully illustrated by a scene from “The Patsy” (1964), in which Mr. Lewis’s character knocks over an assortment of expensive-looking vases and catches each one just before it hits the floor. Mr. Lewis says he broke hundreds of vases in the process of rehearsing and shooting the scene.

As that post revealed to my utter shame, I'm too poor white trash to actually afford cable tv and therefore view that documentary, BUT somehow I managed to come up with the $11 to buy the DVD of Patsy (not available on Netflix) just to check out the vase scene. And here it is, co-starring the late, great Hans Conried. Vase business + chair business = quick post. My $11 Christmas present to you all. Now to the rest of my shopping...

Method to the Madness of Jerry Lewis

2011-12-17T09:43:00.002-05:00

[post 222]

I recently gave up my cable tv subscription so I don't know when I'll ever see this, but there's a new two-hour documentary on Jerry Lewis airing tonight (December 17th) at 8 p.m. and at midnight on Encore. The network is also dedicating much of today’s afternoon programming to a Jerry Lewis marathon, broadcasting films including The Bellboy starting at 1:50 p.m. I imagine the documentary will be shown again in the future, given the name of the channel.

It's gotten mixed reviews from newspapers, but looks like a must-see for the student of physical comedy. As the Los Angeles Times review said, "It isn't particularly incisive or intimate, but it has lots of good things to show you, at least a few of which, unless you are very dour, should also make you laugh."

Here's a preview:

A couple of quotes from a New York Times article on the documentary:

“Jerry went back to the silent era and he brought visual sight gags back to the American movie theaters,” says Mr. Spielberg, who once took a class taught by Mr. Lewis at the University of Southern California. “They weren’t doing that for a long time.”

This physical comedy is beautifully illustrated by a scene from “The Patsy” (1964), in which Mr. Lewis’s character knocks over an assortment of expensive-looking vases and catches each one just before it hits the floor. Mr. Lewis says he broke hundreds of vases in the process of rehearsing and shooting the scene.

“He’s much closer to Buster Keaton than a Charlie Chaplin,” Mr. Tarantino says, “in so far as actually taking the film medium and trying to get laughs by the way you shot stuff, by the art form itself, not just the pratfalls.”

• The Encore web page for the documentary is here.
• A (negative) Washington Post review of the documentary is here.
• A (positive) review from the Cleveland Plain Dealer is here.
• A 2-hour biopic of Lewis from the Biography cable channel is viewable online here.
• My two earlier posts on Jerry Lewis are here.

Revenge of the Silents

2011-12-16T19:51:00.030-05:00

Will The Artist and Hugo Compete for an Oscar?

[post 221]
Despite frequent tributes to the stars of the 1920s, despite all those beautifully remastered DVD sets, despite your enthusiasm and mine, our modern world has pretty much relegated silent film comedy to the nostalgia bin. Most of the younger generation has only vaguely heard of Chaplin or Keaton, much less seen any of their films, and names like Charley Chase, Harry Langdon, or Fatty Arbuckle mean nothing to them. I know; I teach college.

There are both good and bad reasons for this. Admittedly, the quality of these early films can vary drastically — not unlike television today. Many are formulaic, with minimal character or story development. Other than the action sequences, the pace must seem slow to a visual generation used to shots lasting only a couple of seconds. And did I mention — horrors! — they're in black and white?

But presentation is also a major problem. Before you'd plunk down cash to buy a silent film comedy on DVD, you're more likely to go to YouTube to watch one of the comedian's movies, or more likely just an out-of-context clip. You're going to be sitting at your desk, probably surfing the net at warp speed, seeking instant gratification. The video and audio quality is likely to be poor, depending on the source and the amount of compression for the web. Frustrated with the small size, you enlarge it to full screen, but now it's all blurry and pixelated. The sound track, coming out of your computer's sole speaker, is likely to be generic, just some ragtime tune slapped on top. If the clip doesn't grab you in twenty seconds or less, you're gone.

Ben Model

Contrast that with sitting in a crowded audience watching a restored print (film!) on a large screen. The music has been composed specifically for this movie and is being performed live by a talented and enthusiastic pianist, perhaps by an entire band. The audience is laughing loudly (they always do) and probably cheering and jeering as well. Soon you forget that it's not in color, you forget that you can't hear any dialogue. Instead you're marveling at all that creativity, wondering why they can't make movies like that any more. Silent film as a live performing art! But.... I'm guessing the number of people who've had this experience is way under 1%.

Is it at all possible, however, that the tide may be turning?

Not only are live performances of silent films growing in popularity, but two major commercial films about the silent era have just opened to rave reviews and serious talk of awards for best film of 2011. The first is The Artist, an actual black & white silent movie, which I previewed in this earlier post, when it almost won the Cannes Film Festival. The second is Martin Scorcese's Hugo, based on the novel The Invention of Hugo Cabret, a book I wrote about in this earlier post on Georges Mélies. Hugo's not silent, it's color, and it's even available in 3D, but much of it as a tribute to Mélies and the inventiveness of early cinema.

More on both of these shortly, but first honorable mentions to some of the silent film series that have paved the way. In New York, there are at least two ongoing series that you should know about, both of which have the imprint of Ben Model, silent film historian, composer, and pianist. The Silent Clowns Film Series, ongoing since 1997, presents about ten events a year, all free, and all featuring Ben on piano, with programming by Bruce Lawton and film notes by Steve Massa. Many of the films screened are not available anywhere else and are usually seen on newly restored prints. Always a fun time, full of revelations, and after the movies are over, Ben, Bruce, and Steve hold court, fielding questions from an audience of fellow fans.

Ben has also done a lot of similar work for the Museum of Modern Art, including the current film series Cruel and Unusual Comedy, focusing on social commentary in American slapstick, which he curates with Ron Magliozzi and Steve Massa. The most recent installment, however, focused on some marvelous rare early European comedy shorts from the Desmet Collection of the EYE Institute (Amsterdam). This was billed as "a sort of highlights reel of a complete 5-program series that will be presented at MoMA during 2012." Judging by what I saw in October, this collection is a significant find. And while I hope it eventually ends up on DVD, that won't be as cool as having seen the movies accompanied by a live band, with my Bloomfield College colleague Peter Gordon on saxophone!

Another place in NYC to learn more about the silent era is The Museum of the Moving Image in Astoria, Queens, which houses exhibits on movie history, but also has a steady stream of screenings and lectures. If you're in town December 17th, don't miss master magician Ben Robinson's lecture, Magic and the Silent Clowns: There is a strong link between some of cinema’s great comedians and magic. Performers such as Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd, and Harpo Marx started out in the world of vaudeville; many of their finest gags grew directly out of their love of magic. Magician and author Ben Robinson will show scenes from such movies as Grandma’s Boy, Sherlock Jr., The Circus, and Duck Soup to examine this important connection between magic, comedy, and cinema.

Also in New York, the Film Forum provides another home for screenings of silent movies with live musical accompaniment. They are currently in the midst of a Monday night series, The Silent Roar, featuring MGM films from 1924 to 1929, with Steve Sterner on the piano. Buster Keaton's The Cameraman plays the day after Christmas.

Enough tooting the Big Apple's horn.... don't want to make all those New Yorkers blush! Back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Bérénice Bejo & Malcolm McDowell in The Artist

The Artist

This is a French film directed by Michel Hazanavicius, most recently known for his OSS 117 spy spoofs, and starring Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo (real-life wife of Hazanavicius). Other than its bland title, I was utterly won over by The Artist, whose story unfolds against the backdrop of the transition from silent films to sound. There are obvious parallels with Singing in the Rain, except The Artist actually is a silent movie, and a black and white one at that. It's also stylish and sweet, quite funny, and very well acted. Dujardin and Bejo are easy to fall in love with, and John Goodman as the cigar-chomping Hollywood mogul and Uggie as the dog Uggie are both hilarious.

Jean Dujardin as George Valentin

Although the male lead, one George Valentin, is dashing, athletic, and comic, very much in the style of Douglas Fairbanks, The Artist does not attempt to recapture the world of the great physical comedians. "It wasn't the slapstick that meant so much to me. It was the melodramas," explained Hazanavicius. "The point was to share that sensual experience I felt sitting in the cinema watching Murnau's Sunrise." Be that as it may, the style is sumptuously visual and the acting ultimately physical. And did I mention that it's very well done?

Bérénice Bejo as Pepe Miller

At the risk of sounding mushy and sentimental, I was also pleased to see characters that were not total jerks. Yes, self-serving jerks exist, but that can also be too easy of a writing choice. The George Valentin character could have been an arrogant womanizer and a bitter loser. Peppy Miller's stardom could have made her totally full of herself. Goodman's Al Zimmer could have been a ruthless producer. Instead, they all have their positive side, which (spoiler alert) makes a happy ending possible. Yes, you could argue that this is phony and manipulative. After all, Hollywood comes off very well in this French valentine to America, which is no doubt one reason The Artist is creating Academy Award buzz. But not the only reason. It's an exceptional film, and has already won Best Film of the Year from the San Francisco Film Critics Circle and the Boston Society of Film Critics, and has six Golden Globe nominations, including Best Comedy.

Here's the trailer:

Better yet, here's a short scene from the movie with the director's commentary:

And here's the press kit:
The ARTIST Production Notes

Ben Kingsley as Georges Mélies

Hugo
Martin Scorcese's Hugo is another valentine to the movies, but in this case an American director returns the compliment, reminding us all of France's contribution to early film history, specifically the effects-laden work of magician-turned-director Georges Mélies. Hugo is quite the contrast, a full-color, all-talking, big-budget Hollywood movie with major stars (Ben Kingsley, Jude Law, Sacha Baron Cohen) and serious technology, including a cool secret world concealed within Paris' Montparnasse train station, which for a price ($17.50 in Manhattan!) we get to explore in 3D.

But what on earth does this have to do with silent film comedy?

A lot, as it turns out, because [spoiler alert] that crotchety old man winding down his life selling wind-up toys in the train station is — true story — none other than silent film pioneer Georges Mélies, long since forgotten by the public, his early special effects movies all thought to have been destroyed. Not to worry: it is his fate to be rediscovered by an orphaned boy who secretly lives in the station, following in his father's and uncle's footsteps by caring for the clocks, one of which he of course ends up hanging from in the climactic chase scene, à la Harold Lloyd in Safety Last.

Speaking of chase scenes, Sacha Baron Cohen of Borat fame plays a nasty Keystone Kop with a leg brace who is intent on nabbing vagrant kids and packing them off to the orphanage, and therefore much chasing ensues. Unfortunately, Cohen's comic genius does not get full rein here, and the potential for physical comedy is squandered. What is special, and to my mind well worth the price of admission, is the loving recreation of Mélies' Paris studio and working methods — with Scorcese as a cameraman! — which constitutes the final section of the movie. Very cool. Indeed, the whole movie can be seen as a tribute to film preservation, with the film archivist (played by my former student, Michael Stuhlbarg) clearly modeled on Henri Langlois, founder of the Cinémathèque Française.

Here's the official trailer:

A good movie, not necessarily perfect, but its heart is in the right place, and it has an important story to tell. Two weeks ago, when I first saw both of these, I would have thought American judges would be favoring Hugo over The Artist, but the opposite seems to be happening. We'll have to wait and see but, either way, silent film is the winner.

Some More Links:
Ben Model's website
Entertainment Weekly: The Awesomeness of Silent Movies
Wall St. Journal review; they like The Artist; Hugo, not so much
NY Times review of Hugo
NY Times review of The Artist
Silent Comedy Mafia (forum)
Films Muet, French silent film blog
Lobbying for an Oscar (NY Times)
New Yorker review of Hugo by David Denby
New Yorker review of Hugo by Richard Brody

The Three Stooges Rebooted: First Trailer

2011-12-10T10:26:00.005-05:00

[post 220]

It doesn't open until April 13, 2012, but the first trailer for the new Three Stooges movie is out. With our iconic childhood heroes creepily leering after nuns and making an appearance on the Jersey Shore reality tv show, it's clear we're not in Kansas any more. Iconic, yes; moronic, very likely; ironic, no.

According to co-director Peter Farrelly, "They are Moe, Larry, Curly as you remember them. It's not a biopic. It's the episodes just as you saw but we rewrote, we have all new episodes. We have three episodes. Technically, each episode picks up where the last one left off. Each one begins with its own theme, so it's about an hour and 25 minutes. Three episodes, fun, old-fashioned, but it takes place present-day, and they look, dress and sound like the Three Stooges."

Yes, Sean Penn, Jim Carrey, and Paul Giamatti all dropped out of the project before it got started but, hey, you do get Larry David as one of the nuns (not the one in the bikini).

Not so sure I'll be able to sit through an hour and a half of eye poking, but I guess I'll try. Meanwhile...
• Here's the official movie site
• The IMDB page
• A Peter Farrelly interview about the project from way back in 2005.
• A negative reaction to the trailer from a London Guardian reviewer.
• An hourlong Three Stooges compilation (color shorts) available for free download here.

Stephen Colbert Joins the Bolshoi

2011-12-09T16:30:00.004-05:00

[post 219]

Stephen Colbert hosts David Hallberg from the American Ballet Theater, first American to perform with Moscow's legendary Bolshoi Ballet, and joins him and Hee Seo in a selection from Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker. Not uproarious, but you have to give Colbert credit here — better ballet chops than you'd expect from a stand-up comic!

The Colbert Report
Get More: Colbert Report Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,Video Archive

Which reminds me of an old Smothers Brothers bit that believe it or not was fought by the CBS censors back in the late 60s:
Tom (as a Volga boatman): Russia has a great ballet.
Dick: Bolshoi...
Tom: No, Dicky, really they do.

Thanks to Riley Kellogg for the link.

Guest Post: Hilary Chaplain Interviews Spy Monkey

2011-11-30T14:58:00.003-05:00

[post 218]
When I run into Hilary Chaplain, an old friend and fellow New Yorker, my usual greeting is "Oh, I didn't know you were back in the country." As a popular theatre clown with a one-woman show and as a teacher of clown and physical comedy, Hilary is in demand at festivals and variety theatres all over the world. It was on these travels that she became acquainted with Spy Monkey, and her enthusiasm about their work led not only to this guest post, but also to her bringing them to New York to conduct workshops. You can read more about Hilary here, and if you're anywhere near New York next weekend (Dec. 8–11), catch her show, A Life in her Day, as part of the Voice 4 Vision Puppet Festival at the Theatre for the New City. —jt
____________________________

Spymonkey was founded by Toby Park, Petra Massey and Aitor Basauri in 1997 and has since been joined by Stephan Kreiss. With their dark, edgy physical comedy rooted "somewhere between Monty Python, the Marx Brothers and Samuel Beckett" (The Houston Chronicle), and a quartet of performers from Spain, Germany and England, Spymonkey has proved to be a truly international phenomenon, enjoyed by and accessible to a wide range of international audiences.

In May 2010, I took a week-long clown workshop with Aitor Basauri, co-founding member and performer with the group in Brighton, England where Spy Monkey is based, and subsequently brought him to NY twice in 2011, assisted by Petra Massey on his second visit. He is a clown teacher at École Philippe Gaulier, Paris, and for Cirque Du Soleil, Montreal, and regularly teaches in London. I find Aitor to be one of the best clown teachers out there. His teaching method and pedagogy is drawn from his teachers, Phillipe Caulier, Pierre Byland, Mick Barnfarther, and Cal Macrystal. He has clearly created his own way and his classes are full of joy and fun and laughter. He dedicates himself to helping every student find their way.

During the workshop, I spoke to Aitor about his teaching.

“I think that everybody can be funny, and the way to show ‘your’ funny is by showing your stupidity. We see it when you do something that you know is not done or hasn’t come out in the right way. In order to do that we play lots of games that seem very simple, that the actor thinks they can play well. When they play badly, we see in their faces how stupid they feel. That’s the moment when we all laugh. That’s where we can all be funny. We laugh at stupidity because it’s very human. We like to see human people on the stage. If you see someone having lots of fun on the street — like kids, full of jokes and games — you’re amused at the amount of pleasure that kid is having.

We should have that kind of fun when we’re on the stage. We should have that kind of fun when we’re in the workshop. It should be a party, a playground, a place where you have lots of fun all the time. A place where you don’t have to worry about being funny. If you worry about being funny, you’ll never be funny. It’s great when someone tries to be funny and fails — but then they have to show it to the audience, that it didn’t work. If this doesn’t happen, we, the audience, know that they are not playing for us. And that’s the point — to play for us. If not for us, then who? Why is the audience here? The clown exists just for the audience. If there’s not an audience, the clown doesn’t exist. It sounds a little simple to say, but an actor can play when there is no audience. But the clown show is so clearly different every night because of the audience. There’s a clear dialogue.”

“In the clown workshop, we’re trying to see YOU. Once we do, once you’re happy on stage doing nothing, being stupid, you can do anything. We look for your pleasure, your fun and your optimism. We hate you for lying and for being clever. Anything will work – it’s not about what you’re doing. It’s your attempt and your pleasure that we laugh at. We often don’t even know why we’re laughing. It’s a dangerous place out there on the stage in front of the group not knowing what to do, but being OK in that place and finding something just from being there and in being honest in the immediate situation. When we stay safe and do what we think will work, it will very often fall flat because there’s no honesty in the moment.”

The four members of the Spy Monkey company are Aitor from Bibao, Spain; Stephan Kreiss is German and lives in Vienna; Petra Massey lives in London; and Toby Parks lives in Brighton. The four met about 10 years ago doing a show in Switzerland and, finding an affinity with each other through a common vocabulary stemming from their training with Phillipe Gaulier, they formed this company of clowns who like to act. Aitor says “many people will not call us clowns because we don’t use the classic red nose, but we are always very interested in the stupidity of the clown and in all our shows we try to push that to many places. In all our shows we’re clowns who like to act. That’s what we’re interested in. In our PR blurb we’ve been forced to get rid of the word clown because it’s generally misinterpreted. We’re interested in the stupid situations that the clown’s spirit creates in relationship to the audience and each other and the stories that they play.”

Here's my interview with Aitor Basauri and Petra Massey, conducted during their recent visit to New York.

Thank you to videographer Jim Moore, of VaudeVisuals fame!

Here are a few Spy Monkey videos. Go to their web site to read about current and past shows and to see more videos. I have yet to see them live, but I’ve watched their videos over and over and laugh every time!

Ooooops! — Copeland & Combs Strike Back

2011-11-28T23:02:00.002-05:00

[post 217]

My bad. On my Clowns Making Films — Part Three post I identified a movie Steve Copeland sent me as having been made by Steve and his Kelly Miller circus partner, Ryan Combs.

Nay, not so: "The clown with me, Trick Kelly, is a different friend than the one with whom I perform on Kelly Miller. Trick is a Clown College graduate, and he and his wife make excellent yak clown wigs (including the ones my partner Ryan Combs and I wear, and the ones seen in this video)."

To make amends, and because I would have surely included this film in that earlier post had I known about it at the time, I present Steve's Morning, a nifty movie starring Copeland & Combs, chock full of physical comedy choreography and sharp camera work.

The London International Mime Festival

2011-11-25T12:26:00.007-05:00

[post 216]

I live in New York and have this thing called a job, otherwise the London International Mime Festival would be a good excuse to visit The Big Smoke for nineteen days this January (as if I needed an excuse). If you're closer to London and less tied down, you'd be crazy to miss it.

The first thing you need to know about this festival, which has been held annually since 1977, is that it's no longer strictly a mime festival, but rather a heady mix of nouveau cirque, clowning, physical comedy, dance, puppetry, movement theatre and, yes, mime. In fact, they subtitle it "contemporary visual theatre." The second thing you need to know is that they bring in some very good work indeed.

Here are a few shots from their new brochure for 2012; click on the images for larger versions.

The festival runs from January 11th to January 29th, and tickets are only £15. You can view and download the brochure here and visit the full web site here.

See Every Show You Ever Missed!! — The TOFT Archive

2011-11-23T17:54:00.001-05:00

[post 215]

Okay, so I exaggerate ever so slightly, but I do want you all to know about TOFT, the Theatre on Film & Tape Archive at the NY Public Library for the Performing Arts, which I mentioned in my previous post. Located at Lincoln Center, it is definitely something to be grateful for this Thanksgiving!

Even if you live in New York, you're going to miss a lot of "must-see" shows for one reason or another. And then there are the shows that you would love the chance to see again, to study from a professional perspective, rewinding and replaying key sequences.

Well, your prayers are answered:

Since 1970, TOFT has preserved live theatrical productions and documented the creative contributions of distinguished artists and legendary figures of the theatre. With the consent and cooperation of the theatrical unions and each production's artistic collaborators, TOFT produces video recordings of Broadway, Off-Broadway, and regional theatre productions as well as dialogues between notable theatre personalities.

You heard it right. Thousands of theatre shows — and it's free!

Take for example that famous 1988 Mike Nichols production of Waiting for Godot at Lincoln Center starring Steve Martin, Robin Williams, F. Murray Abraham, and Bill Irwin. I was teaching at Juilliard at the time, so I was lucky to get to see it. Most people didn't, however, including a lot of angry Lincoln Center subscribers; the theatre was too small, the run too short. But all is not lost: the show was videotaped and you can sit and watch it, over and over again if you like, just by visiting the library.

And speaking of Bill Irwin, let's use his work as an example. Here's a partial list of videos featuring him available at TOFT:

1981: Bill Irwin Sketches
1981: Not Quite / New York
1982: Regard of Flight
1984: Accidental Death of an Anarchist (Fo)
1985: The Courtroom
1987: As Seen on TV
1988: Waiting for Godot (Bill as Lucky)
1989: Largely New York
1992: Texts for Nothing (Beckett)
1993: Fool Moon
1995: The Tempest
1996: Dialogue with Bill Irwin and David Shiner
1997: Scapin (Molière)
1998: A Flea in Her Ear (Feydeau; directed by Bill)
2003: The Harlequin Studies
2004: Mr. Fox—A Rumination
2004: Bill Irwin, Clown Prince (documentary)
2005: Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
2009: Waiting for Godot (Bill as Vladimir)

This list is partial because the online catalog is not complete, and because I've omitted dozens of clips of Bill performing at benefits, tributes, and award ceremonies. But you get the idea.

So let's say you want to use the archive... what do you do?
• Search the archive online first and choose what you want to view
• Call (212-870-1642) and make an appointment; you'll need to tell them your choice of videos
• Go there (no, you can't take out any of these items)

Once there, you can see the larger print catalog, with even more goodies.

Click here for details on using the online catalog. Basically the idea is that you have to search the entire NY Public Library catalog found at http://catalog.nypl.org/search. The items with a call number starting with NCOV, NCOX, or NCOW are available in the TOFT archive.

One catch: the archives are not meant for the general public, but for those doing serious research. No, you don't need to be writing a book. Performers studying performance qualify, but make yourself sound important!

So... what's not to like?

Don't live anywhere near New York? Now you have yet another reason to visit!

Happy Thanksgiving all. Eat too much, but do try to appreciate all the good that's being done by so many on so many fronts!

Book Report: "Fool," a Comic Novel by Christopher Moore

2011-11-20T19:12:00.014-05:00

[post 214]

The only chance you or I will have to see Bill Irwin play the fool in King Lear (see previous post, below) would be a visit to the NY Public Library for the Performing arts, whose Theatre on Film & Tape Archive offers a second chance to see most of the major shows mounted in New York, as well as a few regional offerings. (Not guaranteeing they'll have it, though.) Meanwhile you can have a lot of LOL fun by diving into the wacky antics of Christopher Moore’s 2009 novel, Fool, a loose and raunchy retelling of King Lear from the fool’s point of view.

Moore is a top-selling comic novelist who very much enjoys being outrageous. His novel Lamb, for example, recounts the missing early years of the life of Jesus (aka Joshua), as told by "Biff, the Messiah's best bud." Not surprising, then, that his bold imagination does not cower before the monumental status of what many consider to be Shakespeare’s greatest tragedy. It’s not that he doesn’t respect Shakespeare, because he does:

If you work with the English language... you are going to run across Will’s work at nearly every turn. No matter what you have to say, it turns out that Will said it more elegantly, more succinctly, and more lyrically — and he probably did it in iambic pentameter — four hundred years ago. You can’t really do what Will did, but you can recognize the genius that he had to do it. But I didn’t begin Fool as a tribute to Shakespeare; I wrote it because of my great admiration for British comedy.

Christopher Moore

British comedy cited in his afterword includes Monty Python, the Goons, Evelyn Waugh, Oscar Wilde, George Bernard Shaw, Tom Stoppard, Douglas Adams, Nick Hornby, and Eddie Izzard.

Moore does not buy into the traditional view of history, where great men, usually with noble motives, lead us poor commoners forward for the greater good and, if they err, the flaw is tragic, not endemic. Au contraire. This is the underbelly of history, where the mighty are totally corrupt, totally in it for wealth and sex, and anyone who can manage it beds everyone they fancy, with varying degrees of mutual consent.

Into this mess of greed and carnality steps one Pocket, Moore’s version of Lear’s fool: "The castle’s awash in intrigue, subterfuge, and villainy — they’ll be wanting comic relief between the flattery and the murders.”

_____________________________

“The fool’s number is zero, but that is because he represents the infinite possibilities of all things. He may become anything. See, he carries all of his possessions in a bundle on his back. He is ready for anything, to go anywhere, to become whatever he needs to be."

_____________________________

You don't need to have seen or read King Lear to follow and enjoy Fool. Like Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead, the story contains the major events and some of the language from the source, but with plot twists more radical than anything in Stoppard's more faithful take on Hamlet. Not only does Fool borrow elements from other Shakespeare plays, such as the three witches, but the fool's clandestine machinations are what drives the altered plot forward, starting with him conceiving and writing Edmund's treacherous letter. And (spoiler alert) it is eventually revealed that the fool and his apprentice Drool turn out to share an ancient bond to Lear’s own family saga.

Moore's writing is continually witty, and he delights in juxtaposing famous passages from the original with his own more down-to-earth language. Lear famously rages against the storm — "Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!" — and then turns to Pocket to say "It’s really fucking cold out here.” Or when in the opening scene Lear tells Cordelia "you’ll get nothing for nothing; speak again," the fool is quick to interject "Well, you can’t really blame her, can you? I mean you’ve given all the good bits to Goneril and Regan, haven’t you? What’s left, a bit of Scotland rocky enough to starve a sheep and this pox river near Newcastle?"

I'm not so sure Moore sustains the momentum for all of his 357 pages — some of the riffs do get repetitive, sometimes he tries too hard to show how clever he can be. The end result is not necessarily great literature, but it is a funny and breezy read, a thought-provoking, weird-sister concoction that is equal parts Shakespeare, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Kurt Vonnegut, and Lenny Bruce.

Bill Irwin Plays King Lear's Fool

2011-11-18T22:05:00.003-05:00

[post 213]

Never content to rest on his clown laurels, nor to just stick with well-paying movie gigs, Bill Irwin has consistently returned to the stage to star in ingenious pieces of his own creation or to take on challenging works by Beckett, Brecht, Moliere, Fo, Feydeau, and Shakespeare.

He is now at the Public Theatre, all of a block from my apartment here in New York, playing the Fool to Sam Waterston's King Lear, and your intrepid reporter is there. Oh wait, no I'm not. It's $85, the production got bad reviews, and it closes tomorrow. Three strikes and I'm out.

While the production was mostly panned, Bill's reviews were much better, especially in the New York Times:

You can read the whole Times review here.
You can read 20 — count 'em, 20 — more reviews at the Stagegrade web site.

The only video trailer for the show is here, but it's only about Waterston and it's all talking heads with no actual performance footage. More fun is this old Lear parody by Bill, one of the Clown Bagatelles that served as an afterpiece to his 1987 Regard of Flight. This is very much in the style of 19th-century talking clowns such as Dan Rice, who delighted in comic summations of Shakespearean plays.

Clowns Making Films — Part Three

2011-11-14T20:00:00.008-05:00

[post 212]

Everyone makes movies these days so why not clowns? Recent efforts I've come across range from filmed clown gags to full-blown attempts to recreate silent film comedies. You saw several of these in this recent post; at least you did if you know what's good for you! Those were all pieces presented this fall at the NY Clown-Theatre Festival. Here are some more that have come to my attention over the past couple of years, though I wouldn't be surprised if this is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

Before undertaking such a project, there are a lot of choices you'd have to make. Is it silent or sound? If silent, why? Modern or retro? Color or black & white? Do the comic characters dress and speak more or less naturalistically, or are they heavily stylized? Do we see them as "clowns" or as "normal people" whose behavior just happens to be highly eccentric? Do they live in 1911 or 2011? — or in some twilight zone?

The movies we showed in the festival and the movies in this post all have different answers to these questions, so judge for yourself!

The Blind Date
Let's start with the movie that sticks closest to original silent comedy style, Patrick McCarthy's Chaplin tribute film, The Blind Date. According to Ben Model, who supplied the link, "it was shown at the Chaplin conference last year, where David Robinson saw it and invited Patrick and his film to Pordenone this year." [Robinson is the author of the definitive bio, Chaplin: His Life and Art.]

In case you're wondering, the idea of imitating Chaplin goes way back to the heyday of his popularity, back before 1920, when an international Chaplin craze led to many a Chaplin imitation contest. Chaplin himself once entered one of these as a joke — and lost!

Wally on the Run
Next up is a short piece by veteran American circus clowns Trick Kelly and Steve Copeland, former Ringling performers who have worked with the one-ring Kelly Miller Circus for the past four years. That show, by the way, has received rave reviews as a very strong traditional one-ring circus, and I'm still kicking myself for having missed it last summer. In this piece, made for a music video contest for a Steve Martin banjo album, they bring the circus clown outdoors, in full makeup and costume, making good use of the camera so that the choreography nicely fills the larger setting.

There's a funny video interview with the duo here, and you can visit Steve's life-on-the-road blog here.

Rebound!
Happy Hour is or was a physical comedy trio comprised of Ambrose Martos, Mark Gindick, and Matthew Morgan. I've seen their stage show twice, and it has some pretty robust physical clowning. Rebound! is a zany film that transports their wacky characters from the stage to their own special urban playground.

See three more Happy Hour movies by going here and clicking on Video.

How to Quiet a Screaming Child
Drew Richardson, aka Drew the Dramatic Fool, is a solo theatre clown who has also made a continuing series of silent films. In fact, he bills himself as the "first person in the 21st century to make new short silent movies for mainstream movie theaters." Although these are solo pieces, usually filmed indoors, the cinematography and music lend them a vintage silent movie quality. In this one, Drew uses visual effects to play against himself. If that seems too modern to you, check out the use of the same effect by that brilliant Hollywood VFX artist, Buster Keaton, in The Playhouse (1921) and other movies!

• More silent movies starring Drew here.
• Purchase a DVD of twelve silent shorts by Drew here.
• A silent movie with students from Gallaudet University, directed by Drew.
• A silent movie Drew made with Joe's Movement Emporium Theatre Tech Program

The Big Lock Out
Bello Nock has a well-deserved reputation as a top-notch daredevil circus clown, but did you know he also makes silent films? Well, sorta-kinda. Back in 2007, Colorado businessmen Mark Marguiles and Kerry Berman decided that there weren't enough wholesome movies for families to watch, so they looked to the heyday of silent film comedy for inspiration. Feeling that Bello Nock was a perfect match for the project — "he was born eighty years too late," says Mark — and eager to get Bello's formidable comedic talents before a broader (movie theatre) public, they managed to pry Bello away from the circus ring long enough to feature him in a series of four short silent movies.

Unfortunately, distribution did not live up to expectations and the company, Family Flickers, has since been dissolved, though Mark says they'd be interested in reviving the effort if the sponsorship were there. Personally I find it amazing that in this day and age, when we all watch videos of different lengths and styles on the internet, that commercial movie houses still adhere to the same rigid format of having the same feature film run repeatedly throughout the day. What if every feature were preceded by a short film? Wouldn't that introduce variety and encourage all sorts of talent? Seems like a no brainer to me.

End of rant. Thanks once again to Ben Model for turning me on to this, and of course to Mark, Kerry, and Bello for their production efforts and for sharing The Big Lock Out with us!

12 Steps to Making a Slapstick Film
I'm sure at least half of you are starting to entertain the idea of making your own slapstick movie. If so, here's all you'll ever need to know (heh-heh), courtesy of the Bristol Silents Slapstick Festival, by way of Jonathan Lyons.

Somehow I think there'll be a part four to this one of these days....

Guest Post: Karen Gersch — Notes on Performing with Le Rire Médecin

2011-11-13T22:26:00.004-05:00

Steffi, Karen and Philippe

[post 211]

Karen Gersch is no stranger to these pages, having favored us with her art work in three previous guest posts (here, here, and here). This time around, Karen writes movingly about a return visit to hospital clowning while in Paris. [Click here for a new book on the Nez Rouges.]

_______________________________________

In 1991, Caroline Simonds founded Le Rire Médecin, an association of clowns that performs neither in circuses nor in theatres but in pediatric wards in France. Today, the association employs 85 specially trained clowns and operates in 37 pediatric wards in 14 hospitals throughout Paris, Ile-de-France, Orléans, Marseille, Nantes, Tours, and Nancy. They are considered a world-wide model for hospiclown projects, and take part in the launching, training and development of new groups in other countries.

I have always held Le Rire's clowns in great esteem for their emotional eloquence and non-reliance on gags, jokes and props to connect with their audience. What an honor — Caroline's invite — to come clown for a day. It had been years since I'd clowned in hospitals; not since the death of my longtime New York partner, Jonah Emsig and the demise of the CCU (Clown Care Unit) program's respect for its senior artists. It was even more welcomed when I heard I'd be working with two performers I've long admired: Steffi Liesenfeld and Philippe Aymard.

Many years ago, Steffi came to NY via the then-thriving hospital clown exchange program. Paired with two very brash CCU clowns, she showed me footage taken during work that day. Despite the boorish shackles of her partners, she remained luminously connected to them. Her humble sensitivity and serenity impressed me. She embodied clown, they broadcast ego.

I remember Philippe's arrival in Manhattan; he was overcome in the streets, weeping and laughing at the sight of the twin towers. The next day, my longtime friend Guto Vasconcelos (a clown with Cirque du Soleil's Dralion) called and begged me to find him a replacement partner, "someone smaller than me; a strong clown with both a humane and impish side.” (Kismet on a platter!)

That night I invited both Guto and Philippe to the opening of an art exhibit I'd curated at the Waterfront Museum. (It featured physical performers who were also visual artists — among them, Michael Moschen, Philippe Petit and Jacques Lecoq, whose drawings were sent posthumously by his wife.) My two clown invitees arrived, were introduced, and were inseparable for the night. It launched Philippe's six-year involvement with Dralion as Guto's partner. Today marked his first day back in a hospital, too.

Steffi drove us in the light snow and heavy traffic to Louis Mourier, a hospital I had last worked in with Serge and Lory at least thirteen years ago. Dressed and rouged, we admired ourselves in the narrow mirror, ruffling each other for the better view. The roles fell into place without speech; Steffi locked the changing room door as Philippe and I rudely lifted her coat tails. She swirled and glared us into dumb submission. She's a brilliant white, Steffi. Calmly controlling, sternly reproaching, yet capable of stumbling backwards from time to time into a clueless Auguste.

Here, then, are several highlights of trooping as a trio through Mourier:

Steffi cannot find us. With my see-through juggling scarves veiling our heads, we pose like frozen statues – me, Philippe & the 13-year-old Arab boy who has joined our escapades, abandoning his laptop and hospital bed. Philippe has pronounced us as "Les Trois Nuages."

Steffi, in ernest pursuit, is shadowed by four other children and a mother with toddler in arms. They approach us and Steffi laments that we have simply disappeared. She turns 360 just in front of us, exclaiming "there are only clouds here – where could they have gone?"

The Pediatric Ward. The friendly nurses are prepping us; Steffi and Philippe write studiously. Directly behind me, a baby is wailing in pure desolation. Loud painful caws that have me trembling to get up and go there alone. As soon as notes are done, Steffi and I wash our hands and head straight to her crib. She is seven weeks old; her tiny fists and face curled in rage. We stroke and sing gibberish to her softly till gradually, the howls subside. Her eyes close, she seems to be asleep. Steffi and I smile and turn away. Almost out the door when the wails begin again, even louder. The whole routine is repeated twice more. We ask a passing nurse if the baby is really okay or needing something.

"Dat baby's fine. She just wants to be held all the time."

I sigh, thinking: seven weeks old, no mother in sight, it's not unreasonable.

After rounds throughout the floor, switching partners now and then, Steffi and I are drawn back to that howling infant. I offer my finger, which she clamps onto, while Steffi gently strokes her head. We begin to hum a wordless tune; Philippe soon sidles in and joins us, as a lullaby no composer would want to claim is created. This time we stay in place; three hands caressing and assuring, until our voices match the quietude of her breath. Her face is less red, her limbs loose in repose. As one, with our eyes whispering, we back off and tiptoe backwards out the door. At last, she remains blissfully asleep and we leave beaming.

The Fartiste

2011-11-11T11:11:00.017-05:00

[post 210]
Pop Quiz: Name the famous Nobel-Prize winning author who wrote the following in his most celebrated work:

"Who farted?"

No, I am not kidding. And the answer is.... (drum roll, please) ....that's right, Samuel Beckett in Waiting for Godot. Which just goes to show that the gap between high and low art is not always as wide as we may think.

Which brings us to The Fartiste, which opened off-Broadway last week five years after winning Best Musical at the New York International Fringe Festival. It's based on the life of one Joseph Pujol, known to the French public as "Le Pétomane," literally the "farting maniac." Not only was Pujol a real person, but he was the hottest act in Paris circa 1900, launching his singular career at the world-famous Moulin Rouge. A bit of history from the show's program:

One summer’s day in the mid-1860′s, a young French boy named Joseph Pujol had a frightening experience at the seashore. Swimming out alone, he held his breath and dove underwater. Suddenly an icy cold feeling penetrated his gut. Frightened, he ran ashore, but then received a second shock when he noticed seawater streaming from his anus. The boy didn’t know it at the time, but this unsettling experience foretold of a gift that would later make him the toast of Paris and one of the most popular and successful performers of his generation.

Soon he discovered that by contracting his abdomen muscles, he could intentionally take up as much water as he liked and eject it in a powerful stream. Demonstrating this ability back at the barracks later provided the soldiers with no end of amusement, and soon Pujol started to practice with air instead of water, giving him the ability to produce a variety of sounds. It was in the army, that Pujol invented a nickname for himself that would later become a stage name synonymous throughout Europe: Le Petomane

In 1892 Pujol became a headliner at The Moulin Rouge. Pujol dressed formally and presented his routine with an unrelentingly deadpan delivery. He performed imitations, using the simple format of announcing and then demonstrating. He displayed his wide sonic range with tenor, baritone, and bass fart sounds. He imitated the farts of a little girl, a mother-in-law, a bride on her wedding night (tiny), the same bride the day after (loud), and a mason (dry– “no cement”). He imitated thunder, cannons and even the sound of a dressmaker tearing two yards of calico (a full 10-second rip). After the imitations, Le Petomane popped backstage to put one end of a yard-long rubber tube into his anus. He returned and smoked a cigarette from this tube, after which he used it to play a couple of tunes on a song flute. For his finale he removed the rubber tube, blew out some of the gas-jet footlights from a safe distance away, and then led the audience in a rousing sing-along.

No, they are not making that up. And if the act seems freakish and gross to you, keep in mind that Le Pétomane played for many of the crown heads of Europe, including King Leopold of Belgium, not to mention Sigmund Freud, though the latter's interest may have been more clinical.

The only surviving film clip of Pujol is this (silent) half-minute Edison Studios clip from 1900:

So what we have here is a very odd story or, as some reviewers have complained, a too ordinary story about a man with a very odd talent. Admittedly the plot is thin, the story more anecdotal than dramatic, so there's little suspense — "what's going to happen next?" — which makes the dynamics kind of flat. At a certain point, yet another song starts to feel like more of the same thing.

And it is light entertainment, a fact which seems to have escaped one dour critic, who made a point of comparing it unfavorably with Sondheim's Sunday in the Park with George. Give me a break! Did you really go to a show about a master farter expecting to pierce the artistic soul of another Georges Seurat?

Mikhail Baryshnikov poses
with Kevin Kraft; Rachel Kopf;
Analisa Leaming; Lindsay Roginski

I didn't, which is probably why I had such a good time. I got to share a table with Adam (clownlink.com) Gertsacov, Nat (themoonshow.com) Towsen, and the cast of the Reduced Shakespeare Company, and was flanked by two other tables where sat those legendary Mikhail B's. (I refer of course to Bongar and Baryshnikov.) I had two beers, laughed a lot, and enjoyed some strong comic performances.

______________________________________

"Kids enjoy farts. Farts are as funny as hell. Farts are shit without the mess. Look at it that way." — George Carlin

______________________________________

Kevin Kraft, a former Ringling clown and an actor with impressive credentials, brings Pujol to life with high energy and admirable physical dexterity, coordinating beautifully with "vocal sound effects artist" Steven Scott, who stands downstage right and provides all of the melodious flatulence. It is amazing what this man can do with a microphone! When Pujol performs his masterpiece, a symphony of instruments, the result is a marvelous Kraft-Scott physical comedy duet. The rest of the cast, aided by some witty lyrics, keeps those laughs coming. Character actor Nick Wyman (who is also the president of the Actors Equity union) is very funny as the singing narrator, and Herndon Lackey does a nice double as the producer of the Moulin Rouge and as Toulouse Lautrec. Also effortlessly doubling roles were the three singin', dancin' can-can girls; my favorite was the one who sat on my lap.

Here's some video related to the show.

First, the making of The Fartiste:

Here's the song The Great Pujol, against a background of Pétomane posters:

And here's Steven Scott showing off his remarkable audio talents as part of his stand-up comedy act act:

Some Links:
• The web site for the show
• Sample excerpts from the Fartiste score
• Le Pétomane, a short movie about Pujol, available in five parts on YouTube
• Adam Gertsacov's review on clownlink.com
• New York Post review
• BroadwayWorld.com review

Amazing — I made it through this entire post without making a single pun about farting, gas, wind, or asses. A rare display of maturity!

32+ Hours of Laurel & Hardy on DVD

2011-11-08T14:40:00.004-05:00

[post 209]

It hasn't been hard to find something approaching the complete works of Keaton, Chaplin, Lloyd, and Langdon on DVD in recent years, but when I wanted to purchase the Laurel & Hardy opus, I had to order a 21-disc box set available only in the UK and deal with all the region and formatting conflicts. All that has now changed with the release of a 10-disc box set suitable for the region 1, NTSC market, Laurel & Hardy: The Essential Collection. True, this has only 32+ hours of footage, as opposed to 68+ on the British set, but then who's counting?

I haven't reviewed the British box set because, not surprisingly, I haven't found the time to plow through it, and I haven't seen this one yet either, but there's a big article on it in today's New York Times, which you can read here. Here's a brief excerpt from the review:

Maturity remains a fluid and frequently elusive concept in Laurel and Hardy, which is certainly one of the reasons they appeal so much to children and remain a favorite of adults, who know how thin such facades can be. But what remains constant at every phase is the unbreakable bond of affection between the two friends, who seem at first so radically mismatched, both physically and temperamentally, but are ultimately inconceivable without each other. Among many other things “Laurel and Hardy: The Essential Collection” contains one of the most beautiful love stories the movies have ever told.

The list price is $100, but Amazon is selling it for $65.

"La Strada" Comes to the Stage

2011-11-02T11:31:00.008-04:00

[post 208]

Federico Fellini's 1954 Academy-Award-winning, neo-realist film, La Strada, starring Anthony Quinn and Giulietta Masina (Fellini's wife), is one of my all-time favorites. The brutal depiction of a marginal showman's life, the stunning black & white cinematography, and the compelling acting of Quinn, Masina, and of Richard Basehart in the role of "the fool" all hold up very well indeed nearly a half century later. The clown's power to satirize —and the limits of that power — struck a strong chord with me then that still rings true today. And according to our good friend Wikipedia, the movie was a source of inspiration for Bob Dylan's "Mr. Tambourine Man" and Kris Kristofferson's "Me and Bobby McGee."

Although the beautifully photographed roads and small towns of rural Italy play a key role in Fellini's story, this remains essentially a three-person drama, and thus suitable for stage adaptation. An attempt at a Broadway musical flopped way back in 1969, but a current NYC Spanish-language production directed by René Buch and Jorge Merced received good reviews and won some awards earlier this year, and is now back for another run through December 4th at the TBG Theatre.

Gerard Vazquez's stage adaptation is more of a clown show than a road show, setting the main plot as a story within a story, a tale concocted by three clowns who could be right out of Waiting for Godot. Once the main plot gets going, one of those clowns morphs into "the fool," the wirewalker and clown who cannot resist taunting the neanderthal strongman Zampano.

The dramaturgy gets a bit creaky at times, and I'm not sure it works as well as intended, but then it's hard to match the tragic dimensions of Fellini's epic. The clowning dominates the action well into the second act, and shows itself up to the task. With additional direction by clown consultant Audrey Crabtree, the trio of Winston Estevez, Maria Peyramaure, and Israel Ruiz prove themselves very adept at keeping the ball rolling as they play off one another as if they'd been on the road together for a very long time. Ruiz is also the wirewalker/fool and his animated (and award-winning) performance is worth the price of admission. Although not a clown by training, he's a gifted comic actor who uses all of his body all the time and keeps the show at a high energy.

Here are a couple of trailers. Sorry, no subtitles on the clips; the show is performed in Spanish but there are English supertitles projected onto a stage-right screen, which makes it easy enough to follow.

For more information and to order tickets, check out the company's web site here.

Jerry Lewis vs. Family Guy

2011-10-31T21:50:00.005-04:00

[post 207]

This is an amazing split-screen comparison of Jerry Lewis in The Errand Boy (1961) — where Jerry the lackey is miming being the boss — and the "Brian & Stewie" episode of Family Guy (2010), put together by YouTuber MrEthernex. The music is Count Basie's "Blues in Hoss Flat" and appears in both original versions in lieu of dialogue.

In the lawsuit that followed, Seth MacFarlane claimed the similarities were purely coincidental! Can you believe it? Well you shouldn't, because I just made that up. No lawsuit, no plagiarism; take it as a sweet tribute to Lewis. Thanks to Tom Etzel for the link!

Stunt Tips from Jackie Chan: Everyday Objects

2011-10-29T22:04:00.000-04:00

[post 206]

One of the things I like the most about Jackie Chan is his imaginative use of ordinary household items in his fight and chase scenes. In this clip he talks about it and shows a few examples.

Click here for a previous Jackie Chan stunt tip.

Early Film: Trapeze Striptease

2011-10-28T09:51:00.003-04:00

[post 205]

Here's an oddity, a Thomas Edison film from 1901 featuring an enthusiastically received striptease on the solo trapeze. True, she finishes with more skin still covered than most of today's acts start with, but I suspect it was still pretty risqué at the time.

Clowns Making Films — Part 2 of 3

2011-10-23T13:39:00.020-04:00

[post 204]

Last month I posted a preview of the Clowns on Film evening at the NYC Clown-Theatre Festival, perhaps a shameless piece of self-promotion since I was co-hosting the event with Audrey Crabtree. I wrote that the work that evening would be great, since Audrey (festival co-director ) had told me so and I believed her, though honestly I hadn't seen most of the films before stepping on stage. Of course my hidden agenda was to try to fill the voluminous Brick Theater to the rafters. If you've never been there, think Radio City Music Hall. (Yes, that was sarcasm.)

As luck would have it, we actually did sell out, the movies were truly excellent, and the audience had a helluva fun time. Plus we bribed them with free prizes.

I can't replicate the evening for you since for that special night all of the filmmakers were in the audience and three of the movies were accompanied by live performance. And need I mention the charm, wit and acrobatic partnerings of the aforementioned co-hosts? However, I can now show you more than I could in that previous post, because three of the movies have since been put online. So... "let's go to the videotape."

Behind the Nose
Another confession. This one was already on YouTube but I didn't mention that in my previous post so I could lure unsuspecting patrons to the live screening and separate them from $15 of their accumulated wealth. Also, I knew it would be a hoot for everyone to watch this short film sitting in an audience of fellow clowns, all of whom struggle with the popular perception of clowning prevalent in America and, in this case, in Canada. Funny stuff, but still sadly true. The movie is the work of those fantastically spunky Toronto clowns, Morro & Jasp, who an hour earlier had just finished performing live their latest show, Morro & Jasp Gone Wild.

Check out Morro & Jasp's web site here.

Isaac Littlejohn Eddy
Isaac is not only a performer in the New York edition of Blue Man Group, but he also has the coolest name of us all — though Zea is a close second! Isaac is at least a double threat, a performer but also a cartoonist / animator whose work has been seen in the New Yorker and Time Magazine. His festival piece was an updated version of the poor guy trying to choose between the advice of his good angel on one shoulder, his demon on the other, with Isaac performing live as the tormented soul while his would-be spiritual advisors appeared onscreen in the form of 2D animation. A very well-received piece, but Isaac says it's still a work-in-progress and he wants to use it in future live performances, so he's not posting it online just yet. You can, however, see plenty of his other work simply by clicking here.

Zea Barker
Zea, aka Bony Lil, is yet another performer-animator dynamo, the star and mastermind behind two films about "the extreme opposite ends of the creative process." The first is Distraction, everything that prevents us from getting rolling, and the second is Creation, that happy time when all the juices are flowing. Both movies are silent, in black & white, and come with soundtracks, but at the festival they were presented accompanied by two live musicians plus Zea and her director, Michael Pope, doing sound effects on a variety of ingenious devices. Highly original pieces that display strong talent and a heckuva lot of work.

Distraction

Creation

You can see more video, animation and art work at Zea's web site and you can view her performance reel here.

A Day's Messing
Jeff Seal's A Day's Messing is unusual in that it is a modern-day silent film that stylistically emulates the films of the 1920s. This is easier said than done, but in this case the experiment works quite well indeed. Story, cinematography, and physical comedy are all right on target, and its world premiere at the festival received enthusiastic and sustained applause from the live audience. Now that it's been posted on Vimeo, you too can watch it. Enjoy!

And check out Jeff's monthly Dead Herring variety show in Williamsburg (Brooklyn) on Facebook!

Congratulations to all, and thanks for your excellent work!

These aren't the only clowns making films, so stay tuned for Part 3, a future post on more clowns exploring filmmaking possibilities......

Acrobatic Planking, or, the Novelty Bookshelf

2011-10-17T23:05:00.000-04:00

[post 203]

Surely you've heard of planking? Quite the fad. But so far this is my favorite!

Thanks to Dimitri Bogatirev for the link!

‪Bill Irwin's "Largely New York" at the 1989 Tony Awards

2011-10-15T21:17:00.002-04:00

[post 202]

An excerpt from the full-length show, introduced by Angela Lansbury. Great stuff, even if they lost out to Wendy Wasserstein's The Heidi Chronicles. Thanks to Jango Edwards for the link.

What Will They Think of Next Department: Mimes Directing Traffic (for real)

2011-10-14T14:53:00.000-04:00

[post 201]

Associated Press, Caracas: Mimes gesture as they stand in a crosswalk in Caracas, Venezuela, Friday Oct. 7, 2011. The mayor of the city's eastern district of Sucre has launched a unique program aimed to encourage civility among reckless drivers and careless pedestrians, putting 120 mimes at intersections to politely and silently scold violators. The campaign kicked off this week as mimes posted at busy intersections mocked people who jaywalked or acted brutish behind the wheel. (AP Photo/Ariana Cubillos)

Click here for the full article. Thanks to Marisol Rosa-Shapiro for the link!

Beijing Opera: The Fight in the Dark

2011-10-10T22:57:00.002-04:00

[post 200]

Post #200. Wow! I thought I was getting out of this business, but I guess the money's just too good. (Yes, that was sarcasm.)

So.... here we are again.

Let's celebrate #200 with one of my favorite pieces, The Fight in the Dark from the Beijing Opera (where Jackie Chan trained). If you think about it, being "in the dark" is a good metaphor for comedy, especially the physical kind. In this classic piece, two mortal enemies — only it turns out they aren't — find themselves in a room together with the lights out. Naturally they try to kill each other.

This is one part comedy to five parts friggin' incredible physical dexterity, but there are some real nice comedic moments where they slow down the mayhem long enough to savor the predicament. Enjoy!

Some links:
• Click here for previous post of Monkey King act from Beijing Opera.
• Jackie Chan was a student of Beijing Opera from the age of seven to seventeen, which you can read about in detail in his autobiography, I Am Jackie Chan: My Life in Action.

The "Fake" Physical Comedy Lecture

2011-10-08T17:09:00.005-04:00

[post 199]

In The Art of Laughter, which I reviewed three posts ago, Jos Houben tells you what's funny, performs something to illustrate his theme, and then we do indeed laugh. All pretty straightforward. But there's another kind of physical comedy lecture-demo featuring a less trustworthy narrator, where there's a disconnect between lecture and demo, between our host's pretentious words and silly actions.

‪Here's Zach Galifianakis‬, from Comedians of Comedy, with a deliberately "fake" lecture:

And here's a Monty Python classic from their Hollywood Bowl concert, with Graham Chapman lecturing very intellectually about comedy while his cohorts do their best to surprise us with twists on standard bits. Funny!

Good as these are, the ultimate to my mind is Bill Irwin's The Regard of Flight, which borrows this notion and transforms it into a brilliant 46-minute, post-modern theatre piece. Irwin's efforts to deliver a manifesto on the founding of a "new theatre" are constantly undermined by a nettlesome critic who forces him to admit to his reliance on the tried and true props of the variety stage. Here are three excerpts:

_________________________________

Coming Soon: Rowan Atkinson's physical comedy lecture, Laughing Matters (aka Funny Business)

Some links:
• Two previous posts in which Dick Van Dyke delivers mock physical comedy lectures.
• Leslie Nielsen introductions to a series of Three Stooges movies on American Movie Channel. Some stabs at a humorous lecture here.
• Buy DVD of Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl here.
• Regard of Flight was available from PBS as a VHS, but not any longer, and is now hard to find for purchase, though you could check back here or on eBay.

Stunt Tips from Jackie Chan: The Wire

2011-10-06T15:08:00.000-04:00

[post 198]

Here's an interesting clip of Jackie Chan explaining how he enhances some of his less spectacular falls.

Happy Birthday, Buster Keaton!

2011-10-04T14:04:00.003-04:00

[post 197]

Well, maybe it's his birthday. The year was 1895 and the day was probably today.

It's fitting that a blogopedia by the name of "All Fall Down" should celebrate Buster's birthday by featuring a compilation of Keaton clips set to a song named "Don't Bring Me Down" (Electric Light Orchestra, 1979). Thanks to YouTuber ebhiggins90 for the edit, which came my way by way of Riley Kellogg by way of Drew Richardson.

Jos Houben: The Art of Laughter

2011-10-01T09:46:00.009-04:00

[post 196]

It takes more than a little bravery to tell an audience outright that you are going to explain to them how comedy works and that you intend to make them laugh a lot in the process, even suggesting that they don't have much choice in the matter. But if they don't laugh, you lose on two counts. And it takes a lot of talent, training, and practice to pull it off as well as Jos Houben did Tuesday night in New York at an evening hosted by the Alliance Française as part of their Crossing the Line performance series. Yes, lots of laughs and a standing ovation.

Jos is one part vintage vaudevillian and one part Lecoq-trained movement specialist, a dynamic combination that infuses The Art of Laughter with a whole lot of fun and just as much insight. With only a chair, table, bottle, glass, hat, and napkin as props, this "master class" breaks physical comedy down into manageable chunks, building both the gags and the theory as he goes.

The bottom line for Jos is the human body — "none of you showed up here tonight without yours" — and especially the significance of our verticality, which our egos so readily equate with dignity. Some of this reminds me of a Tom Leabhart lecture-demo on the inner experience / physical manifestation work of François Delsarte, which certainly influenced modern mime, but with Jos the backbone is clearly connected to the funny bone. Many of the comic moments that arise, from the simplest trip to disastrously awkward encounters with the opposite sex, are funny because of our deviance from this vertical ideal.

Jos starts with the simplest physical comedy moves: a trip, a hand fumbling an object, a shoe flying off. How do we react to these? What if others are watching?? He builds these blunders into various combinations and then lets them occur in simple situations with the other. What happens between a man and a woman? Between two guys?

There are a few clips on YouTube, and I offer four below to give you a taste, but they fail to convey the overarching narrative that makes the whole of this presentation far greater than its (excellent) parts. If you have the opportunity to see this show live — and Jos does perform it in English and in French all over the world — do not miss it!

Preview, in French:

Again in French, two more sustained sequences. The first selection focuses on body parts, starting with the pelvis.

The second clip demonstrates creating "an accident" and building it into a sequence.

Some Links:
• Read Jos's impressive bio here.
• See the work of Jos's students from the École Jacques Lecoq, performing at the Louvre, in this previous post.
• Web site for the École Jacques Lecoq, where Jos currently teaches.
• See Jos in New York, November 9th thru December 4th, in Fragments, short pieces by Samuel Beckett, directed by Peter Brook.

Bicycle Parkour — More Danny MacAskill

2011-09-26T20:20:00.002-04:00

[post 195]

I like bikes.

I like comedy cycling, but I also like just plain old biking. Yes, I'm one of those annoying bike evangelists who bikes everywhere and tries to make you feel bad for not doing the same. Not surprising, then, that I'm awed by Danny MacAskill and his amazing bike tricks — what I am officially dubbing bicycle parkour™ — and which I featured in this previous post.

That ride from 2009 was unbelievable enough, but happily there are two more recent professionally produced videos. Way Back Home (2010) takes our man Dan on an amazing journey from Edinburgh to Skye. Thanks to Martie LaBare for the link!

And from last month (aka August 2011), here's Industrial Revolutions from the project Concrete Circus. Who knew rusting industrial waste could be so much fun?

Don't try this at home, but if you do, wear a helmet!

For more cool stuff, check out Danny's web site and the MacAskill page of his corporate sponsor, Red Bull.

DVD Report: "Learn Slapstick (Get Physically Funny)"

2011-09-23T11:19:00.004-04:00

[post 194]

Yep, that's what Wikipedia says: "Physical comedy, also known as slapstick..." And if you go on the Discussions page for their physical comedy entry, you read "I propose this article to be merged with the Slapstick article. There are a lot of information on this article that is much the same in the slapstick article, and hence redundant. In my opinion, the two articles will be more informative and detailed when merged."

I don't have enough time to go around editing Wikipedia, but I couldn't resist replying:

"I disagree. Strongly! Slapstick historically refers to comic violence, and it should be the goal of an encyclopedia to retain these distinctions. The original slapstick, which dates back at least to the commedia dell arte, was a device intended to create maximum noise with minimal striking force: two slats of wood are hinged at one end so that when its trajectory is halted on or near the victim's body, the back slat strikes the front slat, creating a loud smacking sound.

Physical comedy is a broad term that encompasses the predominance of movement in creating laughs — thus "a silly face", one of the three characteristics mentioned in this article, does not belong as a defining term. The term 'Physical comedy" can be equally applied to some or most of the work of Pilobolus, Bill Irwin, Marcel Marceau, Buster Keaton, and Jacques Tati. Very little mock violence in their work."

Which brings me to Christopher Lueck's instructional DVD, Learn Slapstick (Get Physically Funny). We're off to a better start here, because slapstick is clearly defined as "comedy stage combat," and this is meant to include self-inflicted damage, as well it should. Christopher is the main brain behind the New York Monthly Downtown Clown Revue and teaches slapstick here in town at the Slapstick Dojo. The DVD, which runs slightly under 40 minutes, is subtitled Intro to Slapstick and mention is made of more DVDs to come. I first reported on this project in this earlier post. Because I was out of the country, I did not yet have a physical DVD to view. Now that I do, here's a more complete accounting.

The curriculum is oriented towards breaking down the physical technique, and covers the following moves:

Warmups

Mostly rolling around joints

Five Basic Slaps

• Front slap

• Backhand slap

• Uppercut slap

• Top hit

• Eye Poke

Trips & Slips

• Front trip

• Back trip

• Front slip

• Back slip

Falls

• Front scissor fall

• Back sit fall

• Back shoulder roll

• Side (crescent) fall

• Plank fall from knees

Chairs

• Finger Slam

• Face Slam

• Toe Slam

Funny Faces & Double Take

Each of these is broken down into clear steps and demonstrated by Christopher and two assistants, Mariko Iwasa and Steven Maier. The techniques are very basic, what you'd cover in the first few sessions of a hands-on class, but even an experienced physical comedian might pick up a few tips.

To see the approach to teaching, go to the DVD's web site for a sample video on the front trip.

I teach an intro physical comedy class at Bloomfield College to students with little or no performance or movement training, so I decided to show them the DVD at the end of our second class this fall semester. I think they found it useful, especially because they were able to step back and see it done, step by step, without having to be nervous about being called upon to try it themselves right away! However, even though these students are inexperienced, they were observant enough to point out when certain techniques did not look natural and motivated, which was true of a couple of slips and falls.

Overall, the clarity and presentation are good, the emphasis on safety commendable, and Christopher's affable and reassuring tone helps make the material approachable. There is less discussion of comedy than one might like, and the pedagogy does push a certain style of slapstick, which is fine, except that it might give some the impression that this is the only way to go.

That style is more lighthearted and goofy, one that emphasizes intentional silliness over gritty realism, more circus clown than apache dance. In this cheerful style, reactions should register annoyance more than actual pain. Don't get me wrong: this is of course fine. We're not talking good or bad here, just modes. Ultimately it all comes down to the characters and the storyline. There is certainly darker material to be found in the works of such slapstick stalwarts as The Keystone Cops, Charlie Chaplin, and The Three Stooges, whereas Monty Python is often pure silliness. Room enough for both!

One assumption of this style is that it does not matter if we see the performers making the knap (the slapping sound). Here's a short sequence to give you a better idea what I mean:

Again fine, except if you don't learn and practice being able to hide the knap, you'll only be able to do it this way.

All in all, you'll very likely get your $20 worth, so click here to order. But some suggestions for future volumes:
• DVD chapters! This is not a VHS!! We want to be able to go back to a specific technique without scrubbing through the entire presentation!
• More material! 38 minutes is pretty slim for a DVD, even if it's only $20.
• More comedic application. Technique is essential, but it only gets us half way there.

DVD Report: "Idiocracy" (The Movie Hollywood Doesn't Want You To See)

2011-09-17T19:10:00.009-04:00

[post 193]

In case you haven't noticed, I think clowns and physical comedy are like totally RELEVANT and SIGNIFICANT in our modern world because we're all still pretty dumb at least part of the time, though we're less likely to admit it, and human error is still titanically inevitable. Which is what clowns have been telling us for several millennia, and the only good news is that we're still able to laugh about it. So if you need to justify your clown existence to an annoying "friend" or to that condescending uncle, read and steal these quasi-intellectual arguments I wrote about here and here.

All of which brings me to the futuristic satire Idiocracy (2006), which is more about the overall dumbing down of America than it is about human error afflicting even the most intelligent minds... but close enough. And funny.

I was urged to watch the movie by New York City's own intellectual-in-residence, bon vivant, and man about town — of course I'm talking about Paul Persoff — who enticed me with the following opening scene, which is indeed quite brilliant:

BTW, damn good makeup and acting job on the aging, eh?

Directed by Mike Judge (Office Space; Beavis & Butthead, The Animation Show), Idiocracy sends two statistically average Americans five hundred years into the future, where they discover they're the smartest people on the planet. Now I'm not all that into science fiction, but I found this satirical premise deliciously pertinent to Life As We Live It. It can be hard to translate the resulting gags into a full-length movie, and the laughs are not as rapid-fire or as hardy as in Borat, another 2006 comedy with a similar theme, but the movie worked for me on about a four stars out of five level. Some might find it exaggerated. My reaction was that it won't take five hundred years to reach the dystopia portrayed in Idiocracy. More like fifty.

One of the many troubling aspects is its depiction of the entertainment of the future, which consists of gross jokes and stupid people watching stupider people suffer. The top movie is Asses: ninety minutes of frequently flatulent butts. And here's the top tv show, Ow, My Balls!

Much more troubling was the shabby treatment the movie received from its distributors. What Variety labeled "a rare piece of rebellious political spoofery from a major studio" may in fact have been too hot for the studios to handle. As Ann Homaday wrote in the Washington Post:

"When Mike Judge's highly anticipated futuristic satire Idiocracy opened and promptly closed in a few cities last fall (it never played Washington), the blogosphere lit up. Did Twentieth Century Fox, the film's distributor, intentionally dump the movie?... Put simply, did Fox do to Idiocracy what it had done to Judge's 1999 comedy Office Space, and was the new movie eligible for similar cult status? We may never know precisely who did what to whom and why (although a hilarious sendup of Fox News in the movie may not have helped)."

Check it out yourself on DVD (available on NetFlix). Some links:

• The Movie Hollywood Doesn't Want You To See, a good review of the movie from the online magazine, Slate
• Idicocracy on Rotten Tomatoes, where it garners 73% from the critics but only 57% from the general audience
• Mike Judge on Wikipedia
• A YouTube video, one of many, about how dumb most Americans are.
• A Maureen Dowd column about stupidity in American politics.

Festival Preview: Clowns on Film

2011-09-14T22:53:00.005-04:00

[post 192]

This post is not mere shameless self-promotion, at least not entirely. This Friday night (Sept. 16th) at 10 p.m., Audrey Crabtree and I will be co-hosting a presentation of short clown films at the NY Clown-Theatre Festival at the Brick Theater in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. And you should come, because we'll be lonely without you, plus it's going to be pretty exciting. Here's why...

This is not just one of those screenings where you sit and politely watch movies in the dark. No way. One movie comes with a live band and another with live performance by Isaac Littlejohn Eddy of Blueman Group. And not only that, all the filmmakers will be on hand for you to meet. In fact, Morro and Jasp are doing a live show at 8 p.m. which is totally different from their movie. I saw them last year, they are downright funny, and their content is quite fresh for clowns — last year's show was about puberty — so come for a double-header.

As if that weren't enough, Audrey and I are concocting some surprises for you. All I can say, and this is strictly off the record, is that there will be prizes awarded and you, and I do mean the you who is reading this post at this very moment, have an excellent chance of winning.

Here are a couple of sneak-preview trailers for you.

Lily Bone's Creation:

Check out their web site here.

And here's a short trailer for Jeff Seal's silent movie, A Day's Messing which, miraculously, is that rare commodity, a successful modern-day silent film short.

For more information, go to bricktheater.com and click and scroll until you find this in a version large enough to actually read:

Hope to see you there! Really.

What Advertisers Really Think of Us

2011-09-14T07:44:00.001-04:00

[post 191]

Two compilations of "doing it all wrong" moments taken from tv commercials that promise to fix all that.

Part one — help!

Part two, not quite as funny.

Thanks to Jimmy Meier for the link!

Movement Training for Actors

2011-09-12T23:17:00.001-04:00

Moni Yakim teaches a class at Juilliard
(Photo: Jessica Katz)

[post 190]

The notion that physical comedians and other movement artists might have something to teach traditional actors goes back at least a century, when such innovative directors as Jacques Copeau in France and Vsevolod Meyerhold in Russia hired accomplished clowns and variety performers as guest instructors. In the United States, this became a trend in the 60s and 70s as "experimental" theatres sought to break the confines of the fourth wall and Stanislavski method acting to forge more theatrical performance styles.

Jewel Walker and Hovey Burgess were two of the first teachers to become influential fixtures at major universities ((Carnegie-Mellon and NYU). Nowadays no respectable college acting program is without its movement specialist and — if you believe the optimistic job descriptions you see in the ad postings — the desired skill set includes mime, circus, clown, acrobatics, masks, dance, biomechanics, yoga, and stage combat, not to mention the techniques of Laban, Feldenkrais, Alexander, Grotowski, Decroux, Lecoq, and Pilates. If you can integrate it with vocal training, so much the better! All this for a position that is often low on the faculty pay scale and not even tenure-track.

Movement training for actors was not just some trendy idea that came and went. It is now widely accepted in the profession and has demonstrably expanded the range and possibilities of many a successful performer. I bring this up because I recently stumbled upon two useful articles on the subject in American Theatre magazine that are available on the web. This first offers a broad survey of the field, what the disciplines are, and what value various teachers and performers see in it.

Here are a few quotes:

"Suppose I hit a line drive over the head of the second baseman. I'm off running right away. And I'm watching the ball, and there comes the possibility I can get to second base on this hit. My body knows without looking where first base is, and I need to watch only the ball and the fielder. If I have to look down at my feet, I've lost. That's like being on stage—you have to be super aware." — Jewel Walker

"What is essential? It tends to change, depending upon the time period. I've been teaching for a long time, and students used to be a bit more out there and crazy: curious, and wildly splattering themselves on the walls. So it was a matter of focusing that wild energy. Students coming in now are better trained, in many ways, and more disciplined. Sometimes you want to tweak that wildness." — Jim Calder

"The hardest things to teach actors are that the pedestrian body embodies a kind of virtuosity, and that movement has a theatrical power that must be trusted in its own right. Actors want to act; they want to create some reason why they are standing on the stage. I take that away from an actor—I say, 'Oh, just raise your arm, just take four steps to the right, just bow your head'—it has meaning. The body is expressing things that are way beyond what you can impose on it in this moment." — Annie Parsons

"Three strong voices spoke to me—Bertolt Brecht, Jerzy Grotowski and Étienne Decroux—and I see them as a triangle of aspects of what I think constitutes full actor training. From Grotowski, it was the visceral aspect, of going beyond the socially acceptable and really finding the primal, visceral self; and from Brecht it was the whole aspect of dramaturgy and social relevance and the importance of the relationship of the artist on stage to the audience. And from Decroux, the concept of shape and form spoke to me—this idea of the actor's ability to physically manifest thought and give specificity to emotion.... The laws of physics tell us that gravity falls through us and pulls us to a perfect vertical. And life pushes us off of that sense of neutrality. If we understand that neutrality, then we understand how a character is pulled off of being perfect. Life creates our imperfections. And a character is a beautiful collection of imperfections." — Kari Margolis

"I deal with various forms of the mask, including the red nose. One is the full-faced character mask; it is a nonverbal mask. I follow that by the neutral, universal mask—also nonverbal—and that I follow with the character half-mask, which is a verbal mask. All of that is followed by the red nose, for what I call contemporary classic clowning. [Prior to the clown work, Francesconi works with...] “...movement improvisation, which is nonverbal. It is somewhat abstract, somewhat of a combination of modern dance and eccentric behavior, which is the basis, really, of physical comedy. 'Eccentric behavior' could be something as simple as a body part going out of control. It is essential that the early work be somewhat abstract and focused on the body in space, rather than on creating story."

— Robert Francesconi

You can read the whole article here.

The second article features ten prominent performers, each explaining what approach they use for creating a more dynamic stage presence.

Again some quotes:

"I encourage Synetic actors to train in parkour movements because there is an emphasis on gaining knowledge of one's body in space as it relates to dangers (falling, colliding with objects, losing balance) and applying that knowledge to move through obstacles with ease and safety. To me, parkour is about understanding the relationship between your body and the physical world, and enjoying it. Learn to fall, roll, land, climb and interact with the physical world so that you can perform better in your run, play or dance piece. The real joy of parkour is that it changes how you look at your environment—everything becomes a potential playground!" — Ben Cunis

"Lecoq is a way, a path—not a 'technique'—that asks the actor: What do you have to say? Tragedy, commedia and bouffon all have a different approach, but the overarching theme in Lecoq is 'actor as creator.' The process helps you develop your own voice, not just as an actor but also as a theatre artist. That rounded training is lacking in the U.S. The empowerment of the actor to understand more than just the role he is playing is not often embraced here, and in New York there is a palpable hunger for physical-theatre training." — Richard Crawford

"I just played Florindo, the boastful lover in A Servant of Two Masters, at Yale Rep. I went back to basics: leading with the chest, exercising muscles in my back, realizing how to look upward when I walked around, asking where my character's power comes from. Florindo is a funny character, but not to himself. Even doing commedia, I had to find the truth in this body. I did a whole monologue walking straight downstage till I got to the apron, and then ran all the way back crying and yelling. To do that eight times a week, you have to go back to your training. That's what Moni's [Yakim] about: the freedom inside the body when doing these extreme characterizations." — Jesse Perez

And you can read that whole article here.

The articles have lots of links, plus the reader comments to each article provide some additional information and pespectives.

Beating Yourself Up... the VFX Way

2011-09-11T20:06:00.003-04:00

[post 189]

In July, I did a post on Beating Yourself Up for Fun & Profit. Good stuff, if I don't say so myself. Planning my Bloomfield College visual effects class for the fall reminded me of this pretty sharp VW commercial. All VFX, but a variation on the same theme...

"Flocked" at the NY Clown-Theatre Festival

2011-09-10T19:51:00.008-04:00

[post 188]

Okay, let's be honest, it would be pretty bogus of me to pretend to be objective while reviewing a show (Flocked) that stars two friends of mine (Audrey Crabtree & Gabriela Muñoz) and is directed by a third (Hilary Chaplain), now wouldn't it? On the other hand, I did swear on the Blogopedia Bible to report on all interesting physical comedy in the known universe, so I would risk being consigned to eternal Blog Purgatory were I not to mention the show at all.

Luckily there is a thin razor line of a solution: submit a straight factual report devoid of opinion or human emotion. No problem.

Background:
• Audrey lives in New York City, Gabriela in Mexico City.
• Audrey is tall, or at least taller than Gabriela.
• They met at last year's NYC clown-theatre festival.
• They worked together this spring for a month in Mexico, which you can read more about here.
• They are planning a Mexico City clown-theatre festival for March 2012.
• A hurricane delayed Gabriela's arrival in NYC.
• Hilary worked with them 29 hours a day since Gaby's arrival.

Photo by Joann Jovinelly

Storyline:
Flocked takes the form of a loud and raucous but non-verbal confrontation between two bird-like characters, one sweet and friendly, the other territorial and stand-offish. They communicate through an extensive vocabulary of movement and chirping, sometimes competing with each other through elaborate dances, sometimes through direct or indirect physical contact, in a relationship that continually evolves over the course of the 45-minute piece.

Audience Reaction:

Photo by Joann Jovinelly

Audience laughter was frequent, loud, and sustained. Post-mortem chit-chat was quite positive. Some old guy in the third row especially laughed a lot. This gentleman was heard to comment that when he saw the entertaining 10-minute preview in the opening night cabaret he had wondered if they had enough material for a full-length piece. He was happy to find that it worked even better as a full show because the context was clearer and the character development made it a much richer piece. He was hoping more people would get to see the show before it closes this Sunday (Sept. 11), and said he wished he had a blog or something so he could tell more people about it.

Links:
Another blogger reviews the show
Gabriela's web site.
Audrey's web site.
Hilary's web site.
New York Clown-Theatre Festival
Joann Jovinelly Flickr album
Jim Moore photos

The New York Clown-Theatre Festival Opens!

2011-09-08T11:06:00.010-04:00

[post 187]

I just got back from the opening night of this century's 6th NY Clown-Theatre Festival, a cabaret hilariously hosted by the Leroy Sisters (Aimee German & Jenny Sargent) and featuring excerpts from most of the performers we'll be seeing in the festival. If this preview was any indication, it's a strong and varied lineup.

Since this is a physical comedy blog, I should hazard a guess as to which shows are the most movement oriented. From what I've seen, my predictions are Flocked (Audrey Crabtree & Gabriela Muñoz), I Have Never Done This Before (Joel Jeske), Wing-Man (Mark Gindick), and Neon Lights (Chris Manley & Jeff Seal). Also worth mentioning, at least from my jaded perspective, is that on September 16th Audrey and I will be co-hosting a series of short clown films. Come see some good work and say hello! And finally, let me recommend the clown workshop, Touching the Space, being conducted by the delightfully funny Mexican clown Gabriela Muñoz on September 12th and 13th.

Neon Lights

Wing-Man

The festival, once again directed by that multi-tasking, hyperactive duo, Robert Honeywell and Audrey Crabtree, runs through September 25th at Williamsburg's Brick Theater, just two subway stops into Brooklyn, and tickets are only $15.

For more info, go to http://bricktheater.com/ and then click on Amuse Bouche.

For some great opening night photos, see this post on Jim Moore's VaudeVisuals blog, as well as this Flickr album by Joann Jovinelly.

Update (Sept. 11, 2011): Here's a nicely edited video piece on opening night just posted on the LocalTheatreNY.com web site:

Update (Sept. 13): A review of opening night in Brooklyn Exposed by the one and same Joann Jovinelly.

Japan's Got (Sight Gag) Talent

2011-09-07T18:11:00.008-04:00

[post 186]

Last post's Japanese photo prank reminded me of some other funny videos from the land of kyogen and kabuki that I wanted to share with you. I thought this would be a quick post, but as I started to follow links, instead of hitting a dead end, I stumbled upon a treasure trove of Japanese visual humor. Eventually I realized that I wasn't looking at isolated performers but at a broader cultural phenomenon: contestants on Japanase television talent shows concocting elaborate sight gags. The work is quite creative and the results often hilarious.

I don't know if it necessrily originated here, but the most well known technique usually comes with the adjective "matrix" attached to it because it started as a parody of this "bullet time" effect made famous in the movie The Matrix (1999):

[Click here if you want to learn how this was done.]

Someone had the clever idea of recreating this visual effect live on stage using semi-hidden puppeteers clad in black, just like those in the traditional Japanese bunraku puppet theatre. (Comparisons with the work of Mummenscahanz are also appropriate.) The idea in bunraku is that it doesn't matter if we see the puppet handlers; after a while we're so caught up in the action that we phase them out. Here the joke is that the performers are pretending they're pulling off all these amazing moves but of course we can see how it's being done.

I'm betting most of you have probably already seen this extreme ping-pong match, since it went viral with over 15 million YouTube hits, but just in case....

As you'll see below, this brand of comedy took off in a big way. Much of it consists of parodies of special effects from films, which if you think about it isn't all that different from the circus clown's parody of a highly skilled act. But it has gone beyond that to encompass a fairly rich visual imagination. Curious as to where it all came from, I asked my born-in-Tokyo Bloomfield College colleague, Yuichiro Nishizawa, what if anything he knew about it. He knew a lot. Here's an excerpt from his response:

I think all these clips are from one talent show, called Kinchan No Kasou Taishou. The wiki in english doesn't cover the full extent of the show; here's the wiki in Japanese. The show has been on since 1975 and it's still going! The live competition is held twice per year and this is probably one of the first talent shows. Amateurs compete to win 1 million yen; the first prize, when the economy was good, had gone up to 2 million. There are 2nd and 3rd prize and there was a special prize for each category, Best Idea, Best Humor, Best Technique, etc. People from all over the country compete, the top 30–50 go on live. I have a personal connection to this Kasou Taishou. The main host for this show as well as the first host for Star Tanjo was Hagimoto Kinichi, the comedian who started the sit-com I was in; he played the father and was the one who hired me. He is a very influential figure in Japanese comedy. The English wiki on him is decent.

This sort of physical comedy has been around forever; some professional comedians even have a single expression for it: ippatsu gei. On Japanese tv, you see a lot of amateurs; if they become popular, they may become "entertainer" or as we call them, "talent." Many of the talents are from Kansai (Osaka), home of the Yoshimoto entertainment agency. Dave Spector is a funny American guy; he didn't come out of a talent show, but somehow became a celebrity in Japan. There are a lot of foreign amateurs who get into the industry.

Some more links from Yuichiro below, but first let's go to the videotape so you can see what the helleck I'm talking about here...

That ping-pong piece is already being referred to as "the classic matrix ping-pong." Here's a high-def remake. In this one, there's less of an attempt to make the puppeteers disappear into the shadows.

There's even a so-called "improved" version of this routine on YouTube performed by Canadian high school students, which you can find here. Not necessarily better, but not bad; unfortunately, the video was shot from the back of the audience.

No need to limit it to ping-pong, eh? Karate Matrix is pretty funny,

And here's a wild dinner scene featuring a quarreling couple and a nice rewind effect.

On YouTube you'll also find Matrix Olympics, Shaolin Soccer, Base Stealing, the Orangutan Conductor, the Ninja Thief, etc., but this one, which I first saw on the comedy for animators blog is my favorite, even if I'm not totally sure what it's about!

In a similar vein, the massage chair from hell.

Yuichiro tells me that what he's saying at the end translates as “Ohhhh, that felt great!"

Any physical comedian worth their salt sees a flight of stairs and wants to fall down it. If you know what I'm talking about, then this one is for you. Quite an elaborate set-up for a talent show!

Two more nice sight gags; neither is a matrix effect, but sorta-kinda related.

And for our finale, a rather suggestive Rocket Launch act using the theme song for Gatsby personal care products. In the end he says “Landed!”

Links:
• The New Wave of Japanese Comedy
• Japanftw.com
• A famous Japanese impersonator.
• Japanese beatboxing
• ChappieTV's YouTube channel

Japanese Photo Prank

2011-08-31T12:20:00.007-04:00

[post 185]

I was in Tokyo for 3½ days but spent too much of it figuring out how to get home in the middle of a hurricane. So no physical comedy report, but here's a clever sight gag I think you'll enjoy.

Clearly the guys are walking behind the van rather than hopping out, and I imagine you can rig a Polaroid-style camera to pop out a different photo, but still I'm suspicious. How, for example, did they get the camera angle for this close-up shot of the photo taken by the woman in purple? Was there a camera above the woman?? Or were the volunteer photographers actually actors? Of course it could have been legit except that they added in the close-ups of the photos just to sell the joke. Either way, I'm not complaining. Funny is funny.

Live from Thailand: Monkeys & Elephants & Me (Oh My!), or, My Search for Physical Comedy in Chiang Mai

2011-08-26T12:21:00.005-04:00

[post 184]

I'm not in Thailand for physical comedy, but I do keep my eyes open. I like to believe that clowning is universal, as natural as human error, but that doesn't mean every place you visit is a hotbed of variety theatre, much less of inspired foolishness. Here in Chiang Mai, "cultural capital of northern Thailand," physical comedy has proven to be an elusive commodity.

My first foray was to the famed Sunday Market, said to be full of amazing crafts and street performers. The crafts were in abundance, but the only buskers carving out space on its nearly impassable streets were musicians soulfully strumming and drumming on traditional Thai instruments, ultimately bumming for tourist tips; lovely, but hardly physical comedy.

Then there are the cabarets; the place is teeming with them. Surely I'd find something old or new vaudevillian there....

Nope.

It turns out that they owe their popularity to lady boy transvestite / transgender revues, not to slapstick shenanigans. (See this recent BBC News piece on the lady boys' runaway popularity at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival!) An interesting enough phenomenon, but was this the kind of variety I was looking for?

After exhaustive research sitting at a bar for over a half hour, I did find one lady boy cabaret numéro that was borderline blog-worthy: a two-faced interpretation of the song One-Man Woman. I’m guessing you’ve seen this bit before: the performer plays two roles simultaneously, swiveling 180˚ from profile to profile, a different makeup and costume on each side, now a woman, now a man. It does go with the lyrics and is certainly a good fit for a drag show, but as a visual gimmick it wears thin quickly if you don't do anything original with it. Admittedly I’m not a huge fan of lip synching, especially here: if you're going to play two characters, actually do something different with them, starting with the voice!

But there I was at the bar, concealed Flip camera in hand, cleverly sitting right next to the much overused spotlight and right where all the waiters had to cross in front of me to pick up their drink orders, the ideal spot to grab some footage. You might dismiss the results as bad cinematography, but I know better. This is merely my genius at rendering a complete 4-D environmental experience. So what if you can barely see the main performer! It’s only 17 seconds, enough to get the idea.

Okay, so that was the worst quality video ever posted to this blog!

The rest of the show was all glitter and no substance, physical comedy or otherwise. So.... no street performance, no cabaret, but as it turned out there were hearty physical comedy laughs to be found amongst Thailand’s most celebrated citizens. Yes, I’m talking about its talented elephants and monkeys. I've seen a bunch of circuses in my day, even been in a few, ridden an elephant bareback (bareneck?) and know enough not to come near a chimpanzee while wearing clown makeup. But in Thailand I still found myself saying, "I didn't know they could do that!"

The pachyderms at the Maesa Elephant Camp dance, play harmonica, kick and block a soccer ball, dunk basketballs, and beat human beings at dart throwing.

Here are a couple of elephants playing with me; to all appearances, toying with me. At first a sniff of danger, realizing those powerful trunks enveloping my puny body could flick me clear across the Burmese border. On the one hand threatening, on the other comic release from their docile behavior. They tease me, bestowing a safari hat on my head, giving it a few pats for good luck, then take it away. Feed them a bunch of bananas or a piece of sugar cane and they scarf it down. Give them a 20-baht tip and they pass it back overhead to their mahout.

And they even paint better than me! That top photo is of an elephant making “art“ before my very eyes and the image below shows the standard work churned out by these four-legged Rembrandts three times a day. (I wanted to buy one to hang on my refrigerator back home so guests would think my kids were more artsy, but they were too expensive.)

But all this brings up the question: does the elephant actually know what it’s painting? When it paints an elephant, does it see it as a self-portrait? When it throws a dart, it understands the goal, but does it even know that it's in competition with the human, much less that we find it very funny if it wins? And above all does it get the basic reversal joke? — the “inferior” animal getting the best of the human.

Groucho Marx liked to claim that his comic foil Margaret DuMont rarely understood the humor of their scenes together and would ask why the audience was laughing. Highly unlikely, given her long career as a comedienne, but of course from the audience’s perspective it does not matter whether or not elephants or Margaret Dumont think their routines are funny.

Still, I am curious. The elephants perform actions, endlessly repeated without any trace of boredom on their part. The work is easy, they get rewards, plenty of attention and positive reinforcement, but do they enjoy the event for its own sake? And if so, do they have a sense of humor about it all? The obvious answer is, no, there’s no way they understand what humor is, the irony of the situation, or even that the humans are laughing.

Many animals do, however, have a clearly documented sense of play that is not so different from what we might call a sense of humor. For example: monkeys. I do love me some monkeys. Like cats, they have a highly developed sense of play, and like cats they are natural acrobats, only ten times more so. Is it possible they have a sense of humor too? In your typical Chiang Mai monkey show — I saw two, very similar — they pose, they strut, they interact with the audience in carefully scripted routines. They outsmart humans, for example by (apparently) performing feats of memory (a numbers game) better than an audience volunteer.

_______________________

“When I play with my cat, who knows whether she is not amusing herself with me more than I with her.”
— Michel de Montaigne, French essayist (1533–1592)

_____________________________

Here's a video of me needing a monkey to escape from bondage: the joke of the monkey's superiority, with a sweet touch of trans-species bonding thrown in, complete with kisses.

But in this video, my all-too-human pride wouldn't let me go along with the joke. No monkey was going to beat me at shooting foul shots! I wisely adapted to the low net by choosing Wilt Chamberlain's underhand style, sunk the first two but, suffering from all-too-human overconfidence, rushed the last one. Still, two out of three was good enough to beat a fellow homo sapien and a monkey who can dunk but chokes at the free throw line. The crowd may have been disappointed, but a man's a man, when all is said and done.

_________________________________

Okay, okay, this post has obviously been more full of questions than answers, but this is a blog so I'm allowed to think out loud and to free associate, right?

So while I'm still chuckling about monkeys, here are some related videos which recently crossed my desk here at AFD Central. The first is a remarkable BBC piece on drunken monkeys courtesy of NYC clown Billy Schultz.

We all wish we could climb like monkeys. Well, at least I do, and it's a fact that the founders of parkour studied monkey behavior, as I discussed in this previous blog post, which just happens to be one of my favorites. But I doubt anyone can beat this guy in India, who climbs walls as well as any primate I ever saw:

And finally, speaking of wall climbing, from Brazil comes this cool Nextel commercial, courtesy of clown, artist, and All Fall Down guest blogger Karen Gersch:

I don't know much about this, but was able to track down one of the performers, Guto Vasconcelos, who was a clown with Cirque du Soleil for ten years and who writes: "This was a corporate gig for Nextel; the company's name is Ares, my friend is the director. I don't believe the the website is up yet, but you can google or youtube and for sure you will find some more clips."

_________________________________

That's it for now. Goodbye to Thailand (and India and Brazil) and my jungle-inspired ramblings. As one monkey said to the other, "We're not laughing with you, we're laughing at you."