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 YouTuberebhiggins90for the edit, which came my way by way of Riley Kellogg by way of Drew Richardson.
Today is the 73rd birthday of Tommy Smothers and, as much as I think it's important to honor the work of those who have passed away, it's a pleasure to be able to salute a fine comedian who is still very much with us. Tommy Smothers was one-half of the Smothers Brothers, partnering his younger brother Dick (born 11-20-39) on their own CBS television variety show. They are still active and in fact both can be seen in cameo roles in last year's The Informant!. The Smothers Brothers' m.o. was folk music, not physical comedy, but their act was right out of vaudeville with Dick playing straightman on string bass to a confused, emotional Tommy on acoustic guitar. You never knew what words would come from Tommy's mouth. His character was the one who blurts out what everyone else may be thinking but is afraid to say out loud.
But this is a physical comedy blog, so here's a clip of Tommy showing some pretty cool chops on the yoyo!
And here they are (their actual voices) as part of a Bart Simpson dream (he badly wants a brother) on an episode this past December on The Simpsons:
Fired from CBS? Yes, another reason to praise the Smothers Brothers is that back in the turbulent Vietnam War era, long before cable tv and the internet, when three major networks controlled everything Americans saw and heard on television, and most entertainers chose not to make waves, the Smothers Brothers continuously fought back against this wall of censorship. They engaged in weekly battles with the CBS censors, who insisted that television was entertainment, pure and simple, and that politics was bad for business. They lost most of these battles, but paved the way for the greater freedom enjoyed today by such satirists as Jon Stewart and Steven Colbert.
One of the biggest controversies was over a Harry Bealfonte song that was accompanied by footage of police violence at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. The song (video clip below) was not aired and later that season the Smothers Brothers were booted off the air for refusing to cave to the censors. This Wikipedia summary pretty much nails it:
With the focus of the show having evolved towards a more youth-oriented one, the show became both popular and controversial for those same references to youth culture and the issues that both interested and affected this particular target audience. Three specific targets of satire — racism, the President of the United States, and the Vietnam War — would wind up defining the show's content for the remainder of its run, and eventually lead to its demise.
Whereas most older audiences were tuning into shows like the western Bonanza, the younger generation — ages 15–25 — were watching the Smothers' more socially relevant humor.
The Brothers soon found themselves in regular conflicts with CBS' networkcensors. At the start of the 1968/69 season, the network ordered that the Smothers deliver their shows finished and ready to air ten days before airdate so that the censors could edit the shows as necessary. In the season premiere, CBS deleted the entire segment of Belafonte singing "Lord, Don't Stop the Carnival" against a backdrop of the havoc during the 1968 Democratic National Convention, along with two lines from a satire of their main competitor, Bonanza. As the year progressed, battles over content continued, including a David Steinberg sermon about Moses and the Burning Bush.
With some local stations making their own deletions of controversial skits or comments, the continuing problems over the show reached a boiling point after CBS showed a rerun on March 9, 1969. The network explained the decision by stating that because that week's episode did not arrive in time to be previewed, it would not be shown. In that program, Joan Baez paid tribute to her then-husband–David Harris–who was entering jail after refusing military service, while comedian Jackie Mason made a joke about children "playing doctor." When the show finally did air, two months later, the network allowed Baez to state that her husband was in prison, but edited out the reason.
Despite the conflict, the show was picked up for the 1969-70 season on March 14, seemingly ending the debate over the show's status. However, network CEO and President, William S. Paley, abruptly canceled the show on April 4, 1969. The reason given by CBS was based on the Smothers' refusal to meet the pre-air delivery dates as specified by the network in order to accommodate review by the censors before airing. This cancellation led the Brothers to file a successful breach of contract suit against the network, although the suit failed to see the Brothers or their show returned to the air.[2] Despite this cancellation, the show went on to win the Emmy Award that year for best writing. The saga of the cancellation of the show is the subject of a 2002 documentary film, Smothered.[3]
Here's a telegram from CBS staking out their right to pre-censor the show, followed by the Harry Belafonte clip that did not make it to the airwaves in the fall of 1968.
The Video That Dared Not Be Shown:
As this final note from Wikipedia shows, the Smothers Brothers did receive some vindication decades later: In 2003, the brothers were awarded the George Carlin Freedom of Expression Award from the Video Software Dealers’ Association. The award recognizes the brothers' “extraordinary comic gifts and their unfailing support of the First Amendment.” In September 2008, during the 60th Primetime Emmy Awards, Tommy Smothers, a lead writer of "The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour" was belatedly awarded a 1968 Emmy for Outstanding Writing In A Comedic Series. In 1968, Tommy Smothers had refused to let his name be on the list of writers nominated for the Emmy because he felt his name was too volatile, and thus when the writing staff won he was the only member not to receive the award.
Long before Steve Martin's King Tut, there was this hysterical sand dance performed by Jack Wilson, born in Liverpool this day in 1894, and Joe Keppel, born in Ireland a year later. Along with a succession of Bettys, they formed the music-hall comedy act of Wilson, Keppel & Betty. This birthday salute is just an excuse to showcase their work, a delicious parody of an earlier craze for all things Egyptian, sparked by the 1922 discovery of the tomb of Tutankhamun, just as Martin's was inspired by the wildly popular 1978 U.S. tour of the Treasures of Tutankhamun.
Wilson and Keppel first performed together in New York in March 1919 as a comedy acrobatic and tap dancing act in vaudeville, and continued working together until 1963. Yep, that's 44 years together. Yikes! In 1928 they were joined in the act by Betty Knox, former stage partner of Jack Benny, who retired in 1941 to go into journalism, but was followed by something like seven other Bettys, beginning with Knox's own daughter, Patsy.
They toured internationally and, according to legend, were denounced by Goebbels as "bad for the morals of Nazi Youth" after a 1936 performance at Berlin's Wintergarden because they showed too much bare leg. Mussolini, on the other hand, was said to have had no problem enjoying the act. In 1950, they even shared the bill with Frank Sinatra when he headlined the London Palladium.
Along the way, their signature piece, the sand dance, became a cult favorite. Film historian Luke McKernan (see below) commented that "I worked at the National Film and Television Archive for a number of years, and I think this one piece of film was requested by the public more times than any other."
Like Anna Pavlova before them and Steve Martin decades later, Wilson & Keppel are all profile and angles and limbs, funnier than Pavlova and more skilled than Martin — and perhaps vice-versa. Their slender frames and straight faces are perfect for the mock-seriousness of the piece.
Here it is, their trademark sand dance, to the tune of Luigini's Ballet Egyptien, arranged for them by none other than Hoagy Carmichael.
And here's another version, courtesy of British Pathé. It's part of a 1933 variety show at the Trocadero Restaurant, and unfortunately they're in front of the curtain instead of their pyramid backdrop. It includes a cute little dance up and down the stairs.
As Cleopatra, Betty provided the sultriness with her Dance of the Seven Veils and gave the guys something to play off of. Here's my favorite bit from Cleopatra's Nightmare.
Last and perhaps least, one more cute novelty.
You can view a few more incidental clips on YouTube, and can read Luke McKernan's excellent history of the act (pdf download) by clicking here.
Today we celebrate the birth and career of Ray Bolger (January 10, 1904 – January 15, 1987), vaudevillian and song & dance man best known for his portrayal of the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz (1939).
Bolger was out and out funny, his work full of clown moments and highly skilled physical comedy. You can read more about him on Wikipedia and IMDB, and see more clips on YouTube, but here are three to get you started.
Here's a clip of Bolger in Stage Door Canteen (1943), a World War II morale booster film that showcases his myriad talents.
And here's a cool dance from The Wizard of Oz that didn't survive the final cut — notice that you can still see the wires used to fly him. If memory serves, the first time this clip surfaced was when it was used as part of the compilation film, That's Entertainment (1974).
One more Bolger dance, which takes wings once he goes solo at the 1:10 mark.
I'm sure you've all seen the Marx Brothers movies several times over — and if not, what are you waiting for?? — but all the more reason to celebrate today being the birthday of Harpo (November 23, 1888 – September 28, 1964), the Marx Brothers' most physical performer and purest clown.
1. First an overview, the intro to Harpo on Marx Brothers in a Nutshell:
2. Harpo (without his brothers) as the "village Peter Pan" in the 1925 silent movie, Too Many Kisses, in which he speaks his only line ever in a film. Of course you have to read it on a title card because it's a silent film!
3. Harpo with his brothers in the opening scene from their 1924 Broadway musical revue, I'll Say She Is, in rhyming couplets no less, recreated for film in 1931. Harpo does not enter until the 2:26 point.
4. At poolside with all three brothers:
5. A few moments of Harpo performing in Moscow during his triumphant six-week goodwill ambassador tour to the Soviet Union in 1933.
6. A rare Marx Brothers stunt in The Big Store (1941), though not a very convincing one. I'm assuming the first shot is done by stunt doubles, with the Harpo character being wired. The second shot, where we don't even see the unicycle wheel, could easily have been done on a stationary bicycle traveling on a dolly.
7. Harpo et.al. in a variety of cartoons. Did that last bit inspire The Who?
8. Next is a brief appearance by Harpo in Stage Door Canteen, a 1943 star-studded World War II morale booster.
9. This chasing after young women, honking away on his horn, became a Harpo trademark, but ironically he was the only Marx brother to stay married to the same woman till death did them part. Here's a touch of family life.
10. You've probably seen Harpo and Lucille Ball reprise the broken mirror routine for television, but maybe you missed the the footage that comes before and after. Harpo chasing Lucy and then Ethel seems pretty risqué for 1955 television!
11. Harpo (and Chico) make commercials.
12. Last clip, from a failed sitcom pilot, Deputy Seraph. Kind of depressing to hear some director telling them how to act. There's more footage from this on YouTube.
Cool Links
• Check out the Harpo Marx Tribute Site and sign their petitions to preserve the original home of the Marx Brothers on East 93rd St. in Manhattan, and to co-name that street Marx Brothers Place. They have some clips of Harpo speaking, such as this recording, apparently from tapes made for the writing of his memoirs.
• And click here for a good Marx Brothers site.
Last and definitely least... Irrelevant-Two-Degrees-of-Separation Department
Harpo worked with Kitty Carlisle in A Night at the Opera, and she was a panelist 41 years later when I appeared on To Tell the Truth promoting my book Clowns. (She said my smile was a dead giveaway that I was the clown.)
"A comedian is not a man who says funny things. A comedian is one who says things funny." —Ed Wynn
Ed Wynn (November 9, 1886 – June 19, 1966), known to his public as “the perfect fool,” was an American vaudevillian who grew up working with W.C. Fields. He gained nationwide fame as a comedian first on radio and then on television and, in his later years, as a serious actor in television and film dramas. He was apparently the first performer to host a tv variety show from Hollywood, and on his show introduced Buster Keaton to television audiences for the first time. Here's a clip of that intro:
[Yeah, it cuts off there, but apparently Keaton did this more than once on television, because you can see him doing it on something called The Ken Murray Show in 1952 right here. It's the molasses scene from the 1917 Arbuckle movie, The Butcher Boy.]
Wynn was not a physical comedian, but his wacky props (e.g., a piano-bicycle) and giddy personality lent themselves to broad comedy with a touch of the surreal, as in this well known scene from Mary Poppins.
Visual effects fans might be interested to know that Mary Poppins was one of the first large-scale uses of chroma key technology, except they used a yellow screen rather than green or blue!
And finally, Wynn's greatest claim to fame (heh-heh) would have to be his appearing alongside Myrna Loy, Tab Hunter, and yours truly in the 1959 television remake of "Meet Me in St. Louis."
In honor of the birthday of Fannie Brice (October 29, 1891 – May 29, 1951), the inspiration for the Barbara Streisand musicals Funny Girl and Funny Lady, here's proof that Brice was indeed quite funny. This is A Sweepstakes Ticket, a skit from the movie revue, The Ziegfield Follies (1946). There's some great clowning and physical comedy in here by Brice, but also by Hume Cronyn in a rare broad comedy role. William Frawley, an old-time vaudevillian but best known as landlord Fred Mertz on I Love Lucy, is also the landlord here.
I just ran across this photo of Pablo Picasso (October 25, 1881 – April 8, 1973) made up as a clown and, since it's his 128th birthday this month, I thought I'd include it with some of his circus paintings. The photo accompanied an article titled "Artists and Clowns" by Albert Faurot from the Third Quarter, 1963 edition of Silliman Journal. (No pun intended; that's a university in the Philippines!) Note that at the time of writing Picasso still had ten years to live.
Though I might argue with some of its interpretations, the article's interesting enough, so I've excerpted the section about Picasso and the circus for you: Circus clowns became a favorite subject for the French school of writers, painters and musicians gathered in Paris, early in the twentieth century. Apollinaire, Pablo Picasso, and Max Jacob used to make weekly visits together to the circus. Buffoonery and clowning became a form of expression for many artists, both in their lives and in their art…
Picasso... is an inveterate tease, mimic and entertainer; so much so that one is never quite sure which of his paintings were done with tongue in cheek. The brief art movement which called itself Dada was an acting out in art of the clown spirit, featuring the incongruous, the irrational, the banal.
The circus became and remained a dominant theme in French art for many years. Yet it is a curious fact that few artists succeeded in recording the actual glory of the clown's profession, his laughter-making fun. Exceptions are the gay, brilliant paintings of Toulouse-Lautrec, and occasional works by Seurat, Signac, Degas, Dufy and Mattise. Popular as the circus was with artists, it is the clown sans masque who is the subject of their greatest art.
Around the circus figures which he saw each week at the Cirque Medrano, Pablo Picasso wove a private life of his own imagining. In a series of paintings in the soft blue and rose colors of his early periods, he showed circus families in varied groupings: a mother combing her hair, while a father in clown suit looks on, holding a tiny child; a seated acrobat watching his little girl spin a ball with her feet. The figures are invariably sober, often sad, and succeed vividly in contrasting professional gaiety with private gravity. On the one hand are the symbolic costumes, bright and varied even when mellowed to the prevailing rose or blue. On the other hand are the painfully attenuated figures, suggesting near starvation, the stark, immobile, emotionless faces, without masks or make-up.
One of these paintings, called Saltimbanques, inspired the German poet, Rainer Maria Rilke, to compose his famous fifth Duino Elegy. The picture shows a family of acrobats standing rather awkwardly about in a moment of repose that is heavy with fatigue and futility. Rilke asks, "But tell me, who are they, these acrobats, even a little more fleeting than we ourselves?" The grim harshness and futility of their lives is his theme. He compares their rigid training to mankind’s experiences in life, which make up "the full emptiness of life, and lead to the empty fulfillment of death." He longs for a place where these may find rest from their climbing and leaping, their towers and ladders, their empty grins, and knows that there is none.
Circus figures soon disappeared from Picasso's paintings, but Commedia dell' Arte clowns continue to appear down to the present time. One of the earliest pictures is called "Harlequin's Death Bed." Here it is the beauty of the scene, rather than the tragedy, which informs the dainty, elegant picture. The dying clown lies calmly and gracefully in his lozenged tights, hnds folded in prayer, while wife and child look on. A soft radiance, almost like a halo, surrounds the three figures.
Harlequin plays a peculiar role in the Picasso oeuvre. He recurs frequently throughout the almost fifty years of painting, and always he is treated in a conventional, representational manner, no matter how wildly distorted the other paintings of the period may be. All the harlequins have a dignified composure quite out of keeping with the traditional character of the original naughty, scampering clown. They are among the most beautiful paintings, restrained yet glowing in color, with firm, elegant line. Many of them are actual portraits of Picasso's friends or his children. It is said that he keeps a harlequin suit on hand and dresses his friends up in it for sittings. The sadness of the early clowns is gone, and the sly humor of the cubist paintings and the sculpture are entirely absent. It is as though Picasso, the incorrigible comic, here wished to show the world that, though his appearance was clownish, he was at heart a courtly, kindly gentleman.
...that you can click on any blog image to see it full size?
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An Introduction...
[So this is what I wrote six years ago; more or less true!]
Ring around a rosie, a pocket full of posies Ashes, Ashes, we all fall down
Welcome to the All Fall Down blog, an exploration of all aspects of physical comedy, from the historical to the latest work in the field, from the one-man show to the digital composite, from the conceptual to the nuts & bolts how-to. Be prepared for a broad definition of physical comedy (mine!) and a wide variety of approaches. Physical comedy is a visual art form, so there’ll be tons of pictures and videos, but also some substantial writing and research, including scripts and probably even some books.
This blog is a result of me wanting to follow through on lots of unfinished research from the past 25 years. It’s made possible by a full-year sabbatical leave from Bloomfield College that will take me through August 2010. It’s also made more practical by the ease of Web 2.0 tools for managing and distributing content. I had envisioned a web site similar to this blog more than a decade ago, but never got too far with it because it was simply a lot more work. Now, no more excuses!
Just as this blog will be sharing lots of goodies with you free of charge, I hope you will share your knowledge and ideas with me. Feel free to comment on any of it, or to write me directly with your suggestions. Admittedly I don’t see this as a free-for-all forum on the subject of physical comedy. It’s my blog, I’m the filter, and it won’t be all things to all people. That being said, I hope it will bring together insights, information, and people, and encourage others to make their own singular contributions to the field.
I hope to be adding substantial and varied material to the blog on a regular basis, so check back often and be sure to check out previous posts. And finally, a thanks to all of you, past present, and future whose work contributes to our knowledge — and our fun. We are truly standing on the shoulders of giants.
— John Towsen New York CIty May, 2009
My Physical Comedy Qualifications
So if you don’t blink, you can see me doing a pratfall on the original 1957 CBS production of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella(starring Julie Andrews, directed by Ralph Nelson, stage managed by Joseph Papp).
If that doesn't say it all, then click here for the full bio.
My Favorite Posts Okay, there are literally thousands of physical comedy blogs out there, but only one physical comedy blogopedia. Why list my favorite posts? Because I want to draw attention to my best research and writing, to posts that make the strongest connections between old and new, between theory and practice, between ha-ha funny and broader global issues. If I die tomorrow, which is impossible because it's already the day after tomorrow in Australia, these are the ones I would like read aloud at my funeral, with high-rez projection of all videos. (Is it bad luck to write that?) Also, please mention that I never voted for a Republican. —jt
Here are some useful and fun blogs and web sites that touch on the whole field of physical comedy, rather than just sites by performers about themselves (not that there's anything wrong with that). Click away!
For the latest posts from these blogs, see below. (Blogs only; not web sites.) These are automatically sequenced by Google in order of most current posts. The blog at the top of the list is the blog with the most recent post. Since the whole idea is to keep you (and me) up to date on current posts in the field, blogs that have not been posting regularly have been dropped from the list; if you've been dropped but are now posting regularly, just let me know.
Los otros hombres que ríen
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En nuestro camino para conocer a Gwynplaine hemos encontrado algunas otras
versiones de la célebre novela de Víctor Hugo. La primera película
inspirada p...
Caroline Loyo
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==Equestrienne==
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R.I.P Dougie Ashton
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ICHOF inductee Dougie Ashton passed away on August 25th at the age of 96.
Please enjoy this rare audio interview with him from 1973 when he was
touring wit...
The Apache Dance
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I had heard of the “Apache dance”, but didn’t know much about it, until I
ran across this youtube video: It’s a humorous setting for a dance that
isn’t mea...
Canal Payasas
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Con todas las grandes payasas que conozco y admiro, había tardado mucho en
realizar esta lista. Seguramente porque a muchas las tengo incluidas en
otros....
Here's a list of complete books available for free as pdf documents right here on this here blogopedia, arranged in chronological order; dates are publication in the original language. Clickhere for a Tech Note on these books. Click on the book title to go to that post. More books coming!
Posts
