Ben Robinson's decades of writing credits include the book Magic & the Silent Clownsand a recent article for this blogopedia,Keaton the Conjuror, where you can also read more about his long and fascinating career in magic.
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Just to get into this topic, I would like to acknowledge three brothers who influenced my formative years: Felipe, Matty and Jesús Alou. They were from the Dominican Republic and they all sailed in a small craft about 110 miles in tough winds and choppy seas to North America, where they were given immunity from prosecution for “un-authorized” fleeing of their native country. They came to the U.S. and they all played professional major league baseball at the same time. In fact, Felipe managed in the majors until 2006 and his son Moisés regularly ripped the cover off the ball in an impressive career for six different teams.
Of the three, I think Matty and Jesús were the sluggers. And while no slight athlete himself, Felipe played for a time with the NY Yankees, where I first took notice of these three amazing brothers, one of whom recently departed for that great playing field in the sky.
I think we human animals like to know that family can succeed. I believe the Alou family must have been pretty proud to have three boys all making doubles and triples, catching fly balls, listening to cheering fans…and even…hitting a game-winning home run in their home stadium! They all played baseball before the so-called “steroid era.” The salaries in the Alou shining years was not the money Derek Jeter leaves as a tip.
Two generations: Moisés & Felipe Alou
Nah, the Alou brothers no doubt played baseball for one thing and one thing only — the game itself. This is dedication we admire. We notch it up in the record books and we continue to write about it.
There are other teams relatives played for too. This story really begins in a wagon show traveling the German countryside from Dornum to Essen to Brazl and then on to the periphery of Poland. The wagon master is a magician. I like to think he resembles the wagon show led by the Max Von Sydow character in Ingmar Bergman’s masterpiece The Magician.
Fannie and Levi Schoenberg on
their 50th wedding anniversary.
His name is Louis, or Levi, or Ludwig, or whatever he felt like calling himself that day…but the last name was always Schoenberg. Being a magician in the 1800s in Germany wasn’t so bad if you knew of another fella also doing the same thing at this time named Alexander Herrmann and his brother Carl. By the way, the Herrmann brothers were just two of eleven children and their father was also a magician, amateur though he was. But, we digress.
Now, Levi Schoenberg’s daughter came to the US and later married a tailor named Sam Marx. They had six sons, one dying in infancy named Manfred. The second eldest son of Minnie Schoenberg and Sam Marx was named Adolph. He later formally changed his first name to Arthur. His brothers called him “ah-dee” but somehow Arthur sounded more American, maybe with a bit of pluck in it at that? (Some contend, perhaps rightly, that “Adolph” became “Ahdie” that naturally morphed into “Arty” and then became formalized as “Arthur.”)
Now, this name-changing family, a metamorphic spirit at least, had by then traveled from Dornum, Germany in 1838 to the Yorkville streets of Manhattan c.1899. The century is about to change and the older magician smokes his cigar with pride and says from the stoop of East 93rd Street, “Ach, it is goot tube E in Ah-meer—ick-a. Yah! Ha!”
He conjured for his grandson. Levi Schoenberg, somewhere in his 90’s was only too happy to school his 12-year-old grandson Arthur in sleight of hand…the magician’s tradecraft.
Flash forward.
1914: Some unremarkable vaudeville house is sending over eleven acts a day on a crusty stage, in a small town, where the locals are less than feeling sympathy for the actors and energetic comedians. Arthur Marx is backstage, maybe downstairs in a basement lit by an undependable bulb, playing five-card stud poker. Around the table are his professional gambler brother and his other brother, filling the table area with cigar smoke.
“And here’s a card for you…Harp-o.”
“And here’s one for you, Leo the chicken chaser, you’re Chick-o.”
“Ay you’re easy, c'mon Grouch-o, take a card!”
Speaking was a monologist named Art Fisher. Knocko the Monk was a popular comic strip of the day and Fisher was batting out cards like baseballs to cartoon players. He was tagging Arthur, Leonard, and Julius Marx with the names that would thunder across movie screens for over a billion people beginning in 1929, even though they had been the toast of Broadway for over five years already. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, meet The Marx Brothers!
In 2014, it will be a hundred years on the nose that this happened, and that thunderous noise you heard back in the Twenties when the Marx boys were cutting up stages is about to happen again…really.
If you search on that new-fangled typewriter called a computer, you will see the CGH Society. They are the ones promoting this event of the Marx Brothers getting their world-famous names. The celebration will be called a “Global Day of Laughter.” People yelling out their windows that they are “sick and tired of it and they are not going to take it anymore” will be replaced by bulbous, knockdown glee…what would happen if the planet laughed?
Now the head of this whole shebang is none other than Bill Marx, Harpo’s eldest son. To get the resumé out of the way, let’s just agree he’s a world-class musician who has done every type of music, from concert hall broadcast shows of his solo performance on piano to cult film scores like Scream, Blacula, Scream! and Count Yorga, Vampire.
Harpo & Bill Marx
Recently, I had the pleasure of Bill’s counsel during the blackest of times a writer can face — otherwise known as one’s editor. The cuts were deep, and I was bleeding red ink. Bill sent his reply. It consisted of the link you are about to watch and then we’ll talk about it, okay? Really, stick with it. Don't move. Don't answer the phone or surf the web, just spend 4:33 with it. It will make you feel something.
Now, obviously we need to establish who wrote this masterpiece, and it is none other than the legendary avant-garde composer, John Cage.
John Cage
Given the tenor of the work, it might be thought a bad gag to pull this off, but actually, there is considerable skill involved in silence. And, who better to perform this masterpiece other than a man who is a Juilliard-trained master musician who just also happens to be the son of a vaudevillian who learned to entertain the world with only silence — albeit with a few horns honking, and uproarious laughter from the audience.
Harpo Marx was not a silent performer, but he was the silent Marx Brother.
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"Harpo was much more than silent performance. It is what he did with his silence that was his performance."
— Ben Robinson
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I think as the Internet spins its international cocoon around all of us with buzzing 24-7 images and sleepless information, we need to embrace silence and study it.
Just as I said seriously the day after 9/11: Send in the clowns. The jester told the king the awful truth in King Lear; likewise Feste in Twelfth Night — the message is clear: we ought to be listening to our fools.
I believe that which makes us laugh is that which is truthful to some. What can be more truthful than silence? Physical comedy sounds loud. But, physical comedy can also be deft, fleeting and stealthy, like the ninja. Understanding this will give one a fine appreciation of nuance and focus, unlike the broader bits that, as they used to write, “left ya chewin’.” Meaning, you were worked up by what you saw. Silence does something different. We can analyze silence in earnest, but we can’t hold it in our hand.
[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?
Ben Robinsonis 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.
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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!
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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.
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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).
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Visit Ben's web site here, where you can also purchase his book directly via PayPal.
THE MISHAPS OF MUSTY SUFFER Starring Harry Watson Jr. Produced for video by Ben Model Films preserved by the Library of Congress Released April 22, 2014 by Undercrank Productions Ben Model & Steve Massa, curators Piano scores written and played by Ben Model Companion booklet by Steve Massa Originally produced by George Kleine, March 1916 – June 1917 Eight short films from the twenty-four surviving films in the Library of Congress collection 117 min.
Reviewed by Ben Robinson
“You know man, she’s grotty, as in gro-tesque.” —George Harrison, from A HARD DAY’S NIGHT, 1964.
Full disclosure: I was one of the Kickstarter backers of this project. That means nothing more than I contributed the minimum to help launch this DVD. I had only seen one film in a private showing, and then followed the rollout of the proposed Kickstarter campaign. Amazingly, the minimum was quickly reached, and $1,000 more was contributed that made possible the additional well-produced printed booklet by Steve Massa that accompanies the DVD and the future YouYube-only release of additional films that did not fit on the DVD. It’s a most welcome addition because anyone who loves silent film comedy, clowns, circus, vaudeville, performance art, avant-garde film or surrealism will inhale this DVD and booklet.
There are mostly simple plots (with riveting action and comedy):
A man applies for job as a messenger; a man in Automat feeds the machines with food to be dispensed; the Outside Inn, a hotel where there is a “thin room” for one of the stock players of this company who is all but the skinny man from the circus. There is a cabinet just the width of his cane. His hat is pinched as if someone sat on it. He seems so thin a single bed is triple the size he needs. A man dreams of love. As a result, six maidens appear in striking lingerie—fun and mishaps ensue.
Musty happens along at the exact moment another man becomes perturbed with his bellhop, played by a boy. The man picks up the boy and throws him out of a door. At that exact moment, Musty catches the boy, looks him up and down, and then discards him too with gritty abandon as well.
In the world of Musty Suffer, anything can and does happen, and it’s not always pretty—to the cognoscenti, that is the beauty of these films: they are not pretty. An oversize rolling pin is saturated with powder. When Musty hits the thief in the Automat with this rolling pin, a cloud of powder arises when the pilferer is bonked. It’s broad, fast…grotesque, but also…clean. An auto accident is so dense with triple whirling acrobatics it is no wonder these films were subtitled “Another whirl.”
UNSEEN SINCE 1916
These films have not been seen since they appeared in 1916–1917, nearly one hundred years ago. Hence, this is not only a “find,” it is the painstakingly exact work of several film historians, lab technicians and the Library of Congress, which owns these films and generously allowed Messieurs Model and Massa to penetrate their massive archives and bring out these jewels for the world to see once more. See Musty lay horizontal in space as he is picked up by a human size pair of ice tongs. He is carted about as if he were a wastebasket.
Jewels they are! If you love a clown who carries a bundle of material that seems too wide for the doorway he seeks to pass through, and therefore engages a saw and cuts wide slots for his cargo (as opposed to just inverting the material, as in the so-called normal world), then you’ll dig this. The dance with the mannequin with the magical surprise ending is worth the price of admission.
The DVD of this whizz bang series brings us Harry Watson Jr., star of the Ziegfeld Follies playing the irrepressible MUSTY SUFFER, whose face contorts, squashes, and explodes much in the same way we have come to appreciate from Stan Laurel or Harpo Marx’s rubber faces. Musty Suffer definitely comes under the rubric of what 19th-century clowns were sometimes called: Grotesques. He is joined by his vaudeville and circus partner George Bickel who plays a character named Willie Work. There are also characters Dippy Mary and Inna Hurry. (Historical note: Dippy Mary is played by Alma Hanlon, daughter of George Hanlon of the famous knockabout stage extravaganzas of the Hanlon Brothers.)
It would seem impossible to separate this clown from his face, one-armed athletics, or amazing feats of metamorphosis, such as his filmic magical changes of clothing, and then one continuous shot of Mr. Watson, as Musty, deftly engaging us with a genuine “quick-change” act done in almost real time (save for snip edits). His dream sequence where he has dreamt of being hit in the head with an axe is frightening, deft and clever.
The opening shot gives us Musty drinking the drippings of a tail pipe in a tin cup. When he placed the tin cup beneath the parked car, I wondered silently, “What’s he’s going to do with that?” When he drank what the cup caught, I nearly fell out of my seat. Clearly the authors and curators of this DVD chose to introduce Musty to us with a sock right in the kisser of comedy. His other trademark —opposite his rough physicality—is his spritely magic. In one scene he changes clothing quickly and amazingly by having a barrel pass over him once.
Musty sometimes breaks into a small dance. In this tiny dance, where the legs cross and the arms flail with abandon, he only moves a mere two inches with all of the movement. It takes but a few seconds and he doesn’t really go anywhere. Yet the dance is expressive and funny. His little dance is currently seen in the repertoire of Bello Nock on B’way and in the huge avant-garde theatre extravaganza of RAOUL by James Thierree (as seen at The Brooklyn Academy of Music, NY).
HARRY WATSON JR. & MUSTY SUFFER
Harry Watson Jr. was a major star in American vaudeville beginning in the early 1900s. He and his partner George Bickel led the laughs in the Ziegfeld Follies season after season. It was rough work by performers doing as many as fourteen shows a week of very precise physical comedy, because in their act one could get hit in the face easily during their laugh-filled boxing act, which is seen in the Extras of this retrospective.
Musty Suffer is a broad character. In press, he is referred to as a “clown.” Given the broad world of the clown (“An orangutan who can do the impossible” in one definition), the ensuing “clown logic” or flat-out chaos is the definition of “rough and tumble.” This is very rough slapstick, with a nod to 19th- century French cinema, where plates walk up walls like a row of ants seeking their nest. Stop-motion action is highly complemented by Musty chasing a car to hop a free ride, only to be violently dumped (and feeling still not a care in the world).
THE DVD EXTRAS
There are portraits of Harry Watson Jr. in his prime with Ziegfeld Follies, with George Bickel, and it ends with loving, color snapshots of Mr. Watson in retirement in Canada, 1960, five years before his death. He looks happy and rubber-faced as ever.
The Chicago Daily of January 1916 notes that Chaplin might have a rival in Musty Suffer. George Kleine produced a short “Capturing Chicago.” The film shows Musty winning big crowds with an outdoor serenade by him on a trombone as he is paraded through the streets in an open-air moving car. This turns out to have been during a major film exhibitor’s convention held in Chicago at the time. Clowning can be very $eriou$ business. This was not advertising folly.
Courtesy of the good folks at The Library of Congress and the Billy Rose Theater Collection at the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts (New York), we are provided a time capsule that roars forth with hard-clad evidence that while Chaplin was prodded and poked at by the press of these clowns, and businessmen, Chaplin was not to be rivaled in 1916. Even the skills of this team could not knock Chaplin off his box office pedestal. The Musty Suffer films were originally produced as a 5-reel movie that portrayed a “clown Job.” But George Kleine decided to cut them down and present them weekly as a “another whirl” with Musty.
That is fact and history. It is also now part of our collective history that those who took a shot at beating Chaplin were some mighty fine contenders. It was a skewed thought, but Harry Watson’s acrobatics, executed standing on one arm while the rest of his iron body laid on the floor made me think of Sylvester Stallone doing his one armed push ups as Rocky. It’s a valid comparison given the competitive business of film comedy in 1916.
Musty Suffer’s 30 short films were released once a week from early 1916 to the autumn of 1917. Demand was high. Crowds loved ‘em. They were shot in the Bronx, New York, in one of the boroughs of the City of New York, north of upper Manhattan (Harlem). Fortunately, the Library of Congress has preserved 24 of the Musty Suffer films, the best of which are represented on the DVD.
In 2014, humans are at the point of “saving” films, not necessarily making them look all shiny, new and clear as the Chaplin Archive (Bolonga, Italy) has so beautifully done with such a film as Chaplin’s PAYDAY (1923).
Buy on Amazon right here. And if you like it, give it a review and a whole bunch of stars!
Most practitioners and aficionados of physical comedy, myself included, have a strong preference for either Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin. So I asked dozens of people in the field to share their perspective in a paragraph or two. The results were fascinating and insightful. Enjoy!
Laura Fernandez
Being asked to choose between Chaplin and Keaton is like being asked if we love Mommy or Daddy more. I love Chaplin for his view of the world, his ability to make the political funny, of his stick-it-to-the-man schemes and for his enviable, heart-wrenching pantomime. The Gold Rush had everything from the roll dance, to eating his shoe, to the hungry-chicken routine. Genius.
Keaton is the master of taking the small incident to its absolute conclusion. I revere him for sacrificing his well-being for my entertainment. His use of neutral has taught me so much about how a clown can see the world and reflect it without commenting on it. Authentic.
No, please don't make me choose.
Not possible. Laura Fernandez is a mime, clown and actress who works in theater and on the street, as well in hospitals, senior homes and hospices, originally in NewYork and since 1993 in Germany. She founded Die Clown Doktoren, the first established group in Germany to visit children's hospitals, and is currently Artistic Director for Humor Hilft Heilen.
Bernie Collins
Bernie (left) with Philippe Martz
I have often been in the situation where I showed people Keaton and Chaplin films for their very first time. Starting with my son and all the neighborhood kids, through years of teaching the history of clown here in Paris at the Samovar school, and throughout the world while on tour and giving workshops at festivals. Everywhere, hands down, Keaton gets the biggest laughs. On that criteria alone, I’d say Keaton is the better clown. I could go on for hours arguing both sides, but it also comes down to the feeling that Chaplin is “self-contained” and difficult to identify with, whereas Buster, you’d take home with you. I admire Chaplin, I love Keaton. Buster lives on in the films of Jackie Chan. No one is doing Chaplin anymore, not since Mickey Mouse and Gene Kelly passed away. Bernie Collins is the “B” (for better looking) half of the French-American clown duo BP ZOOM along with ”P” Philippe Martz.
Judy Finelli
Judy juggling at 2
I've always appreciated that Keaton wasn't sentimental. I appreciated that when I was younger because I disliked Chaplin's sentimentality. But as they say —that was then and this is now. I don't mind Chaplin's sentimentality as much now that I'm older. I saw The Kid recently and I loved Jackie Coogan and thought Charlie was generous as a performer and the end result is that the movie is very sweet in a good way except for the odd "heaven" dream. I like Chaplin's nonsense song in Modern Times I think it was. I like that Keaton never cracked but I didn't think he was as effective as the alcoholic doing talkies. Judy was an early contributor to the New Circus Movement. A former Artistic Director of the Pickle Family Circus, she currently coaches circus skills at Circus Bella, the SF Clown Conservatory, and Prescott Circus Theater, and is the founder of Notoriety Variety.
Deanna Fleysher
Well, it's always a treat to get to choose between a drunk and a womanizer (or in this case, really, a teenage-izer). But for all of Chaplin's disturbing flaws, I like him WAY better. I recognize the technical genius of Keaton the same way I recognize the beauty of a trained physical performer, but I don't personally laugh. Chaplin's performances have so much vulnerability and heart, and I still find him funny. Despite the whole kinda-pedophile thing. But that is a thing. Deanna Fleysher teaches and performs internationally with the Naked Comedy Lab and Butt Kapinski, respectively.
Kenny Raskin
I've always been more of a Keaton fan. I was actually lucky enough to wear one of his outfits a decade ago. That's another story… I have a lot of respect for Chaplin's talent and his versatility. I just always believed Keaton more. He was always about the dilemma, and I find that closer to my interests as a clown. To watch these two masters in their duet in Limelight really says it all. Chaplin's approach seems to be more outwardly focused, Keaton's more inward. Thank God they both existed! Kenny Raskin has been toiling as a clown for over 40 years — Cirque du Soleil, Broadway, film, variété, and hospitals. Not a bad life!
Karen Gersch
Visually, Chaplin's character is an endearing soul; the draped and shabby outfit, the bowlegged stagger of a walk. Eyes darker and moodier than a Kardashian. When he laughs, those little pearl teeth make him the more childlike. But he has all the charm of a frenetic terrier. At times, watching him run circles around antagonists wears me out. I think I lean more towards Keaton's stoicism. He was an early master minimalist —of movement and expression. His face was haunting; one felt the weight of the world in his gaze. And things seemed to naturally conspire against him, which made him more endearing, a victim of the disasters that befell him. (Whereas Chaplin often —intentionally or naively— caused the grief and arduous situations he found himself in). Karen Gersch has performed and taught in circus and stage for 50 years. Keaton & Chaplin appear in many of her paintings. http://acrobrats.orghttp://www.artbykeg.info/
Allan Turner
Chaplin wants us to dream about who we can be. Keaton shows us how to cope with who we are. Allan Turner is a Canadian writer, actor, and clown. For 18 years he’s performed as the zombie clown Jean-Paul Mullet. New YouTube channel launching this summer! www.AllanTurner.net www.meMullet.com
Glen Heroy
There was a small art house cinema in my upstate hometown. As a youngling, I spent countless hours there in the dark watching Chaplin films feeling amazed and inspired. While all my other comic influences (Lucille Ball, Art Carney, Carol Burnett) had the ability to make me laugh, Chaplin had the ability to make me both laugh and cry. That’s the dragon I’ve been chasing as a performer ever since. The only Keaton film I’ve ever seen was Film by Samuel Beckett. Again at the art house cinema. I was very young and it was very weird. Before that Keaton was that man on Candid Camera. Don’t get me wrong, because I’m a professional performer I’ve read 3 Biographies about Keaton, and have watched more than a few documentaries about him all in the name of research. Just never gravitated to actually sit through any of his films. When I told Will Shaw this fact he said, “Part of me wants to slap you, but I’m actually envious of the incredible joy you are about to experience when you finally do watch his films for the first time.” Glen Heroy was featured in the PBS Documentary "Circus" and is a veteran of the Big Apple Circus.
Karen Hoyer
I loved Charlie Chaplin movies and thought he was amazing —until I saw Buster Keaton movies. Chaplin seemed simpering and smarmy compared to Keaton's deadpan aplomb. And after I read their biographies, I definitely landed in the Keaton camp. But I have great admiration for both, especially after watching the PBS programs TheUnknown Chaplin and Buster Keaton: A Hard Act to Follow. Amazing to watch the gag development. Karen Hoyer performs and teaches mime, clown, mask, and puppetry. She is based in Chicago, where she co-founded Partners in Mime, Inc. and currently works as Dr. Dot, Chief Bonehead for Healthy Humor at La Rabida Hospital.
Dominique Jando
Between Chaplin and Keaton, my preference goes to Buster Keaton for several reasons. First of all, he is an “honest” clown: he never uses pathos if it doesn’t lead to a gag. He doesn’t try to be poetic, or to create easy, superficial emotion (schmaltz); yet he manages to be poetic and to create true emotion through his talent as an actor, but without ever trying to force it upon us, and without ever trying to make a point of it. (For all his comedic talents, Chaplin is the king of schmaltz.) Then Keaton is a prodigious and meticulous gag builder, able to make them on a minute or a gigantic scale, as the situation demands it. Finally, his character is not a one-situation or one-definition character: he can be either the scion of a rich family or a washout, he can end up a winner or a loser, it doesn’t really matter —so long as there is room for a final gag. Yet whoever he appears to be, he is always himself, his own and single clown persona. He is the ultimate clown. Dominique collaborated with Alexis Gruss in the creation of France’s first professional circus school, and of Le Cirque à l’Ancienne. For nineteen years he served as Associate Artistic Director of the Big Apple Circus. His numerous highly-regarded books include "Histoire Mondiale du Cirque" and "Clowns et Farceurs."
Hilary Chaplain
I usually go to Chaplin first, and then Keaton surprises me again with his beautiful simplicity. Laugh out loud: The Gold Rush. If I had to pick a favorite, it would have to be Chaplin —it’s all in the name (only he spells it wrong). Hilary tours with her solo show “A Life In Her Day” and her short comic numbers. She thinks she knows a thing or two about physical comedy and teaches in NYC and around the world.
Aitor Basauri
In my opinion, the two most influential comedians of the 20th century. Trying to identify what we owe to each of them is a huge task. I believe there are millions of things from each one of them that has an effect on my everyday work. Having said that, I identified more with Keaton. I find him funnier, more to the point, and with more interest for the laughter.
While I say that, there come to mind amazingly funny moments from Chaplin's early films and I doubt my previous comment. His body of work is so vast that he covered everything that there is in comedy and clown. I read both of their biographies and the words of Chaplin I find very inspiring and the life of Keaton speaks to me in loud voice. I still lean towards Keaton, but I can't stop admiring Chaplin. Aitor is the Joint Artistic Director of Spymonkey, and teaches master classes in Brighton, London, NY, and beyond, and at the École Phillipe Gaulier. He has performed in numerous Spymonkey productions as well as with Circus Knie and Cirque du Soleil.
Dan Kamin
Having to choose between Buster and Charlie would be like choosing between my hands. I love both of them. That said, I have a particularly strong emotional attachment to Charlie. I was in college when I saw my first Chaplin film, The Gold Rush, and it absolutely bowled me over. I thought it was the funniest film I’d ever seen, and the most moving. I loved the way Charlie shyly courted the dance hall girl, and how he made the bread rolls dance on the tabletop for her. I was amazed by the way he could turn into a giant chicken, or a man frozen stiff in the snow. I admired how he maintained his dignity under the most humiliating circumstances, and his comical and wildly inventive problem-solving strategies. I liked the way he held himself, and the way he moved. I wanted to be as cool as he was.
In all his films, The Tramp lives in a hostile world that threatens and excludes him. He demonstrates, again and again, that we can do more than just survive that world. If we’re imaginative and nimble enough, we can find delight, magical surprises, and even love there.
What do forks and bread rolls have to do with courtship?
Everything, it turns out.
But I love Keaton just as much. They’re two sides of a coin of incalculable value. Like Chaplin, Keaton successfully integrated his physical skill with a profound cinematic vision, in his case a vision of man buffeted by a world of immense, powerful and often indifferent forces. In the 1960s, when his great films became available for the first time in decades, my generation was blown away by how relevant they seemed, given the horror and absurdity of what was going on in the world. His verbal humor in the subtitles was not only funnier and droller than that of any other silent comedian, but also strangely contemporary. Keaton's bleak vision of cosmic futility is disguised as the fever dream of a vaudeville pro who’s just trying to get a laugh, but we aren’t fooled. We respond to his stoical beauty as he pratfalls on the edge of oblivion. Dan Kamin is the author of "The Comedy of Charlie Chaplin: Artistry in Motion." Dan created the physical comedy sequences for the films "Chaplin" and "Benny and Joon" and trained Robert Downey, Jr. and Johnny Depp for their acclaimed starring performances. He performs internationally, frequently as a guest artist with symphony orchestras.
Larry Pisoni
Larry with his son Lorenzo
I prefer Keaton, his history/experience. I respond to the manner in which he sets up the story and each gag. Keaton was clearly an acrobat and, to my eye, Chaplin was a dancer. It all comes down to personal preference in the end. Larry was a co-founder of the Pickle Family Circus, where he clowned alongside Geoff Hoyle, Bill Irwin, and his own son, Lorenzo. His extensive performance credits include Robert Altman's film, "Popeye" and, more recently, his son's film "Circus Kid."
Bill Irwin
Charlie Chaplin is everywhere. Not just clowns and pantomimists, but breakdancers, stand-up comics and music-video makers draw constantly —often unconsciously— on the work of the silent film comedians the way musicians look back to the blues. And at the center of that amazing work stands Charlie Chaplin, regally —in fact at times a little imperiously— a brilliant clown who learned to make movies when there was no one to learn it from... Chaplin was the early film comic who did most to vary the rhythms and give the wild and silly early silents a grammar and punctuation, making them less quaint. You may not be able to describe all the gags, but you can usually re-tell the stories of Chaplin's comedies. It's harder with, say, the earlier Keystone Cops; with them, there's some wonderful stuff but it feels a little primordial... Even Buster Keaton, the other titan of silent comedy and many people's favorite, while more athletic and acrobatic than Chaplin, occasionally let the stock nature of his falls show a bit in the knockabout —amazing though the falls were. It's a little rarer to be able to recognize stock bits of vocabulary with Chaplin....
You always know what the Keaton character is up to, even if you may not be able to name it or describe it. What's the blend that makes Buster Keaton's physical comedy so wild and so visceral but at the same time so finished, so sure? For one thing, he was one of his era's finest actors and one of the best acrobats ever captured on film. As an acrobat, he had a particular —and very rare— actor's knowledge of how to harness the story-telling potential of acrobatic movement. Hang out with gymnasts or circus tumblers, even stunt players, and you'll see how the emphasis their craft places on execution tends to make it difficult for them to think about narrative. Ask directors how often they've been wowed by acrobats at live auditions and then had to leave it all on the cutting room floor later on. Keaton and a few other graduates of knockabout vaudeville made it work.
Never in his irony does there seem to be any contempt for his characters, or for his audience. It's a fine and difficult line, mordant wit without contempt. What seems to guide Keaton is a true belief in innocence and the possibility of heroism....
Chaplin worked the cause and effect of human motive, too. In ''The Rink'' Charlie and that accomplished foil Eric Campbell endlessly trip, shove and pummel each other on roller skates. If you only see the action sequences, the violence seems a little gratuitous, but viewed from the beginning it's clear that it's all driven by that supreme gag motivator, jealousy (Edna Purviance is on hand). The easiest thing to forget when you put together physical material is the ''why'' of each move. The run, look, slap, fall of the choreography (especially with camera marks to hit) can take over, and the specifics of maintaining life, limb and semblance of dignity —the great human preoccupations— often get lost; then you're left with that depressing shell: zaniness in general. Chaplin, when he became his own director, rarely let that happen. Bill Irwin is an award-winning clown and actor. As a clown, he is best known for his work with Pickle Family Circus and such shows as "The Regard of Flight," "Fool Moon," and "Old Hats." This text is extracted from two articles written by Bill for the NY Times on the 100th anniversary of each performer's birth: "Chaplin, Inventing Modern Times; How a Classic Clown Keeps Inspiring Comedy" (April 9, 1989), and "Beauty in the Form, and Even in the Face" (July 2, 1995). Amy Gordon
In the time-honored tradition of clowns kvetching over who did it better, I put forth my opinion that Keaton was the more masterful physical comedian. Like most opinions, it tells more about my predilections than any actual truth. I like funny. Keaton’s situations (usually more dire) and reactions (usually more economical) make me laugh every time, still. While both were genius filmmakers and fabulously creative dudes, Chaplin’s art seems more that of a sentimental actor’s, even if he was more wonderfully physically agile than any of the leading men or comedians of his day. Chaplin was also the bigger thinker on the conceptual scale, making statements with his work that spoke to big issues. But Keaton’s timeless visual metaphors, understated acting, perfect timing, partner work, jaw-dropping stunts and simple, unvarnished character make him my choice. Plus, he kinda looks like my grandpa. Forged from vaudeville stock, classical training, and an endless international tour circuit, Amy G is a deluxe weirdo extraordinaire. She's been featured around the world since 2006 in the Olivier Award-Winning "La Soirée," currently playing in Club Swizzle (Perth). Amy has worked in theatres, films, tv, festivals, circuses, variety shows and events in over 40 countries, and performed her original material in 6 different languages.
Moshe Cohen
Chaplin or/and Keaton!!!
Great Clowns, both have universal appeal.
Yet it’s Chaplin who touches me, opens up my imagination, and my laughter.
A recurring conversation over the years, with many people, with many an answer.
All subjective. As it should be. Moshe Cohen, a.k.a. Mr. YooWho, is the founder of Clowns Without Borders-USA. Over the past 25 years, he has given over 2000 performances in over 30 countries. He teaches workshops exploring the expression of personal humor through physical theater and contemporary clown.
Joel Jeske
I would say Keaton.
Why? Well... I think both have unique and iconic film personas.
Chaplin is a great introduction to silent physical comedy.
However... when I saw Keaton from a modern perspective...I found the subtlety of his comic ability and timing a revelation.
I think Chaplin performed in front of the camera whereas Keaton worked with film as a medium. So... I would say Keaton.
Joel Jeske is a professional physical comedian, director, teacher, and creator of his own theater shows. He is a creator and performer for the physical theatre company Parallel Exit and has toured with Ringling Brothers, Cirque du Soleil, and Big Apple Circus. An encyclopedia of comedy knowledge, Joel is committed to passing along this unique and distinctive art form to future generations of performers.
Fred Yockers
It's Keaton all the way for me. Stand-out reasons:
1. His style is much more in my wheelhouse —slapdash with the slow double-take, deadpan reaction.
2. His stunts were much more spectacular.
3. His plots more "epic."
4. And if nothing else, the sympathy for his childhood as an abused vaudeville child, followed by the decline in his end days, making beer commercials. The son of the legendary Coney Island Steeplechase clown, Freddy the Tramp, Fred Yockers clowned with Ringling Brothers and other circuses, with partner John Towsen for about a dozen years, and as a solo clown nationally and internationally.
David Lichtenstein
I'm a Chaplin man. While Buster's big stone face sometimes gets the bigger laugh, Chaplin displayed a far bigger repertoire of lazzi; he's a brilliant comic dancer and prop manipulator. And a fuller clown character too. And inarguably Chaplin went far beyond Keaton in producing major films of great social importance. For the ages, urban poverty and the Great Depression is represented in City Lights, industrialization in Modern Times, and WWII and the fight against fascism are forever captured in The Great Dictator. Note that he made City Lights just before the Great Depression and The Great Dictator just before WWII, truly a great artist of his times! David Lichtenstein has been a professional performer specializing in street, clown, and variety theater for over 25 years. He is a Clowns without Borders vice-president.
Sigfrido Aguilar
After graduating from drama school, I traveled to Europe for nine months to observe classical theater in France and England. When I returned to America, I began my self-taught studies of creative stage movement and mime by focusing on the investigation and analysis of the silent film comedians. Observing the films of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, I learned the essence of what comedic scenic language is for me, my own popular theatrical world of movement and gesture.
From the comic sense, Chaplin, over the years, developed his pathos as a performer and this fact made him transcend his acting with body and soul to become a unique artist.
Keaton, from the beginning with his stone-face signature, had an immediate artistic effect of drama and comedy in his acting, as well as the complete presence of a neutral performer. It is his total neutral value as a theatrical performer that makes me like him the most. Sigfrido is an internationally renowned performer and teacher. He is the director of the Estudio Busqueda de Pantomima-Teatro in Guanajuato, Mexico and founder of the International Festival of Contemporary Mime in Mexico.
Barry Lubin
Photo: Maike Schulz
Keaton, internalized, was stoic. Chaplin, in childlike ways, explored the world actively. Chaplin represented the childlike self in adult body, not looking for trouble but finding it anyway. I related better to Chaplin for his emotional battles with authority. Keaton found himself in crazy situations made crazier by his stoicism. Then, in genius ways, often subtly, Keaton managed to survive those impossible situations.
My treadmill act was directly influenced by Chaplin, knowing that if he were alive today and walked into a health club, the props and characters would be his playground. Barry "Grandma" Lubin is the author of Tall Tales of a Short Clown.
Jonathan Lyons
For me, it is first and always Buster Keaton. While in high school, I attended a screening of Seven Chances. I had never laughed so hard in my life, and may not have since. The chase of a thousand brides was beyond anything I had seen before, and the sheer scale of the event nearly caused me to fall out of my seat. It was Keaton’s ability to create sequences that were not only hilarious, but spectacular that makes him the easy choice for me. Chaplin was better on a personal level, up close, but Keaton was big enough to partner with storms and steam trains. Jonathan Lyons is a lifelong fan of physical comedy. A professional animator by trade (Lucas Films, "Pirates of the Caribbean"), he also wrote the book "Comedy for Animators" and authors the blog, comedyforanimators.com.
Jeff Raz
I loved Chaplin first, because my mother loved him. As an adult, I got to know and love Keaton. Both great, both teachers to us now, both still vital. Jeff is a clown , actor, teacher, and director. He has had leading roles with Vaudeville Nouveau, Make A Circus, Pickle Family Circus, and Cirque du Soleil. He founded and directed the Clown Conservatory (San Francisco) and is the author of the new book, "The Secret Life of Clowns."
Joe Dieffenbacher
Chaplin was the first silent comedian I saw and, as a visually oriented kid, I was fascinated by this wholly visual clown. As an adult, I appreciated his themes and his depiction of a tramp's life and how he dealt with it, sometimes aggressively, sometimes dreamily. I discovered Keaton much later via Walter Kerr's The Silent Clowns. Here was the supreme visual comedian! As a budding slapstick comic, he was a great inspiration: I loved how his physical comedy took in the big picture (houses falling on him, boats taking over his love life, trains taking out his home, even Mother Nature having a go), and he is the author of the clearest, most profound advice on creating comedy. "Think slow. Act fast. Create a situation and introduce a character that tries their best. No begging." Keaton inspired me to attempt a show with a deadpan character, a pure slapstick routine with a ladder (I called it The Trap). It was for the street, a place where exaggeration is often your greatest ally. But with Keaton as my guardian angel, I stuck it out and it remains one of my favorite shows to perform. Working with that kind of economy and clarity taught me so much about comic performance. Choosing a favorite is impossible, they both offer so much. Comparing them I'd say Chaplin makes you watch him —he is always the center of attention, like a demanding child (a very funny and skilled one). Keaton lets you watch him, invites you to consider and enjoy his worldview. No begging. Chaplin's films took on social issues and I appreciate him for that. Keaton was less specific but still able to comment on how the little man deals with the big bad world. The loss of his independent status just as he was exploring feature films is to me one of the great tragedies; what he might have produced had he been allowed to continue as an independent filmmaker! To me, their greatest achievement is the fact that over a hundred years later, their films still elicit laughs from modern audiences. Might all comedians be so lucky... Joe Dieffenbacher has been working as a physical comedian, teacher and director for over 30 years. His style incorporates circus, commedia dell’arte, mask performance and puppetry, the large-scale visual comedy of stadium shows, the focused work of the theatre clown, as well as the confrontational approach of the stand-up comic. He is known internationally for his circus, stage and cabaret work with his company Nakupelle. www.joedieffenbacher.com
Michael McGuigan
Oh man, tough one. Arrrrgh. I like Keaton's character more. There is a sweetness about him that earns points over Chaplin in that department. But truth be told I reference storylines and specific gags of Chaplin more than Keaton. Chaplin's The Circus has so many brilliant bits it's not funny (oh wait, it's VERY funny) and the social commentary of Modern Times and The Kid greatly appeals to my sense of agitprop theater. If I think of it this way, approaching their work for what I can use to influence my work, it would be an exercise in futility for me to steal from Keaton's character, which I love dearly and would imitate extremely poorly. But Chaplin is a gold mine of bits and storytelling that I can outright steal and make my own. So I think I gotta go with Chaplin, by a red nose. Michael McGuigan is a longtime wide-world physical performing artist, teacher, and Managing Director of Bond Street Theatre, NYC.
Johnny Melville
Chaplin and Keaton were geniuses in their own way. However, Chaplin was a very strong "unconscious" influence on me in the fifties when Scottish TV only really featured a limited kind of telly. We only had TV from 5-12 for a long time in my youth —I was really brought up on radio comedy. But when it did come it was mainly Chaplin: his speed, his riotous situations, all had an effect on me that was to bloom when I started to clown around London's tough housing estates when I was 26-29 and learning my trade in the raw. Hit and miss, try this try that, but like Chaplin's and Keaton's' own beginnings. As I started to study those clown historic heroes I was based at the Oval a few hundred meters away from Chaplin's Camberwell home. It was Keaton who took my focus later, however, as his clown I believe is more the intellectual clown, more adult, and therefore more appreciated by the adult, than the more cheeky and kid-childlike style of Charlie. So, in a nutshell, Chaplin influenced my child and was the instigator of my clown beginnings, and soon Keaton became the cream on the cake, at least as the role model. Chaplin, of course, developed his art into the movies much more. Poor Keaton had the comedown after the silents ended and drink took him off his potential, that very sad, all the more hurtful to see him in Limelight as a shadow of what he had been, whereas Chaplin is still going strong as the inventive performer. Johnny Melville is a Scottish-born, Barcelona-based actor, director, clown, writer, energy-sculptor, and "lightwork healer." He is celebrating his 45 years in the biz in 2018.
Steve Smith
Steve at 65
I feel like this is like trying to pick your favorite sibling, or which of your children you love the most.
Keaton has unmatchable technical skills both in front of and behind the camera. His ability to communicate so well and so deeply even with his great Stone Face is remarkable. And for physical stunts and falls... unequaled.
Chaplin is more lyrical & poetic and often criticized for being sentimental. To that I say pish, posh & pshaw. He was a brilliant storyteller who knew how to underscore each scene of each story with clarity of movement, focus and the music he composed to make his art as accessible to the largest number of people as possible.
And, oh by the way, both of these geniuses were INVENTING THE MEDIUM as they worked. Steve Smith —teacher, director, performer, clown & comic spirit. From circus to cruise lines, cabarets to coliseums, theatre, theme parks, television & more...a very fortunate human being now in his 47th year in the business of show.
Mimi Calado
How difficult for me to have to choose the best in a comparison of two geniuses like Keaton and Chaplin. Both make me laugh a lot and inspire me to this day. Buster Keaton had a better body for comedy, acrobat, and exemplary comedian, but I believe that the way Chaplin managed to talk about political and humanitarian matters without losing the comedian's funny way of practicing poetic comedy makes him the best. Mimi Calado is a Brazilian clown and mime currently living in New York City. He most recently performed with the Yankee Doodle Circus. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xewmBSIZ0Uo
Vladimir Olshansky
Buster Keaton is a wonderful comedian. But just a comedian. Chaplin is a brilliant comedian humanist. In my opinion, Keaton was a stronger actor than Chaplin. Chaplin was not only a great comedian artist but also a citizen, a citizen of the world. Hitler wanted to kill Chaplin, not Keaton. When there was a “witch hunt,” Chaplin was forced to leave the States. He was not a communist, he was a humanist. If we compare the topics addressed by these two great comedians, then it becomes obvious. It is so important for an artist to experience all the pain and imperfection of our world and express it in his work. Then his art becomes clear to all mankind. All over the world, people imitated Chaplin, not Keaton. Chaplin was able to express what excited ordinary, small people around the world. Therefore, as a person and as an artist, he is more significant than Keaton. Vladimir Olshansky originated the role of "Yellow" in Slava Polunin’s "Snow Show," and has worked as a clown in the Cirque du Soleil. He moved to the U.S. in the late 80s, where he was one of the pioneers in the development of the "clown doctor." In 1996, he co-founded "Soccorso Clown," a national organization of hospital clowns in Italy. Presently, he is performing his metaphysical comedy "Strange Games"
Nola Rae
I love and admire both Chaplin and Keaton, but I love Keaton more. His character was the more gentle, always falling into scrapes rather than necessarily causing them. Situations happened to him and he struggled to do his best but without malice. (The French film comics Jaques Tati and Pierre Etaix had similar gentle and naive characters). Keaton was always trying to be accepted. Chaplin was forever the rebel. Both clowns had wonderful faces. But Keaton, realizing he had a bad smile for film, made the fact he didn't smile an advantage. The eyes said it all. There are deadpan comedians, but Keaton was not one of them. His emotions always shone out. A great clown without guile and without smile was always going to be extra special. Trained at the Royal Ballet School and with Marceau Marceau, Nola Rae MBE is one of Britain's most celebrated visual performers, playing 68 countries to date.
Don Rieder
I appreciate Walter Kerr's understanding of Keaton in The Silent Clowns. Kerr understands Keaton's silence, the pause, the architecture of the gag, the understanding of the camera and the frame. Keaton's craft is nearly perfect. In terms of content, though, he and his gag writers show a marked insensitivity towards minorities and people of color. Paleface, while sympathetic to native Americans losing their land to corporate greed, uses Hollywood 'Indians' and offensive stereotypes. The text frames show that the 'Indians' cannot speak in fully formed sentences in 1922. The action in Cops is initiated by the stereotyped Balkan bomb tossers with ridiculous mustaches. In Seven Chances, jokes are made at the expense of Jews and black women. In The Navigator there are the "savages." And in Steamboat Bill, Jr., if this is Mississippi, where are all the black people? There is one black man and Keaton frightens him into eye-popping panic. A choice typical of the period. Another case of Keaton's apparent racism or adoption of the racism of the period is The General. Keaton supports The Lost Cause, secession, and the war to protect the right to own people. Finally, there's The Cameraman. Keaton in top form as a gag writer and stunt performer, but the opening scenes in "Chinatown" pander to anti-Chinese sentiment. Keaton has always played comedy using stereotypes. Consider the fact that he began in The Three Keatons with its Irish domestic violence routine playing to anti-Irish sentiment. No Irish need apply.
No, I prefer Chaplin who did not resort to racial and ethnic stereotypes for his comedy, who portrayed cops as people who protected the status quo by abusing the poor, who poked fun at the upper classes, who sympathized with the poor, and who, as a performer, had the more complex phrasing and the grace and articulate elegance of a dancer. But a Time's Up and #metoo of that period would have chased him to Switzerland well before HUAC. Don Rieder is a clown, dancer, storyteller, director, and author. He has toured internationally and is a master teacher whose credits include the Cirque du Soleil, The National Circus School in Montreal, The National Theatre School of Canada, and numerous American and Canadian universities.
Matt Mitler
Keaton, Keaton, Keaton. I became enamored of silent and early comics when I was quite young, and Keaton simply made me laugh more. He still does. Years later, I began to appreciate Chaplin's technical skills, and his mathematical precision, but Keaton still had him beat. The thing with Keaton is that it's never showy, there's a simplicity even in his most outrageous stunts, a selflessness. Chaplin was the bigger crowd pleaser, but I never bought it, I couldn't get past the ego. I give him kudos for his creative range —acting, producing, writing, and directing, and (ok he beats Keaton here) his musical compositions, but Keaton was more visionary as a director/writer and took film into landscapes that were thoroughly, divinely surreal. If you read up on Keaton, you see that he didn't do what he did for acclaim, but because he truly loved it. Of course, you don't need to read anything, it's evident in his every moment. The other thing was that Chaplin played the fool, but at the expense of others, while Keaton himself is always the brunt of the joke. Matt Mitler has brought his anarchic physical comedy to stages, plazas, and centers for disadvantaged populations. He is founding director of Dzieci Theatre, an experimental ensemble balancing work on performance with work of service. dziecitheatre.org
Jeff Seal
First and foremost, I think Chaplin is funnier. I genuinely and consistently laugh at every film he made from Kid Auto Races at Venice to City Lights. On a side note, while I like his talkies I don't think they're very funny. I think it's ironic that Chaplin resisted talking for 10 years after sound came to films and when he finally made the switch to Talkies he wouldn't shut the fuck up. All of his sound films have these long drawn out monologues that drone on and on (except for the final speech in The Great Dictator which is moving and beautiful). Anyway, back to Keaton: while I think he's funny and I love watching his films they don't make me lol as much as Chaplin's do.
Chaplin didn't exploit the medium of film quite as well as Keaton and he never really outgrew the one-reelers, but I think Chaplin more than makes up for it with the Tramp's pathos. Chaplin's films are genuinely moving in a way that Keaton's never were. When asked why his shots were never as "interesting" as Keaton's, Chaplin said, "Because I'm interesting!" I agree! However, Chaplin did incorporate some sophisticated editing in the opening to The Kid, which predicts and predates Sergei Eisenstein's Theory of Montage.
Chaplin wrote, directed and SCORED all his movies himself while Keaton hired gag writers and co-directed most of his films with Eddie Cline. Also, Chaplin made two of the greatest silent films ever, Modern Times and City Lights in the 1930s when literally everyone else was making Talkies and Keaton was getting drunk while living in a trailer on the MGM studio lot. Look, I still love Keaton but I think most people say they like Keaton more than Chaplin just because it sounds cool. Jeff is a comedian and filmmaker and a graduate of the Clown Conservatory at the SF Circus Center. He makes comedy videos for Bankrukt Productions and is one of the artistic directors of Cloud City, an arts space in Brooklyn.
Dave Carlyon
Buster is better. I respect, admire, and honor both Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin. Each had immense comic talent and great physical skill (which are different things). Little can match Chaplin’s roller skating in The Department Store. They also had equally impressive drives, its own separate talent, that created wonderful work. However, in my estimation, Keaton has three advantages.
First, Keaton is more inventive. (And I’m not saying that just because Chaplin gets credit for the fork-&-roll dance in Gold Rush that Roscoe Arbuckle had done before him.) Though Chaplin is inventive too, his inventiveness focuses on himself. His sets and scenes contribute to the story less than they serve as a backdrop to better display him and his comic business. For instance, in Modern Times, he built a factory without any function except to be a setting for the jokes he wanted to do. He costumed a woman with buttons like bolts on her front for the joke of using his wrenches on her. Keaton, by contrast, always plays with the reality of the world he’s in. As a performer, he uses the specific physical elements around him as his partner. When he engaged the mechanical world, in The General, he didn’t build a train to show off comic business he thought up, but thought up comic business to fit an actual train in the reality of the story he’s telling. As a filmmaker, he manipulates the physical space and the movie frame in similarly inventive, playful ways. Sherlock, Jr. is a master class in using the techniques of filmmaking to tell the story, to craft comedy, and to subtly display how films create the illusion of reality.
Second, Keaton’s work has a clarity that his counterpart lacks. With Chaplin, everything tends to a wink & a shrug & a slide & a kick. Though those moments are fun, sometimes funny, together they cloud the view, so we come away with more sense of him than what we’d seen around him. Consider Keaton sitting on the bar connecting the train wheels in The General when they start to move. It’s a gag. It’s clean. It works. Now imagine Chaplin doing that scene: he’d use his wonderfully expressive eyes to show us a thought, then a feeling, then another thought, next he’d wiggle his eyebrows and shrug, or stumble and make another face, or do all of it. In actor jargon, he'd make a meal of it. Excess can work great in comedy but Chaplin’s moves pile up on each other, creating a fog of “Chaplinesque,” which overwhelms our sense of the films themselves. Most clowns can, at the flip of a cane, do a reasonable facsimile of Chaplin-like moves. (Do we need another Chaplin-wannabe shrugging shoulders, tilting head up coyly, and pursing lips in an impish smile?) By contrast, imitations of Keaton barely work because they usually go for a pose of the immobility, which doesn’t capture him. Despite his reputation as the Great Stone Face, it’s the seemingly infinite variety of his moves that animate his movies. And whether those moves are frantic activity or stillness —its own kind of activity for a good physical performer— he uses what he does to create particular moments for a particular purpose.
The third point follows from that: Keaton has an emotional honesty I don’t see in Chaplin’s relentless sentimentality. Though Chaplin deserves credit (some credit) for making satirical points, sentimentality is his default mode, to orchestrate our responses, tug us to make sure we notice poignancy, all but wave his arms so we don’t miss him smiling bravely through sadness. He does it very well: I sometimes fall into whatever emotion he’s pitching. But it’s still sentimentality. Keaton works differently. Not calling attention to himself or his character’s plight in the insistent way Chaplin does, Keaton focuses on the move, the image, the shot, and then gets on with it. No begging for us to love him. Instead, he lets us meet him halfway, finding our own way into the moment he’s created, deciding how we feel about it. Dave is an ex-Ringling clown, Equity actor, and director who wrote the award-winning books, "Dan Rice: The Most Famous Man …" and "Education of a Circus Clown: Mentors, Audiences, Mistakes."www.davidcarlyon.net
Will Shaw
I have been greatly inspired and influenced by Mr. Keaton and certainly “resonate” with his work more. However, it seems to me that Chaplin’s accomplishments are so great that we tend to take them for granted: they’re just part of the cultural landscape like mountains are part of the natural landscape. In reality, of course, his work didn’t exist before he created it. To this day, his Little Tramp character is still the most common logo of the entire art of cinema. Keaton is a bit more of a niche taste —almost a startling revelation when discovered by people of our era because it is so great while Chaplin’s massive popular appeal has kept his work, to some extent, always a given. So, while I personally am a Buster fanatic, if forced, I would say that Chaplin’s accomplishments were a bit greater. Will Shaw is the winner of the Bistro Award from Backstage, the theatrical trade paper, as one of New York City's top cabaret performers. He has been seen on Letterman, the Daily Show, Sesame Street, and pretty much everywhere else.
Aaron Watkins
Laurel & Hardy.
Aaron is perhaps best known as the editor of If Every Fool's "Clown-Theatre Gazette."
***
As for me? I wouldn't argue that one is objectively better than the other, but ever since my first introduction to them in the early 1970s, I was always in Keaton's camp, to the point of hero worship —I even had a cat named Buster Kitten. I found Keaton funnier and more relatable. I thought and spoke of Keaton as "Buster," but Chaplin was always just "Chaplin" to me, never "Charlie." All art is manipulative, but I went along more easily with Keaton moment to moment, whereas I found myself resisting Chaplin's efforts to tell me what to think and feel. As Keaton once said, "What you have to do is create a character. Then the character just does his best, and there's your comedy. No begging." And Keaton, with his surrealistic touches and existential angst, seemed more modern, or perhaps more timeless.
The 70s were also my formative circus years, so I naturally gravitated toward the acrobat more than to the mime/dancer. Still, both were a marvel in their use of physicality in comedy. Absolute geniuses.
So yes, I admire both, and now it's time to sit back and do some serious re-watching, enlightened by all of these great perspectives, thank you very much!
***
Here are Chaplin and Keaton sharing "centerstage" for the only time in Chaplin's 1952 film, Limelight, a quarter-century after the silent-film era.
But as Ben Robinson points out, Keaton (as a waiter) and Chaplin (as himself) did share the screen in a 1922 promo filmfor the Independent Screen Artists Guild.
And finally, via Dan Vie, here's a 52-minute Spanish documentary juxtaposing the work of Chaplin and Keaton.
...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 16 years ago; still 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.
Your Travalanche Daily Digest for October 28, 2026
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Today’s new Travalanche posts for October 28, 2026 are about the Statue of
Liberty, and Houdini’s Budapest. Earlier Travalanche posts for October 28
(in no...
The Ziratron
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Don Tancredo y el lanzador de cuchillos
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*Historia de un hombre (Clemente Pamplona, 1962)*
Telmo —Ángel Ter en la única ocasión en que ejerció de protagonista
absoluto— pierde su trabajo como ca...
The Ultimate Haunting Halloween Puppetry Guide
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🎃🧙♀️ PUPPETS COME HOME: THE HALLOWEEN EDITION 🧙♀️🎃 This month’s
Puppets Come Home was made for monsters, goblins, witches, and puppets! 👻
An inclu...
Remembering Catalan Clown Claret Papiol
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A video was posted today on Instagram, marking the one year anniversary of
the passing of Claret Papiol. The name sounded vaguely familiar, and when
I l...
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
