The Evolution of the Tablecloth Pull from ?? to WES-P to Pope Francis

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First a little history:

You all know Ye Olde Tablecloth Pull, yanking a tablecloth off a table without disturbing the dishes on top of it. It's a neat effect that became what the Victorians labeled a parlor trick, because this was what passed for convivial amusement in their gentlemanly hangout caves, a fine prelude to the next game of cribbage, a glass of sherry in one hand and a cigar in the other. (The spectators, not the gentleman showing off.)

As with most tricks, it's impossible to know for sure who originated this one, but we do know that restaurant physical comedy acts, a heady mixture of acrobatics and juggling, date back to at least Grimaldi's Harlequin and Mother Goose (1806) and served as a climax to the Hanlon-Lees Voyage en Suisse (1870). This sort of thing became the basis for several 19th-century comedy juggling acts, most prominently Les 7 Perezoff.   

Did any of these acts include a tablecloth pull? Maybe, but I haven't found any description or poster that would prove it. Other than our cat above, pictured at the banquet table of King Louis XIV, the first human use of it in an act that juggling historian David Cain could pinpoint was by the "gentleman juggler" Kara (1867–1939). Gentleman jugglers were so called because they dressed in formal attire and juggled objects that might be found in an (upscale) home; W.C. Fields did some of this in his early juggling days. My magician friend Ben Robinson informs me that a version of the trick was also in the act of the magician Chung Ling Soo (real name: William Robinson). He was born six years before Kara, so who knows which of these two came first. And I suppose it doesn't matter all that much since, no doubt, some lesser-known performer —or perhaps some flamboyant waiter— did it before them.

Kara

Juggler H. M. Lorette took notes on Kara's act, which included "Pulled
table cloth from under large amount of crockery and spun the cloth on the end of a billiard cue." Other props mentioned are: pool ball rack, chalk, bottle, and a cue, coin, shoe, monocle, candlestick, candle, glass of wine, three straws, tray, bottle, matchbox, cigar, knife, fork, orange, plate, napkin, bowl, ladle, hat rack, and three high hats. Oh yeah, and five juggling balls. But as far as I can tell, it's mostly been presented as a stand-alone trick, independent of any comedic situation.

And a bit of science:
It's relatively simple to do, and probably most of you have already mastered it. But just in case, let's start with the basics. There are several videos on YouTube that show how it works and explain the science of it. This one by Louis Bloomfield, whose How Things Work series is now on YouTube, is my favorite.

When Clowns (pretend to) Do It
Here are the Rastellis mining one of the oldest clown formulas in the book:

Note that there's more trickery here than a typical audience member might suspect. Yes, the plates are attached, though loosely enough so they move a couple of inches. But how then does the tablecloth pass underneath the wires? Very likely just some slits in the cloth that no one would notice during the setup.

Too Easy... so let's make it harder
Of course, humans are only human and performers are perfomative, so new wrinkles have been introduced into that cloth to make it more astounding to the audience. You won't get much mileage out of a trick anyone can do. Adding more objects is the usual route taken, but I think my favorite is the reverse pull by juggler and comedian Mat Ricardo:

Mat also does the classic pull while spinning a diablo, and does another version with a very long table, and has an excellent how-to video on the basic tablecloth pull that you can find here. Note that he advises pulling the cloth straight back, not down, as others advise. This makes sense to me because I would think that pulling downward would create more friction with the table edge.

But speaking of more objects, I am also fond of yanking the cloth when someone is sitting on a chair on the tabletop. I saw this done in the Big Apple Circus, I think sometime in the 80s, and have tried it successfully. Each leg of the chair is placed on a plate —and you probably don't want to choose the heaviest volunteer available to sit in that chair. Other than that, it's the same. The only video I currently have of it is me showing it in a physical comedy workshop in Toronto in I think 1991. (I see that I did have hair so it was a long time ago.) My yank was more up than back, so it didn't totally work, but you get the idea. I will try to remember to shoot a clean version of it sometime soon and then erase this incriminating evidence of my fallibility from these pages!

Somewhat related is this impressive magic trick by Doc Murdock that Ben Robinson sent me, in which Murdock makes the tablecloth and all the objects appear out of nowhere.

But who needs science, who needs skilled performers, when you have CGI?
More elaborate versions have shown up on television and in the movies, but we always have to ask if it's real or if it's CGI. (I was going to write "Is it real or is it Memorex?" but was afraid that would be lost on you youngins out there.) Let's go back to our old friend Mat Ricardo to expose some of the dastardly deception being practiced by our digital overlords:

And who needs CGI when you have AI?
Even Pope Francis got into the act!

Obviously, a fake video, but I was faking you out by calling it AI. It predates this particular AI capacity so it's just very good CGI. In other words, the creators had to spend hours and hours on it, not a minute or two.

But finally to our headliner, WES-P
I promised you evolution, and just like Darwin I have kept my word. All eyes please on the star of the moment, WES-P (Kazuhisa Uekusa) a Japanese comedian whose fame came via Twitter and TikTok and led to his appearance on several different "(Our Nation's) Got Talent" shows. And his signature trick, what first catapulted him to fame, was nothing other than the tablecloth pull. Or rather, multiple insane variations. WES-P is technically brilliant and makes wildly imaginative use of all kinds of everyday objects. He takes tricks that "normal people" do and shows how a pro does it.

But his main comedy angle centers around his baring 95% of his decidedly pudgy body and threatening to reveal the final 5% should his trick go haywire. Yes, I am talking about his naughty parts. We are light-years from that very proper Victorian parlor!

And in case you're thinking that these are somehow faked, or that he shot it a hundred times before getting it to work, here's one of his many live performances.

OK, it's funny and it's physical, so is it physical comedy? 

Yes and no. I'm guessing WES-P made you laugh. I at least chuckled, and I was amazed. ("I thought I'd seen it all.") But is it funny because it's weird cool? Funny because of his appearance? Funny because penises are funny? Maybe all of the above, but if so, it is still a different kind of funny. There's no gag, no story, no delicious "clown moments" where we see a character caught in a predicament of their own making. It's an amazing novelty act, I admire it, wish I could do it, but it's a specific kind of funny.

Let me contrast it, not with the Rastelli's formulaic clown gag, but with the Pope Francis sketch. The richest physical comedy grows out of a specific character and situation, and this one sure does. (Let's put aside the CGI for a moment.)  The dignity of the pope, which is amplified by the setting and the table setting, is a perfect setup for the inappropriate silliness. Who's doing the trick? The pope! We knew he was the coolest pope ever, but really?? But what truly sells it is the startled reaction of the bishop, a subtle 2-second take that makes all the difference.

Let's let Steve Kaplan explain why.

In his book The Hidden Tools of Comedy, Kaplan writes that"the real dynamic is of watcher and watched... Think of Kramer in Seinfeld. The comedy isn't just in watching Kramer behave in his typically outrageous fashion, the comedy requires Jerry or George or Elaine to watch it in bemused or bewildered amazement." Yep, and I would add that this was why George Burns was such a great straightman for Gracie Allen. Or if you're familiar with When Harry Met Sally, think of the famous "I'll have what she's having" scene.

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 "When I started, I used to think that comedy was watching someone do something silly,

We later came to realize that comedy was watching someone watch someone doing something silly." –John Cleese

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This is how I tend to think too, that there is a difference between "funny" and "comedy," but that's for a longer discussion and another blog post...

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• Check out Mat Ricardo, quite an interesting guy. He and American writer Bill Barol have a podcast about creativity entitled Imagination & Junk, from the Thomas Edison quote, "To invent, you need a good imagination and a pile of junk." Ricardo is also the author of The Magic in You. and he has a video lecture called "It's Not the What, It's the Who," which I imagine would fit in perfectly with this post. You can see Mat at the Irish National Circus Festival in Tralee, hosting and performing in the gala show on November 8th (2025)

• If you're hungry for a little more Asian tablecloth action, you'll probably enjoy a taste of this Ramen Tablecloth Pull.