In Charlie Chaplins film The Circus (1928), the maestro confronts his own worst nightmare: the clown who cant raise a laugh. The tramp is auditioning for a place in a failing circus. The villainous moustachioed ring-master commands him: GO AHEAD AND BE FUNNY (its a silent movie, so this is a caption). The tramp takes his place in the centre of the ring, does his trade-mark bow-legged waddle and then attempts to lift himself higher by using his cane as a lever. Its pathetic. The ring-master turns away in disgust. This is the comedy inventor in an unusual double bind: he must be funny while pretending to be unfunny.
Was Chaplin actually a funny man, away from the camera? The history books tell us that he wasnt. One of his first employers, Fred Karno, said:
He wasnt very likeable. Ive known him go weeks without saying a word to anyone in the company. He lived like a monk, had a horror of drink, and put most of his salary in the bank as soon as he got it.
Karno gave Charlie his first big break, in the troupe of speechless comedians that carried his name. Karno, born in Devon, is Exeters most famous son, although he is rarely fêted in his home town. When I wrote a play about the great impresario twenty years ago, Exeter theatres turned it down flat, so it was done at Bristol Old Vic by Chris Harris, Kevin Lloyd, Kerry Shale and other stalwarts. Happy times.
Karnos trick was to adapt the slapstick and acrobatic comedy of the circus clowns to the music-hall stage, in mostly improvised, knockabout comedy sketches drunks, custard pies, cod villains, whitewash and step-ladders. A special Karno trick was the absurdity of the trick that doesnt come off the conjurer who fails to bring the rabbit out of the hat, the singer who does all the big preparation and then produces a weedy note, the juggler who loses his balls, the drunk who cant find his seat.
Karno had also learned his comedy trade in the circus ring, as part of The Three Karnos acrobatic troupe. On the music-hall stage, comedians were restricted to mime, acrobatic and dance routines. Chaplin toured American theatres as one of Karnos Speechless Comedians. Maybe the bad-tempered ringmaster in The Circus was Chaplin remembering his old boss. He certainly made extensive use of Karno comedy routines in his first silent comedies for the Essanay Company.
Charlie Chaplin with Merna Kennedy in The Circus.
The Circus was the last Chaplin film from the silent era. Its production was beset with difficulties. Marital problems a recurring theme of Chaplins young life coincided with arguments over the distribution of the movies. Also, the FBI was now on his case, believing him to be sympathetic with the leftist beliefs. Charlies investigation began in 1922, when an agent called AA Hopkins passed on the information to the FBI that Charlie had given a reception for a prominent labour leader, William Z Foster. Under questioning, Chaplin claimed, I do not want to create any revolution, all I want to do is create a few more films. I might amuse people. I hope so.
The FBI interviewed scores of witnesses and compiled a 400 page report. In 1927, Chaplin suffered a serious nervous breakdown. Three days after that, the broken comedian learned from a story in the New York Times that the US Government was about to lien on his assets. A fear of failure was plaguing him.
In The Circus, the tramp is fired as an incompetent clown and then re-hired as a property man because the backstage staff have gone on strike. While transporting a rippling pile of dishes for the jugglers, Charlie is chased by the uncontrollable Unrideable Mule into the ring, where he makes a spectacular fall, sending spirals of dishware into the air around him. The audience goes wild, the circus is saved, and Charlie and the Mule become the nightly high spot of the show. The caption reminds us: HES A SENSATION BUT DOESNT KNOW IT
Chaplins legacy
The leaves fall off the calendar, and a new theatre show that combines the magic of acrobatics, illusion, puppetry and clowning has recently been amazing audiences in Hong Kong, Portugal, Cognac and Hammersmith. I caught up with the tour in Oxford. Aurelias Oratorio defies pigeon-holing, but the name of Chaplin on the programme offers a clue as to its creative provenance.
Born in a trunk, Aurelia Thierree from Aurelias Oratorio, photographed by Richard Haughton
The curtain reveals a solid chest of drawers, on a dark stage. A beautiful wide-eyed face emerges from the middle drawer, followed by feet from the top drawer, but at a physically impossible angle. Then there are hands (far too many!), a champagne glass, and a bottle to fill. A high-heeled shoe, looking for a foot
The face, and some of the limbs, belong to Aurelia Thierree. Born in a trunk, she made her first public performance in her fathers Cirque Bonjour, which later became Le Cirque Imaginaire and redefined circus for the 1970s, surreal and inventive.
Jean-Baptiste Thierree would make his clownish entrance into the ring, with a suitcase in each hand. When he put them down, each would sprout a tiny pair of legs, and scamper off! 30 years on, the same legs are now emerging from Aurelias chest of drawers, to our amazement. Later they will shin up the curtains with no visible steps for a foothold, and swing from a scarlet trapeze. She will fly a kite from up there: the kite will be on the ground, its handler is up in the sky. Its all logical.
The same swathes of red material will provide a tow-rope for a toy farm, a winking lighthouse. A toy train will find a way to travel through a tunnel in Aurelias stomach. A black-and-white puppet theatre will be created, a gauze curtain becoming a snow storm. A puppet beast will eat Aurelias white-stockinged leg: she knits herself a replacement!
This fantastical show was devised and directed by Victoria Thierree Chaplin, daughter of Charles. Victoria is Aurelias mother. I met them both in the theatre bar at Oxford, after a sell-out performance, to an enthralled audience. Aurelia is very complimentary about her mothers powers of invention:
She is always finding new ways of using old things, thats what I like about her work. She has an idea, she will build a model with pieces of cardboard and then bring it to life with ropes and cords and cloths. Its a nightmare, because every night you think something will break, or collapse but somehow it always works, its magic! It takes coordination, and a bit of madness, then a lot of rehearsals.
Co-ordination, a bit of madness, and lots of rehearsals Aurelias grandfather was also notorious for spending months on one film scene, working on just one piece of business, unable to compromise. Production of The Circus was delayed for weeks because the director, writer and leading player had run away to France to escape from his demons. Studio executives tore their hair out, desperate to deliver the finished reels of film to the distributor. But creative invention doesnt work to a time-table. Aurelia knows this:
The ideas have been there for many years but the thing is to renew them and bring them back to life in a different way of today. Theatre is a language, and of course it changes so we are continually looking for new ways to entertain and new ways to be inventive. And that is our link with the past. When it comes off, its so agreeable. You work away on an idea at home, in the garage, and youre really excited; but then to present it to an audience and find that theres an immediate connection there, with audiences in Oxford, or Lisbon or Hong Kong its uplifting, a real thrill.
For details of Aurelias Oratorios ongoing European tour see www.cryingoutloud.org
