CHARLIE CHAPLIN AND HARPO MARX AS MASKS OF

THE COMMEDIA DELL'ARTE: THEORY AND PRACTICE

by

DAVID JAMES LeMASTER, B.A., M.A.

A DISSERTATION

IN

FINE ARTS

Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of Texas Tech University in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Approved

Accepted

Dean of the Graduate School

May, 1995 u ^^a-

)^ O ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank the members of my committee for their help, support, and friendship. I extend a most grateful thanks to Dr. George Sorensen, whose committement to excellence reaches far beyond the classroom. Dr. Sorensen sacrificed of himself as both a reader and a teacher. Thank to Dr. Richard Weaver and Dr. Jim Gregory, for help in preparing my presentation. Thanks to Dr. Mike Schoenecke for his outstanding teaching skills and for giving me confidence as a writer, and thanks to Dr. Leon Higdon for his support and encouragement. I am eternally grateful to Dr. Janet Cooper for all of her help as a director, playwrighting teacher, and mentor. Special thanks also goes to Dr. Constance Kuriyama for her careful attention to detail and her continued help in preparing this document for the future. Special thanks to Jean Ann Cantore and all of my friends in the Texas Tech School of Engineering for encouragement and friendship. This document would never have been possible without the training and support of my family. I want to thank my parents, and especially thank Dr. David R. LeMaster for setting an example and giving me a goal. Special thanks to my wonderful Heather, without whose support I would never have finished.

11 TABLE OF CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ii ABSTRACT iv CHAPTER

I. INTRODUCTION 1 II. LITERATURE REVIEW 10 III. ORIGINS: CHAPLIN HARPO, AND THE COMMEDIA HARLEQUIN 44 IV. ORIGINS: CHAPLIN, HARPO, AND THE PIERROT 82 V. THE MARX BROTHERS AND THE THEATRE OF CRUELTY: UNIQUE SURREALISM OR VAUDEVILLIAN STYLE 130 VI. THE ARTAUDIAN ELEMENTS AS DISPLAYED IN THE MARX BROTHERS AND CHAPLIN 166 VII. THE SEARCH FOR STYLE: CHAPLIN AND MEYERHOLD 207 VIII. MEYERHOLD AND THE COMMEDIA DELL'ARTE: A DISCUSSION OF LAZZI AND HOW THEY APPLY TO CHAPLIN HARPO 231 IX. CONCLUSION 288 X. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY 295 XI. APPENDIX 303

111 ABSTRACT

Harpo Marx and Charlie Chaplin are cinematic representatives of the Commedia dell'Arte, the living theatre of the Renaissance. Their evolutionary developments may be traced by identifying their use of Commedia techniques at various points in their careers. Harpo used lazzi to strengthen the comedic value of his performance, while Chaplin used the lazzi as one technique to develop a three-dimensional character. Harpo remained a Harlequin throughout his career, relying on many of the same lazzi in his final films that he had created for his characters on stage. In contrast, although the early Chaplin possesses the Harlequin's traits, Chaplin continued exploring and sought a more fully developed character that did not rely on slapstick to convey emotion. The character known as "Pierrot" to twentieth century audiences is distinct from the Harlequin because he developed the characteristic of evoking sympathetic pity. Several conclusions may be drawn: First, the Pierrot is a natural product of the evolution of drama from comedy to tragedy to twentieth century tragicomedy. Charlie Chaplin is the link between comedy for the masses and tragicomedy for the common man. Second, Chaplin embodies Meyerholdian and Artaudian technique as both an actor and director, therefore achieving an artistic approach to

iv comedy. Finally, Harpo and his brothers are a filmed link to vaudeville, which may, in turn, be traced to the original Commedia dell'Arte. CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION

No previous study has focused on the similarities between Charlie Chaplin and Harpo Marx, the silent Marx Brother. Critics like Alexander Woollcott commented on their similar use of pantomime and childlike movement, but / there has been no detailed comparison of th^i£__origins or documentation of their comedic techniques. It is not enough to say that both Charlie Chaplin and Harpo Marx made use of pantomime and facial, hand, and bodily movement in their •^ clowning. Their comic characters had similar origins but took different paths to maturity. Harpo and Chaplin are cinematic representatives of the Commedia dell'Arte, the / living theatre of the Renaissance. Their evolutionary developments may be traced by identifying their use of Commedia techniques at various points in their careers. While Chaplin used the Commedia as a tool to progress to something else, Harpo and the Marx Brothers employed Commedia lazzi in order to strengthen the effect of their comedy. Harpo Marx and Charlie Chaplin were unconscious j representatives of the Commedia dell'Arte. Their backgrounds in vaudeville led to their adaptation of Commedia lazzi and characters, which they used to different ends. Harpo used lazzi to strengthen the comedic value of his performance, while Chaplin used the lazzi as one technique while developing a three-dimensional character. The study is divided into nine chapters, consisting of theoretical discussion, comparative analysis, and a comprehensive application of the theory to existing films of Chaplin and the Marx Brothers, followed by a concluding section. The first two chapters include the introduction and a review of the existing literature. This review reveals a lack of critical scholarship regarding Harpo Marx. Most of the works addressing the Marx Brothers consist of photographs or biographical studies without critical commentary; none of them compare Harpo's qualities with the characteristics of a Commedia dell'Arte character. Critical study of Charlie Chaplin ranges from biographies to less- than-academic attempts to equate him with the Commedia l/ Pierrot. These studies make sweeping generalizations about Chaplin and his Commedia counterpart. None of them make an effort to trace the historical development of Chaplin into the Pierrot's personality and style. ^ The introduction and literature review will establish an academic need for the research by showing that the existing body of literature does not address Harpo and Chaplin at the same time and that existing scholarship has not completely connected their traits to the Commedia dell'Arte. This study will demonstrate that Charlie Chaplin was not the only star of vaudeville and film to be influenced by the Commedia dell'Arte, as evidenced by Harpo's use of Commedia technique without attempting to progress beyond the slapstixik routines and lazzi most often associated with it. Proving that both Chaplin and Harpo are linked to the Commedia dell'Arte strengthens the validity of their work because it connects them with a classical tradition in theatre. Harpo was an outstanding comic who concentrated on comedic technique and discovered "bits of business" or lazzi to evoke laughter; Chaplin was a skilled dramatist who fused comedy with tragedy to establish pathos, or sympathetic identification with his character. He was also willing to experiment, abandoning the "Little Tramp" character, his makeup, and even his place in front of the camera in order to progress and develop his art. Chaplin evolved from farce to tragicomedy, while Harpo perfected one style of comedy and remained there. The third and fourth chapters will address the origins of Chaplin and Harlequin and tie them to the Commedia dell'Arte. Chapter III lists recognizable traits of the Commedia Harlequin and then compares them with the characteristics of Chaplin and Harpo, showing that both men were Harlequinesque characters at one point in their careers. The evidence suggests that Harpo remained a Harlequin throughout his career, relying on many of the same lazzi in his final films that he had created in vaudeville and on Broadway. Harpo developed a comedic mask and retained it, failing to explore the regions outside of that mask. In contrast, although the early "Tramp" possesses the Harlequin's traits, Chaplin continued exploring and sought a more fully developed character that did not rely on slapstick in order to convey emotion. Chapter IV reveals the character into which Chaplin evolved. It includes a brief history of the Pierrot and a list of his dominant traits, noting that the Pierrot and the Harlequin come from the same roots since they are variations on the "zanni" character. The character known as "Pierrot" to twentieth-century audiences is distinct from the Harlequin because he .evelope. the characteristic of^^. sympathetic pity. Chaplin attained this quality from the Pierrot, evolving, like the original character, from the trickster qualities of the Harlequin into a comedic figure plagued by tragedy. The Pierrot's characteristics will be applied to Harpo and Chaplin's stage characters, and it will be demonstrated that Chaplin's later "Tramp" was a fully developed Pierrot. Harpo stopped at an early point on the evolutionary ladder, assuming the identity of the symbolic Harlequin; Chaplin continued to explore and progress throughout his career, assuming the identity of the symbolic Pierrot. Chapter V is a comparative analysis of the Marx Brothers and Chaplin. The Marx Brothers' work is often equated with the Theatre of Cruelty described by Antonin Artaud. This association is erroneous; the Marx Brothers were not unique in their attack on society, and their comedy has been mislabeled. The Marx Brothers' work is a combination of Commedia dell'Arte routines and lazzi, and critics should not seek a deeper meaning. This chapter considers Irving Thalberg's attempt to transform Harpo into a sympathetic character and the resultant destruction of the team's sense of the Surreal. Harpo did not progress beyond the Commedia dell'Arte Harlequin; beneath their academic jargon, the "Artaudian" and "Thalbergian" critics recognize an attempt and failure on the part of the Marx Brothers to reach beyond the use of the comic lazzi for the development of pathos. Chapter VI demonstrates that Chaplin did succeed in making a transformation from the Harlequin. Artaud's theories of the theatre are listed and discussed, and an attempt will be made to demonstrate Chaplin's use of the same techniques Artaud envisioned. A review of Artaud's concepts yields interesting results; Artaud's theories may not be applied to Harpo and the Marx Brothers, but they are easily applicable to Chaplin's work. The examination demonstrates theory and application: Chaplin unconsciously used the principles enunciated by Artaud in his own theatrical exploration. It is essential to discover the similarities between Artaud's theories and Chaplin's work in order to understand better the progression of Chaplin from comedy to tragicomedy and from the Harlequin into the Pierrot. Chaplin's unconscious adherence to Artaudian principles is evidence that he developed, progressed, and evolved as an experimental artist. Chapters VII and VIII further explore Chaplin's progression as an artist from comedy into tragicomedy. The transformation may be attributed to several factors: Chaplin sought a higher form of drama on film; Chaplin never discarded ideas and searched for the right moment to use lazzi as an element of character development; Chaplin controlled all production elements as an actor and director. These traits may be applied to the ideas of Russian theorist Vsevolod Meyerhold, whose controlling techniques tempered every aspect of his productions. An examination of Meyerhold in comparison with Chaplin adds depth to the understanding of Chaplin's evolution from a Harlequin to a Pierrot. Chaplin unconsciously used many of Meyerhold's ideas: He took his character and some of the characters around him from the Commedia dell'Arte; he established a / Commedia-style "mask" for Charlie, the "Little Tramp"; he concentrated on a physicalization of the actor to attain an emotion, exploring a technique Meyerhold called "Biomechanics." Chapter VII documents Chaplin's search for style and his stylistic similarities with Meyerhold. It is important to note that Chaplin may be aligned with the theories of both Meyerhold and Artaud, while Harpo and the Marx Brothers adhere to only a few of their principles. Chaplin is most easily compared with Meyerhold, and Meyerhold's use of Commedia in experimental theatre is most important to this study. Like Meyerhold, Chaplin controlled the complete piece of art. In contrast, the Marx Brothers were immersed in the Hollywood studio system and were influenced by directors, producers, and writers. To complete the comparison between the comedians, it is important to identify and list Commedia lazzi and apply them to their films. Chaplin's progression through the Keystone, Essanay, and Mutual films provides scholars with a workshopping process in which Chaplin experimented with both character and style. It is not enough to identify Chaplin and Harpo as the Harlequin and the Pierrot. A detailed examination of their approach to and use of Commedia lazzi is essential in tracing their development. Although they often used the same lazzi, their approaches may be contrasted by their ultimate purpose. This chapter shows that there is some demonstration of nearly all of the traditional lazzi by the Marx Brothers. In contrast, Chaplin used lazzi after determining that they would add to the personality of his character. The detailed examination of lazzi in this chapter is imperative to the completion of this study because it is a comprehensive application of theory to performance. 8 Although Chaplin penned little theory, his experimental process is an application of many of the most important theories of the twentieth century. His work may be compared with Meyerhold, Artaud, and other theorists who have dominated modern theatre. Chaplin's progression from the Commedia Harlequin to the Pierrot parallels his maturation from a cast member in the Keystone studio to his directoral work as a tragicomedian. Harpo was a Harlequin, and the efforts of producers like Thalberg to make Harpo something else were failures. The Marx Brothers were dependent on writers, and their work is an application of Commedia lazzi to modern stage. There was no underlying purpose behind the Marx Brothers' humor; they played vaudeville on film with little desire to explore other techniques. They were a part of the transformation of comedy from the Vaudevillian stage to the Hollywood studio system. The progression of Chaplin from a Harlequin into a Pierrot parallels the historical progression of the Commedia characters. The historical Pierrot outlived his ancestor and slowly gained his own personality, mixing the comic with the tragic. Like the Pierrot, Chaplin began as a comic and then grew into something much more mature. Exploring the lazzi and how they apply to both Chaplin and Harpo reveals that comic technique may be effectively used in both comedy and tragedy. Chaplin's use of a comic mask to produce a sympathetic character was an evolutionary step forward in the history of the theatre. The historical importance of both Charlie Chaplin and Harpo Marx cannot be denied. They are direct descendants of Commedia dell'Arte masks as well as demonstrations of the Commedia technique. CHAPTER II LITERATURE REVIEW

The large number of books available on Charlie Chaplin have seemingly saturated the field of study on the subject, but many elements of Chaplin's work have not been examined in any detail. The great majority of Chaplin studies are biographical, and Robert Payne's comparison of Chaplin with traditional clowns is typical of critical works before 1970. Apart from comparisons by theater critics during their lifetimes, there has been no study of Charlie Chaplin and Harpo Marx at the same time. Although most Marx Brothers' criticism mentions anarchy and Antonin Artaud, there has not been a detailed effort to apply Artaud's actual writings to the Marx Brothers' work. The vast majority of the work on the Marx Brothers is not scholarly, and countless biographies and criticisms deteriorate into simple recapitulation of Marx Brothers' dialogue. Nothing like this study has been previously attempted. This chapter will give a detailed discussion of the works examined in preparation for the study. It will begin by discussing the available literature on the Marx Brothers, and then it will evaluate the numerous items on Chaplin. The chapter will conclude with a brief discussion about additional material necessary to this research.

10 11 The Marx Brothers General and Critical Books The first work to be sought in any study of the Marx Brothers is Wes Gehring's The Marx Brothers: A Bio- Biblioaraphy (1987). This excellent volume is filled with biographical information, piecing together a detailed chronology of the Marx Brothers' lives and combining it with the best available survey of literature. This volume was indispensable during the early part of the study because it gave the researcher an overview and pinpointed hard-to-find volumes and references. After a resurgence of the team's popularity in the 1970s, the Marx Brothers have fallen from the literary spotlight, and few works have examined them in the last decade. Gehring, who also completed a bio-bibliography on Chaplin, occasionally makes comment about Chaplin and Harpo, but he does not go into any detail in comparing or contrasting them. He draws attention to Chaplin's relationship with his mother, suggesting that his boyhood idolization of her was like the Marx Brothers and their relationship with their mother, Minnie. This statement is most fully applied to Groucho. Gehring goes on to compare Groucho and Chaplin as old men, suggesting that both were unhappy and that neither was very pleasant company. Finally, in his commentary on articles, Gehring lists several works that provide short comparisons of Harpo and 12 Chaplin. None of the works, however, goes into any detail. Gehring makes a comment that such a comparison is very interesting but had become "standard" by the mid-1920s (161). It should be noted that all of these comparisons were by theater critics who compared their films and that there has been no extended study of Harpo and Chaplin. One of the most famous works about the Marx Brothers is Joe Adamson's Groucho. Harpo. Chico and Sometimes Zeppo: A History of the Marx Brothers and a Satire on the Rest of the World (1973). Adamson's book is part biography and part stand-up comedy routine. It reads like a best-selling novel and consists of photographs, interviews, fragments of script, anecdotal stories about production, and detailed plot synopses. Adamson also offers criticism, occasionally making profound statements, but often tempering them with overly detailed plot synopses. His is, however, the most detailed criticism to date. There are several strengths to Adamson's study. First, he does an excellent job of covering the basic biographical facts, and he mixes stories with his own entertaining commentary. This book is also filled with outstanding interviews and quotations from the team and directors, actors, and people who worked with the Marx Brothers. Of particular interest to this study is the section that asks whether or not the Marx Brothers were difficult to control. In a series of statements by directors, producers, writers 13 and other actors, Adamson presents every possible answer to the question, leaving the truth to the interpretation of the reader. Adamson discusses all of the Marx Brothers films but hardly touches on the later works, instead dismissing them with wit and sarcasm.* Adamson also mentions Chaplin and the Marx Brothers together on several occasions, but he does not attempt any kind of comparison between Harpo and Charlie. He does, however, identify a major difference between Chaplin and the Marxes. Commenting on the 1931 releases of City Lights and Monkey Business. Adamson explains, "Chaplin, like most film­ makers, appeals to our sympathies. Monkey Business appeals to our drives" (143). Later, he equates Chaplin with the rest of Hollywood by explaining, "When Chaplin or Keaton (or almost anybody) made features, they used stories as something to help them sustain audience interest. The Marx Brothers insisted on working against their story, as if it were some sort of referee" (166). Adamson should receive credit for the outstanding film documentary. The Marx Brothers in a Nutshell. The film is a collection of Marx Brothers scenes and routines along with interviews of writers, producers, and living relatives. * For instance, the three-page review of Room Service includes the Webster's Dictionary definition of a Marx Brothers movie. Adamson argues that Room Service was not intended for their personalities and, therefore, does not fit the definition. The film is dismissed entirely. Such eccentricities make it difficult to categorize Adamson's work as scholarly. 14 Although this documentary does not mention Chaplin and Harpo, it is an outstanding source for commentary on the Marx Brothers. Of special interest to this study is the interview with Morrie Ryskind, who describes writing for the team and then listening with amazement at the seeming immediacy of their performances. Two books accompany the Adamson book. First, Zimmerman and Goldblatt's The Marx Brothers at the Movies (1968) attempts to mix photographs, plot synopses, and criticism. The book is heavy on the plot synopsis, with only occasional comment that is relevant to the critic. The authors spend much too much time reprinting dialogue from the films, and this book often deteriorates into being a scrapbook rather than a critical book. The authors refer to the Marx Brothers films as being anarchical, and they believe that the best films were made under Thalberg. Allen Eyles' The Marx Brothers: Their World of Comedy (1969) concentrates more heavily on criticism and gives social commentary in order to set the Marx Brothers in proper historical context. Eyles' criticism is well-written and insightful, and it contributes to a better understanding of the films and their importance in American film history. He does not, however, contribute anything to this study's comparison between Harpo and Chaplin. The book is relevant to any study of the Marx Brothers, but it was only of marginal help for this study. 15 Martin Gardner's doctoral dissertation. The Marx Brothers: An Investigation of Their Films as Satirical Social Criticism (1970), also concentrates on the team in a historical perspective. Gardner, however, concentrates on how the Marx Brothers fit into American history. Although the work is interesting, it does little to further this study. The Anatomy of Cinematic Humor (1975) by Thomas H. Jordan contains a lengthy essay on the Marx Brothers in which he explains the appeal of the Marx Brothers as being a mix of verbal and visual wit. Jordan spends a great deal of time trying to describe the characters and explain their comedic style. Apart from discussing their style of humor, character analysis for any Marx Brothers' film seems inappropriate.

Illustrated History Most books about the Marx Brothers are biographical or anecdotal compilations containing countless pages full of plot synopses and snippets of dialogue. The invention of VCRs has greatly lessened the need for plot synopses and dialogue publication; however, most of the Marx Brothers scripts are not in print. Scripts survive of the George S. Kaufman stage plays (Animal Crackers) and three screenplays: A Night at the Opera, A Day at the Races, and a combined publication of Monkev Business/Duck Soup. In 1971, Richard 16 Anobile edited Why a Duck: Visual and Verbal Gems from the Marx Brothers Movies. Because of legal battles over the rights to Animal Crackers, a sequel concentrating on that film was published in 1974. The Marx Brothers (1950) by Kyle Crichton was published while all the brothers were alive, and it amounts to little more than a series of anecdotes probably read and approved by the family. It yields little in the way of criticism. Crichton obviously had direct access to the Marx family, and the copyright for the book is owned by the Marx Brothers. Like Maxine Marx's later work, Crichton's book credits Chico with being an integral part of the team. Writer Wes Gehring suggests Chico's import was lessened partially by the flood of material written by Groucho, whose opinion of Chico was quite poor. The Marx Brothers; A Pyramid Illustrated History of the Movies by William Wolf is typical of most publications about the Marx Brothers. This tiny volume is filled with pictures and tidbits, pausing occasionally for reviews or facts. In the same vein, two new collections of Marx Brothers material have recently appeared. In 1992, Allen Eyles published an excellent volume. The Complete Films of the Marx Brothers. His work is a collection of stills and plot summaries from all of the team's movies, and Eyles includes a detailed biographical essay. Also published in 1992, Ronald Bergan's The Life and Times of the Marx Brothers is less a work of 17 scholarship than of pop-culture, and it is filled with glossy reproductions of stills and publicity shots. Eyles filled an academic need by printing a complete listing of the Marx Brothers' movies, and Bergan added to the "pop- diefication" of the team. The publication of such works in the early 1990s indicates another revival of their popularity.

Biography Of Marx Brothers biographies and autobiographies, by far the most important is Harpo's autobiography, Harpo Speaks! Written with Rowland Barber, the book is 482 pages of anecdotal material and occasional comment. The majority of the book discusses Harpo's relationships, especially his long-lasting friendship with theatre critic Alexander Woollcott, whose name and character profile dominate the book. The relationship is quite interesting; the ill- tempered, snobbish, cultural Woollcott befriended the soft- spoken, uneducated Harpo, and, through a series of contrasts and opposites, the two complemented each other quite nicely. Woollcott was responsible for getting the Marx Brothers national attention: his articles made the team famous; his reviews extolled their virtues long before other critics began noticing them; Woollcott was responsible for arranging Harpo's tour of Russia. The book loses a bit of steam after 18 Woollcott's death, and the reader can see signs of a pure affection for his friend from Harpo's writing. Apart from being the Alexander Woollcott story, Harpo Speaks! offers great insight into the Marx Brothers' early stage careers. Harpo goes into great detail of the team's early organization, and he devotes most of two chapters to discussing his original personality in the team, a stock character named Patsy Brannigan. Harpo also chronicles how the team was put together, how many of their more famous gags were created, and how he learned to play on his own during the tour of Russia. Since Harpo had no education past the second grade, very little insight was given as to theatrical theory or Commedia tradition. Harpo Speaks! mentions Chaplin occasionally, but Harpo does not compare himself to Chaplin. He does, however, show a great respect for Chaplin and his work. Chico did not write an autobiography, and very few details are known about his private life. The only book to address Chico alone is Growing Up with Chico (1980), written by daughter Maxine. Ms. Marx refers to her father as the organizer of the team and the one who instigated their rise on Broadway and transition to the movies. She is not terribly fond of Groucho, but she tells several endearing stories about her relationship with Harpo. Chico's reputation as a philanderer and irresponsible gambler are well earned, but he is rarely credited with being more than 19 a supporting member of the team. Maxine Marx helps provide a new perspective on Chico's importance. Groucho wrote a large number of autobiographies and has been the subject of countless works. The most important of these works is his first autobiography, Groucho and Me, in which the comedian describes in detail how the act got started and gives his impressions of vaudeville and early film. Several of the stories slightly contradict Harpo's versions; however, for the most part, their stories coincide. Groucho and Harpo plainly differed on their opinion of Chico; Harpo admired his older brother and credits him with teaching Harpo the realities of life on the street, and Groucho admits that Chico talked him into playing Broadway instead of vaudeville (156). Groucho mentions Charlie Chaplin in passing several times, but his story of how the Marx Brothers met Chaplin is one of the most important statements any Marx Brother made about Chaplin. Groucho describes him as "shy," and he claims that the logical successor to Chaplin's style of comedy is Red Skelton. In short, Groucho concludes that Chaplin is "the greatest comic figure that the movies, or any other medium, ever spawned" (135). One of the most helpful works in this study is The Marx Brothers Scrapbook (1973). Written with Richard Anoible, the book is quite explicit, and Groucho expresses an uncensored opinion on everything from how much he hated 20 Chico to the list of actresses with whom he wished to have sex. Several passages are nearly unreadable, but several others are rich with information about the time period and other actors. In addition. The Marx Brothers Scrapbook is filled with pictures, reviews, articles, and interviews. Harpo's wife, Susan, shares an especially poignant interview, shedding insight into Harpo's gentle personality offstage. Jack Benny, Nat Perrin, Morrie Ryskind, and director Robert Florey all contribute interviews. The Groucho Phile (1976) is a similar book, but Groucho's language and sexual content are considerably toned down. This book was important because Groucho commented on the Marx Brothers as a stock company, of which he, Chico, Harpo, Zeppo, and Margaret Dumont were all members. Groucho Marx published several interviews and articles, but none of them are useful to this study. Groucho wrote a number of humor books before his first autobiography (Groucho and Me), including Beds (1930), Many Happy Returns: An Unofficial Guide to Your Income-Tax Problems (1942). The Groucho Letters: Letters to and From Groucho Marx (1967) was full of verbal witticisms, but it had little to do with this study. The Secret Word is Groucho (1976), written with Hector Arce, is a series of stories about the television show You Bet Your Life. Groucho granted several important interviews. "GROUCHO Looks at CHARLIE: The Maddest Marx Looks Back on the Day 21 When he ^Discovered' the Genius of Chaplin," originally published in the May, 1936 issue of Motion Picture, recounts the story of Chaplin and the Marx Brothers meeting when they first began their stage careers. Several versions of this meeting exist, and the Marx Brothers are said to have talked Chaplin into taking a film contract rather than staying with vaudeville and the Music Hall. Groucho also refers several times to Chaplin's personality, calling him shy and insecure, somehow unaware of his greatness: "I said then he was the greatest fellow on the stage. I know now there will never be anyone like him. He's in a class by himself, just as he has always been" (39). "Groucho Marx: Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man," an interview with Robert Altman and others, was published in Take One in 1970. Groucho commented on everything from politics to the interviewers' clothing, but the work is especially telling when he describes the team's original intentions. Unlike Chaplin, the Marx Brothers were never very interested in producing artistic statements or mixing pathos into their work. Groucho explains that the Marx Brothers were trying to be funny and that they paid very little attention to anything else. Groucho's son, Arthur, wrote two biographies of his father. Life With Groucho (1954) and Son of Groucho (1972). The former contained editorial comments supposedly by Groucho, but the document caused quite a bit of controversy 22 between father and son. The latter book was not quite as cheerful in tone, and Groucho's bitterness as an old man was emphasized. The two books are essential for an understanding of Groucho as a person, but they reveal very little that is new in the range of Marx Brothers studies. Groucho's son does not discuss Commedia. Two other Marx Brothers biographies were used in this study. Hello. I Must Be Going (1978), by Charlotte Chandler, was the result of a Playboy interview in the late 1970s. The book, which stretches over 500 pages, consists of Chandler's following Groucho about and writing down everything that he did and said. Several passages clarify the team's origins, but they add little to this study. A second book, Groucho (1979), by Hector Arce, is a detailed biography published just after Groucho's death. He goes into detail about the first meeting between Groucho and Chaplin, and he maintains that Chaplin admired Groucho as well, saying, "I wish I could talk like you" (155). This work is, of course, much more concerned with Groucho than the rest of the team. Mention should be made of a series of articles written by Harpo's friend, critic Alexander Woollcott, who reviewed the Marx Brothers both on stage and in film, and who occasionally wrote about Chaplin as well. He spotlighted Harpo in his review of I'll Say She Is. entitled, "Harpo Marx and Some Brothers," and he profiled Harpo throughout 23 his career. Several articles are interesting to this study. In "Portrait of a Man With Red Hair," Woollcott writes that Harpo's art, "like . . .Mr. Chaplin's, does know no frontier, and, in a deeper sense he will never be a in a strange land at all" (36). In "Mother of a Two-a-Day," Woollcott describes Harpo as a "Chaplinesque mute." Furthermore, the Marx Brothers are unique because the "infinite sadness" in the eyes of Chaplin would be "wasted utterly" on the Marx Brothers, because their lives, "especially their darkest days—have been full of a crazy laughter" (109). In "Charlie, As Ever Was" (1931), Woollcott describes Chaplin: "Primarily Chaplin is innocent courage, gallantry—the unquenchable in mankind—taking on flesh and walking this earth to give us heart" (312). Woollcott's articles are important to this study because they are among the most dynamic comparisons between Chaplin and Harpo.

Critical Essays Two critical essays are essential to this study. The first, Raymond Durgnat's "Four Against Alienation" appears in The Crazy Mirror; Hollywood Comedy and the American Image (1970). Durgnat calls the Marx Brothers "Surrealistic," and he briefly compares them with Artaud, Jarry, and Lewis Carroll. He finds their vulgarity like Chaplin without the pathos, and calls Harpo a "magic baby" who can eat anything 24 (154). Although it is short, this essay is well written and essential to any critical study of the Marx Brothers. Durgnat's book also includes a critical essay on Chaplin and all of the major film comedians. A second essay of great importance to this study is a section from Henry Jenkins' recent book. What Made Pistachio Nuts? Early Sound Comedy and the Vaudeville Aesthetic (1992). Jenkins theorizes that early sound comedians, including the Marx Brothers and Eddie Cantor, took vaudeville, the theater of the people, off the stage and put it on screen. He draws on the tradition of criticism that calls the Marx Brothers "anarchists" and applies that traditional criticism to what was happening in the rest of Hollywood at the same time. Jenkins focuses his book on Hollywood's attempt to "absorb" those things in vaudeville that were most compatible with the norms of society. The book is both well documented and quite humorous, and it makes outstanding reading. The section on the Marx Brothers is an excellent synopsis of past criticism. William Donnelly draws a similar conclusion to Jenkins in his 1972 article, "A Theory of the Comedy of the Marx Brothers." For Donnelly, the Marx Brothers are only labled as "surrealistic" because critics cannot seem to classify them in any other category. Donnelly gives an excellent overview of the criticisms from Artaud, Eyles, and Sarris, and he concludes that the Marx Brothers comedy was "molded 25 from the inferno of American vaudeville into a form of comedy that is unified and effective" (15). Andrew Sarris includes an essay on the Marx Brothers in his book. The American Cinema (1968). Sarris is critical of the structure of the team's films, and he is bothered by the extraneous harp, piano, and dance numbers. Sarris' conclusion is that "the Marx Brothers try to be mad in a sane world, whereas the Beatles try to be sane in a mad world" (246-248). The majority of the works about the Marx Brothers concentrate on placing the team in a historical perspective. Most critics call them "anarchists," and they loosely apply Artaud to the Marx Brothers' "revolt" against society. There has not, however, been a full examination of the Marx Brothers in the context of Artaud's actual theories. Although Harpo and Chaplin are sometimes mentioned in the same breath, no study links Harpo to Chaplin, and there has not been any kind of study that examines the comedic styles of the two comedians side-by-side. In addition, there have been few attempts to look at the Marx Brothers in the context of the Commedia dell'Arte. Most work written about the Marx Brothers is biographical; the few critical works concentrate on placing the Marx Brothers in a generic category labeled "anarchy." 26 Charlie Chaplin In contrast to Marx Brothers criticism, there has been an abundance of works on Charlie Chaplin, and it is very difficult to sort through them in order to determine what has and has not been covered. Most of the early biographies were, of course, published during Chaplin's lifetime, and, consequently, they are unable to evaluate him as a historical figure. Several important works come from France, where more emphasis is placed on the criticism of film than in the U.S. An inherent weakness exists in most Chaplin criticism; like the criticism of the Marx Brothers' films, most critics spend far too much time concentrating on plot synopses and rarely pay attention to themes or cinematic techniques. Recent criticism has been more thematic, and the most recent biography of Chaplin, David Robinspn's Chaplin: His Life and Art (1985), examines previously unseen documents. In short, Chaplin criticism is changing. Although there is are numerous works written about Chaplin, there is still plenty of room for scholarly study. This dissertation attempts to concentrate on works that could be applied to the subject at hand. An excellent listing of all of the scholarly works on Chaplin until 1983 can be found in Wes Gehring's bio-bibliography. 27 General/Critical Books Gehring's work must be listed first in the Chaplin study because it was instrumental in locating material and sorting through the countless references to Chaplin. The biographical section is informative but short; Gehring's work is important as an overview but not as a groundbreaking volume. The book contains a short section of "Chaplin on Chaplin," and Gehring divides his bibliography into subjects, such as "Chaplin's Working Style" and "Chaplin's World View." It is interesting to note that, although Gehring completed a bio-bibliography on the Marx Brothers, he does not spend any time comparing Chaplin with Harpo Marx. Harpo is mentioned only once in the text, when Gehring briefly compares Chaplin's walk with Harpo's gookie. Both must be considered individual lazzi that the performer tailored for his own act. In addition, Gehring's work is over ten years old, and several important studies of Chaplin have come out since its publication. It might be time for someone to update the material in Gehring's book, because a great deal of material is missing. Two books were indispensable. The Complete Films of Charlie Chaplin (1990), by Gerald McDonald, Michael Conway, and Mark Ricci, is a delightful collection of pictures, criticisms, and plot synopses, giving detailed discussion of every one of Chaplin's pictures. The work also includes excellent introductory essays by McDonald on early 28 Chaplin and Conway on Chaplin's body of work. Not only does it make wonderful trivia, this volume is quite helpful to the researcher in keeping the films in perspective. Two other works are similar; Timothy Lyons' Charles Chaplin; A Guide to References and Resources (1979) and Asplund's Chaplin's Films (1971). Dan Kamin's Charlie Chaplin's One Man Show (1984) is a unique Chaplin study, and it was essential to completing this study. Unlike the critics before him, Kamin identifies physical movements of Chaplin and makes a detailed study of how Chaplin uses his body in order to convey feeling. Kamin identifies several elements within Chaplin's comedy, including the use of transformation of one object to resemble another. Kamin lists eight transformations; object/object, setting/ setting, body/object, animated object, person/animal, body part/body part, action/action, and relationship/relationship. In addition, Kamin makes a vvww close examination of Chaplin's full-length films, and he analyzes how each fits into Chaplinjs progression. This book is an outstanding piece of work, and other Chaplin critics should pay close attention to both its style and its findings. A similar study of Harpo's physical gags and use of his physical body does not exist. Although several writers have compared Chaplin with the Pierrot, the most in-depth study of Chaplin in the context of Commedia lazzi was Raoul Sobel and David Francis' 29 Chaplin: Genesis of a Clown (1977). This work is both \y^ useful and confusing in its attempts to identify commedia lazzi used by Chaplin. Several of the lazzi are not applicable, and they do not fully explore all possibilities. It may be questioned, for instance, if Chaplin's feeling a woman's foot in The Floorwalker is a variation of the Harlequin's typical gesture of placing his leg over a woman's lap or touching part of her body. This gesture seems much more consistent with Harpo than with Chaplin, although Chaplin often orients himself toward women physically in highly suggestive ways. Sobel and Francis do, however, demonstrate several lazzi that may be applied to Chaplin, and their free use of photographs helps illustrate their point. Several statements may be questioned, including their claim that Chaplin did not know he was using the Commedia dell'Arte technique until after his career was over. Several statements in the Chaplin autobiographies contradict this idea. In addition, most of the lazzi mentioned by Sobel and Francis involve vulgar bodily gags, such as the use of the posterior as a device for comedy. They do not, however, go into a detailed listing of commedia lazzi, and they do not examine any shift in Chaplin's character from the Harlequin to the Pierrot. The Marx Brothers are not discussed in this book. 30 Biographical Mv Autobiography (1992), is highly readable and much more relevant to Chaplin study. Although Chaplin does not go into detail about some unpleasant events (he hardly mentions his marriages), he reveals a great deal about his working techniques. Chaplin occasionally takes time out from recounting the facts about his life and theorizes on film and film theory. He admits to not understanding Stanislavsky's "Method," and he describes a system of directing that sounds very much like Meyerhold. His description of work techniques, however, is quite important. Chaplin's other autobiographical works include My Trip Abroad (1922), A Comedian Sees the World (1933), (both travel books which bear little relevance to this study) and My Life in Pictures (1974). The best and fullest Chaplin biography is David Robinson's Chaplin: His Life and Art (1985), providing over 700 pages of meticulously documented discussion. Robinson peppers his writing with criticism, and his style is both readable and intelligent. This biography is superior to those before it for several reasons; Chaplin died in 1977, and Robinson was able to examine the complete life as opposed to the life up to a point; Robinson had all of the preceding biographies as points of reference; Robinson was allowed to look at many documents other biographers never saw, including the FBI file examining Chaplin and his 31 political beliefs (Robinson concludes that much of the FBI's information was erroneous, thus condemning the FBI and not Chaplin). Among the book's most interesting passages are those identifying Chaplin's desire to have a dream scene open Citv Lights, and his life-long passion to play Napoleon. The first major biography of Chaplin is Theodore Huff's Charlie Chaplin (1951), published while Chaplin was still working. Gehring calls it a "foundation" for later studies, and the work sets the standard for the method of Chaplin criticism. Huff spends most of his time talking about films, delving into detailed plot synopses rather than attempting to criticize. Since Chaplin was both alive and working at the time of publication. Huff was limited in what his research could find for him. He was, however, successful in producing a good volume on the known facts of Chaplin's life, and his work is an important step in Chaplin criticism. John McCabe's Charlie Chaplin (1978) is, essentially, an update of Huff's biography. McCabe takes the same basic approach as Huff, and he spends a great amount of time on plot synopsis. He does, however, make some interesting critical statements and is most especially concerned with the development of pathos in Chaplin's work. For McCabe, the use of happy endings in such films as The Vagabond and The Gold Rush negates the statement Chaplin tried to make. 32 McCabe briefly mentions dream imagery, and he identifies several works in which dreams play a part. McCabe's only mention of the Marx Brothers is a footnote telling the reader that the team stole their mirror scene in Duck Soup from Chaplin's The Floorwalker. There are several books that take a biographical approach but which become almost metaphysical in execution. The most important is Robert Payne's The Great God Pan (1952), a discussion of Chaplin in the context of Puck, Pan, and the Commedia Pierrot. Payne's work is stylized and exaggerated, painting Chaplin and his historical tradition in broad strokes: and he does not back up his ideas with documentation. Payne's thesis is quite interesting; Chaplin comes from a long line of clowns that may be identified with the Pierrot and other characters like him, and Chaplin took portions of all of these characters in order to create the Little Tramp. The book itself is somewhat confusing in its conclusions, and the flowery language is distracting. No bibliography exists. In addition, Payne's ideas are in desperate need of factual support. Nevertheless, Payne's work is well-known, and although its ideas are quite interesting and certainly relevant to this dissertation, the work is useless apart from being one writer's viewpoint. Essayist Graham Petrie calls this book "a disgrace" and "a sad comment on the state 33 of Chaplin criticism that it remains in print as one of the standard accounts of his life and art" (123).

Historical/Critical The Comic Mind; Comedy and the Movies (1973) by Gerald Mast concentrates on themes in Chaplin's work. Most important to this dissertation is Mast's occasional discussion of dreams as a minor theme. Mast provides an interesting perspective, and he theorizes that several of Chaplin's happily ending films are, essentially, dream films because they provide an unrealistic ending. Mast also spends a lot of time discussing food and food images, both of which are relevant to the Commedia dell'Arte. Mast's work is well designed and quite interesting, and he is unique in his disussion of major themes in Chaplin's films. A study of Mast was essential to this work, and his discussion of Chaplin's themes aided in a compilation of Commedia-style lazzi and actions. Mast, furthermore, does not use the broad strokes painted by Robert Payne and others who drew similarities between Chaplin and other clowns. Mast evaluates Chaplin's films quite well, and he provides researchers with an excellent source. In A .qhort History of the Movies (1981), Mast includes an essay on Chaplin and the development of character. Mast points to the short films with Essanay and Mutual as being a workshop where Chaplin abandoned the Mack Sennett/Keystone 34 approach of stringing together multiple gags without paying attention to character development. Mast credits Chaplin with discovering how to add to the character's personality by using actions consistent with the character. The Silent Clowns (1975) by Walter Kerr is a pictorial and critical discussion of Chaplin, Keaton, Laurel and Hardy, Harold Lloyd and Harry Langdon. The chapters on Chaplin are rich in detail, but they are focused on a difficult-to-defend thesis; Chaplin as a person did not belong to anything, and, therefore, Charlie the Tramp was unable to belong to anything either. It is through this idea that Kerr explains Charlie's remarkable ability to change jobs and even dispositions from one silent film to another without actually changing his personality. Kerr believes that City Lights was the peak of Chaplin's career, and he describes it as being a culmination of all that Chaplin had used in his previous films. Kerr is easy to read and entertaining, but he has difficulty defending his broad thesis. He does, however, lend a great deal of insight to Chaplin study, and the importance of his work should not be overlooked. In addition to his essay about the Marx Brothers, Raymond Durgnat writes a great deal about Chaplin in The Crazy Mirror. Chapter 11, "Aimless Odysseus of the Alleyways," commends Chaplin's silent films as "the only works of art ever created which can spin the spectator from 35 laughter to tears and back in a few seconds" (78). Durgnat only sweeps through a few ideas, but then he gives an excellent overview of Chaplin's importance. Durgnat stresses that the Little Tramp should not be idolized because turning him into a "Saint Chaplin" misses half of Chaplin's humor. Chaplin is, instead, a combination of the devilish and the saintly. Donald McCaffrey published an outstanding volume of essays on Chaplin with his Focus on Chaplin (1971). This volume is made up of extracts from numerous works, and McCaffrey does an excellent job of organizing and centering the essays around themes. He publishes several essays by Chaplin that reveal how Chaplin thought. Paramount among these essays is "A Rejection of Talkies," originally published as "Pantomime and Comedy" (1931). Chaplin also makes interesting commentary on the development of the Tramp in an essay originally titled, "How I Made My Success" (1915). Discrepancy occurs over the authorship of several of Chaplin's early articles; however, they detail Chaplin's theories and are an indispensable source of information. A superb explanation of the work habits of Chaplin may be found in Louis Delluc's Charlie Chaplin (1922). In it, Delluc reprints articles by Chaplin, Max Linder, and Chaplin's secretary, Elise Codd. Codd's description of Chaplin as a director is particuarly interesting: She repeats the most important direction, "Don't act." Delluc's 36 discussion of the films is not as intersting as his chapter entitled "The Method." The most helpful documentary on Chaplin and his work methods is Kevin Brownlow and David Gill's The Unknown Chaplin (1983). Like most other directors of the time, Chaplin destroyed his film rushes after the completion of the film; however, the few rushes that remain are instrumental in understanding Chaplin's vision and his methodology as a director. In this BBC documentary, Brownlow and Gill analyze the rushes and include interviews with Virginia Cherrill, Jackie Coogan, and other actors who worked with Chaplin. The documentary is especially interesting to this study because it provides access to pieces of film that have never before been available.

Chaplin and Commedia David Madden combines elements of Chaplin and the Commedia dell'Arte in his study. Harlequin's Stick— Charlie's Cane (1975). This book pairs pictures of Commedia '^ dell'Arte characters with early film comedians, including Chaplin, Fields, Eddie Cantor and Harry Langdon. The weaknesses of Madden's work far outweigh any scholarly significance. The text gives way to the pictures, much like Sobel and Francis' study of a similar subject. Madden fails to cite sources, and most of the ideas stated in the book unsupported are opinion. Madden also fails to study 37 Chaplin's use of lazzi or make a comprehensive comparison of Chaplin with other film comedians. The strength of his argument, in fact, is in the pictures alone; Madden's work has the appearance of a coffee table book rather than a serious study. Books about the Commedia dell'Arte, however, all fall into a similar category, and a great number of them are highly unsatisfying. Uraneff's statement about the Commedia evolving into American vaudeville and the movie screen comes from a magazine article, and his comments are largely unexplored. There are, however, several decent studies of the Commedia.

Commedia dell'Arte A primary source for this study was John Rudlin's excellent work, Commedia dell'Arte; An Actor's Handbook (1994). Rudlin spends time describing the characters in detail and giving a partial background. He also lists predominant character traits and descriptions, and he occasionally lists lazzi. Rudlin's book has a limited bibliography, and he sometimes makes far-reaching statements. One of the weaknesses of Rudlin's book is his tendency to tell actors how to hold their bodies in order to play a particular character. Such suggestions are rarely based on documents, but he presents the suggestions as fact. 38 This book also provides "hands-on" material for actors hoping to play Commedia-type roles. Winifred Smith's book. The Commedia dell'Arte (1912), is accepted as a standard text on the subject, but it is difficult to read and sometimes missing relevant information. Smith makes assumptions as to the reader's knowledge of the characters, and she fills the book with Commedia scenarios. A similar problem is encountered with Allardyce Nicoll's book. The World of the Harlequin (1963). Nicoll's work contains a short bibliography, but his well- developed descriptions of the Commedia characters are based mostly on the scenarios collected by Scala. He is especially helpful in his description of the Pierrot. Nicoll is also opinionated; he writes Charlie Chaplin out of the Commedia tradition in one swift but sincerely argued passage. Writers like David Madden argue against Nicoll's conclusions. Maurice Sand's Harlequinade (1915) is the most famous and most often cited book on the Commedia dell'Arte. It is also the among the most difficult to read, and it contains no citations of sources. Sand's greatest contributions to Commedia study are his full-color sketches of the Commedia characters. Several researchers have suggested that Sand's sketches were erroneous and, therefore, corrupted the standard opinion of how the characters should appear. Sand alternates between scholarly study and a dramatization of 39 the characters' lives. In the chapter on Harlequin, the reader is bombarded first with a monologue by the character, then with historical commentary by Sand, and then with segments and dialogue from a scenario. The result is a difficult-to-read and often unintelligible blend of fact and fiction. The work is, nevertheless, an exhaustive exploration of the world of the Commedia. Several sources in addition provide good description of the Harlequin. Cyril Beaumont's The History of Harlequin (1926) is a mix of pictures, dialogue, and commentary. K. M. Lea's Italian Popular Comedy (1934) describes Commedia characters in a chapter titled "The Masks." Thelma Niklaus' Harlequin or The Rise and Fall of a Bergamask Rogue (1956) is an outstanding history of the Harlequin character. Traits of the Pierrot are covered in numerous sources. Studies of the Pierrot are more recent than those on the Harlequin, and it may be argued that Chaplin's manifestation of the character helped the Pierrot to become one of the dominant figures of the twentieth century. Martin Green and John Swan's The Triumph of the Pierrot (1986) is the most detailed of the studies. Green and Swan touch on several of the subjects covered in this study, including Chaplin as a Pierrot, and they make a brief statement about the Marx Brothers being a Commedia dell'Arte team. Green and Swan do not limit themselves to vaudeville or to the screen, and they attempt to trace the Pierrot's influence through all of 40 the arts. Of particular interest to this study is Chapter V, "Chaplin, Caligari, Hollywood, and Harlequin," in which the authors theorize that Chaplin has a Harlequinesque set of tricks but a Pierrot's personality and heart. Robert Storey's Pierrot; A Critical History (1978) pieces together the historical progression of the character and his transformation from a minor figure in the Commedia dell'Arte to a dominant figure of the twentieth century. Storey's writing is particularly dry, and his language is often quite overblown. He does, however, provide a detailed history of the character, and he gives an impressive bibliography. Kay Dick's Pierrot (1960) makes the most interesting reading of the books on Pierrot, but it takes, perhaps, the least scholarly approach. Dick's work is a conglomeration of fact and fiction, and she draws a character profile based on existing documents much like a playwright would gather traits in order to form a character for a play. Dick does not cite sources within the work, but she lists several pages full of works on the subject. In addition, several sources list Commedia lazzi. The most obvious listing is Mel Gordon's Lazzi (1983), a tiny volume filled with various lazzi and their descriptions. A similar approach is taken by Bari Rolfe in Commedia dell'Arte; A Scene Study Book (1977). Gordon's volume is the more interesting of the two, and it contains the most 41 complete list. Rolfe's work contains not only lazzi but an extensive list of Commedia scenes and a practical description of each character.

Meyerhold The most important work pertaining to the study of Meyerhold was completed by Edward Braun. Meyerhold on Theatre (1969) is a compilation of work by Meyerhold, edited with commentary by Braun. The later work. The Theater of Meyerhold: Revolution on the Modern Stage (1986), is a biographical look at the director with commentary and analysis. Braun later published articles dealing with the death of Meyerhold in one of Stalin's concentration camps. The dissolving of the Soviet Union aided Meyerholdian study, but a great deal of research is left to be done. Paul Schmidt's collection of essays, Meyerhold at Work (1980) is an outstanding aid to the study of Meyerhold's directorial technique. Schmidt translates interviews and essays concerning Meyerhold and his relationship to actors. Schmidt's collection is especially helpful in comparing Meyerhold's technique to that of Chaplin. Meyerhold's life and work is an especially interesting topic for graduate work. Two theses from the University of Oregon address his style; Powell's The Major Aspects of the Directorial Philosophy of V. E. Meyerhold (1956) and Flom's Vsevolod Meyerhold: His Theory of Biomechanics (1967). 42 Cecile Brahy's graduate thesis at the University of Southwestern Louisiana puts Meyerhold in perspective with other directors; Acting Methods and Training Techniques in the Twentieth Century as Espoused by Four Classic Artists: Stanislavsky. Meverhold. M. Chekov and Grotowski (1983). Two other graduate documents were later published: Katherine Bliss Eaton's The Theater of Meyerhold and Brecht (1985), and James Symons' Meyerhold's Theatre of the Grotesgue; The Post Revolutionary Productions, 1920-1932 (1971). Robert Leach's Vsevolod Meyerhold (1989) and Hoover's The Art of Concious Theatre (1974) both demonstrate Meyerholdian theory and are rich with illustrations and photographs.

Artaud The commentaries on Antonin Artaud are often as confusing as Artaud's own writing. His principlal work is The Theater and its Double (1958), and the most interesting of the commentaries is Mark Rose's tiny work. The Actor and His Double; Mime and Movement for the Theater of Cruelty (1986). Rose makes the first major attempt to put all of Artaud's concepts together, and he lists traits drawn from the writings of Artaud that may be applied directly to both Chaplin and Harpo Marx. The volume is compact and sometimes too brief. The most famous commentary on Artaud is Martin 43 Esslin's Artaud (1976), a densely packed but readable discussion of his life and works. Application of Artaud's theories is an open field of study.

Summary This dissertation will concentrate on a comparison of Charlie Chaplin and Harpo Marx, and it will specifically look at the two comedians in the context of Artaudian Cruelty, Meyerholdian Biomechanics, and Commedia dell'Arte lazzi. The works discussed in this chapter were major sources of information for this study. A great many other works were examined, but most of them have little to do with the subject at hand. There is no similar study of this kind. CHAPTER III ORIGINS; CHAPLIN, HARPO, AND THE COMMEDIA HARLEQUIN

The next two chapters will explore the connection between Charlie Chaplin and Harpo Marx and their ancestors in the Commedia dell'Arte. This chapter will examine the characteristics of the Harlequin, and then it will compare them to the traits of Harpo and Chaplin. The chapter will also draw parallels between the Commedia dell'Arte and the Marx Brothers' work as a team. It will be demonstrated that both Harpo Marx and Charlie Chaplin display characteristics of the Harlequin, but while Harpo never used another mask, Chaplin continued experimentation throughout his career. In order to understand the remarkable similarities between Chaplin and Harpo, one must first identify their similarities with their Commedia ancestors. The etymology of the two characters is complex, but they are descended from the same "family" and demonstrate the similar evolutions of comedic style within the Commedia dell'Arte. In addition, a list of traits may be identified as being specific to the commedia Harlequin; the use of props in x / defining character; the unique manipulation of the body in defining character; elements of childishness; the use of V acrobatics; the tendency to dress as a female and to masquerade; a voracious sexual appetite; an inability to

44 45 concentrate; and an identification with the common man because of hunger and poverty.

Harlequin Origins The origin of the Harlequin (or Arlequino) is quite difficult to trace. Nicoll struggles to separate the Harlequin from other servant characters in his examination of early Commedia documents. He suggests that much of the confusion occurs because there was actually a character named "Zanni" who, when lumped together with other characters of his kind, might be called a "zanni," or servant character. Nicoll concludes that the Harlequin often appeared alongside a character named "Zanni," but admits that the "whole question becomes, of course, hopelessly complicated by the bewildering complexity of names and qualities assumed by these serving-men" (67). To add to the complexity, the Harlequin character often goes by different names, and there is little pattern in his various identities. Suffice it to say that Harlequin may be classed with a series of servants who adopt the name "zannies" and who are variations on the same, disruptive personality. Because of his ability to change and adapt to new audiences. Harlequin's is the name most often associated with the zanni character. The variations on the Harlequin are not important to this study; however, it must be remembered that 46 the variations do exist, and the character adapts to and changes with the passage of time. Smith suggests that the Harlequin character got his name from the devil himself, being, as he is, a prince of mischief whose greatest pleasure is reeking havoc on the civilized world. Lea links the Harlequin to a hellish witch (74-45), and Schwartz traces his costume (and makes the assumption that the personality should be similarly traced) back to the Roman Atellane farces (20). Sand goes so far as to suggest a link between Harlequin and the Greek satyr (59). Since such an array of theories exists, it is safe to assume that the Harlequin figure is a familiar archetypal image. It is only natural that the figure should still be alive in the theater today.

Personality The traits of the Harlequin may be applied to both Harpo and early Chaplin. Making a list of these traits, however, is not as easy as it might seem. Commedia critics often assume that their readers already know the traits, and therefore make sweeping descriptive statements without documentation. Schwartz, Lea, and others often quote the scenarios constructed by Flamino Scala, attempting to display Harlequin's personality through dialogue. Since the Commedia dell'Arte was a theater of improvisation, little may be construed from the dialogue, and the scenarios seem 47 important as historical documents and little else. The first trait of the Harlequin, then, is the possession of a consistent character that, despite evolution, kept many of the same physical and verbal traits throughout his existence. An examination of the scenario does little good to this study, for, as Nicoll explains, Commedia was not based on strong plots and dialogue; What the commedia dell'arte discovered was something entirely different. Here, a single person, Pantalone let us say, retains his name, costume and essential basic characteristics in successive plays, but he is made to appear in diverse circumstances and in diverse relationships with his companions. (21) Like Charlie in the early Chaplin silent movies, the commedia character retained a personality and reacted to a variety of circumstances and situations. The personality remained paramount. In his 1994 study, Commedia dell'Arte: An Actor's Handbook. John Rudlin attempted to list the physical and personality traits of the Harlequin. Rudlin's bibliography is brief; he relies heavily on Nicoll, Sand, Ducharte and Smith, and none of the works are contemporary. Rudlin's problems in this study are valid, no definitive study exits on the Commedia characters and their traits. Rudlin completes his study as a guide to the actor, supplying three to four page discussions of the characters and then attempting to apply them to twentieth century theaters like the San Francisco Mime Troupe. Rudlin and other Commedia 48 scholars forever encounter difficulty sorting through rough scenarios, often indistinguishable dialogue, and poorly documented accounts of performances. Rudlin's work, however, is quite useful to this study in that it provides a good starting point in an examination of both the Harlequin and the Pierrot. He lists a series of physical and psychological attributes of the two characters in order to give actors a model for future productions. These attributes are very helpful in linking Harpo and Chaplin to the Harlequin.

Costumes, Props, and Posture First, in discussing the patches in Harlequin's costume, Rudlin claims that the patches are representative of his personality and that the character is a "shape- shifter" because "he frequently adopts disguises and cross- dresses without demur." The Harlequin carries a stick or bat, often discovering and defining his character by his use of the prop. Rudlin goes so far as to describe the Harlequin's stance, a "continuously lowered" position compensated by energy from the upper torso. He does not document the source description, but it must be assumed that Rudlin drew these characteristics from drawings and paintings of the Harlequin in action. He also fails to document his description of the Harlequin's "balletic" walk. 49 Which sounds similar to the walk Chaplin developed for Charlie: Begin with the left foot forward with the ball of the right coming to meet the heel of the left after which the left slides forward. The right foot then steps forward into the opposite starting position. (77) Rudlin continues listing traits by describing the Harlequin as an acrobat whose brain cannot keep up with his agile body. He is a simpleton who "never contemplated the consequences of an action or learned from the experience of it" (79). He has a sexual appetite that may be refocused at any moment. (Rudlin actually mentions Harpo as an example of this trait.) Finally, Rudlin describes the Harlequin as either speaking continuously or keeping silent (77-79). Although this trait will not be further discussed, it justifies looking at both Harpo and Chaplin in the context of the Commedia. Nicoll argues that Chaplin cannot be a Commedia character partly because he is silent. If the Harlequin alternated between silence and sound, however, then the silence of Chaplin and Harpo may be consistent with the character.

General Traits of the Harlequin In addition to Rudlin's traits, commedia studies cite a few more specific traits. Nicoll describes the Harlequin as often frantically entering the stage with unbent legs, manipulating the length of his body, and using his cap and 50 stick as extensions of his personality (71). He also points out that the Harlequin is rarely angered for long because of his inability to think about more than one thing at a time. Lea comments that "wit is the exception, stupidity is the rule" for the early Harlequin, but the character slowly developed a more defined personality and nature (78). Nicoll agrees that the character did change, but "fundamentally Harlequin remained the same from the start of his career to the end, and he is recognizable in all his guises" (70). Various contradictions exist between Maurice Sand and later Commedia studies. Sand argues that in the seventeenth century. Harlequin "became witty, astute, an utterer of quips and something of a philosopher" (65). He lists actors and the innovations they brought to the role, but his work is best remembered for the full color illustrations of Commedia characters that often dominate modern costuming approaches to Commedia figures. Most of Sand's work is a dialogue between the Harlequin and the reader, and although entertaining, it is not a very good source of information for modern scholars. Ducharte helps clarify the apparent discrepancies. Quoting the memoirs of Marmontel, Ducharte describes the 51

final development of the Harlequin as a complex combination of opposites: His character is a mixture of ignorance, naivete, wit, stupidity and grace. He is both a rake and an overgrown boy. . . His acting is patterned on the lithe, agile grace of a young cat, and he has a superficial coarseness which makes his performance all the more amusing. He plays the role of a faithful valet, always patient, credulous, and greedy. . . He is hurt and comforted in turn as easily as a child, and his grief is almost as comic as his joy. (13 2) In The Theatre of Yesterday. Today and Tomorrow. James Fisher adds an important trait to the study of the Harlequin, citing his symbolic representation of common men. Fisher explains that Harlequin "embodies their rebelliousness against authority and power and their will to survive in the face of adversity" (4). Fisher also notes an important trait overlooked by other scholars; as a representative of the common man. Harlequin is always hungry.

Chaplin, Harpo, and the Harlequin Both Chaplin and Harpo demonstrate the qualities identified as being part of Harlequin's personality. It is interesting to note, however, that Chaplin outgrew many of the more devilish traits when he moved from short silent films into full-length features. He is especially Harlequinesque during the Keystone years, and Chaplin slowly 52 abandoned many of the Harlequin's traits as he further developed his character. In contrast, Harpo stays forever in the Harlequin tradition.

Transvestite Lazzo First, Rudlin suggests that the Harlequin is a masquerader, willing to put on disguises and even going so far as to dress like a woman. Mel Gordon agrees with Rudlin, and he names female impersonation as one of the most frequently-used lazzi in the Commedia. Both Chaplin and Harpo display this tendency, but Chaplin abandoned it after his "workshopping" period. Dressing in women's clothing is a lazzo that Harpo retained for his entire career.

Chaplin Chaplin dressed as a woman three times, once for Essanay and twice for Keystone. In A Busy Day (1914), Chaplin actually plays a woman who catches "husband" Mack Swain with a lover. In The Masquerader (1914), Chaplin plays an actor whom we first see without costume or makeup. He actually puts on the tramp costume in front of the camera, and he undergoes a physical transformation to fit the character. His dressing on film establishes the moustache and makeup as a mask, and it lets the audience know the actor's secret identity. Later in the film, Charlie fools the other actors by dressing as a woman, and 53 he goes through an elaborate masquerade to get the best of them. In the 1915 Essanay film, A Woman. Chaplin again dresses as a female, this time in order to get downstairs and past an angry enemy. All three cases are fine examples of "the transvestite lazzo." It should be noted that Chaplin did not dress as a woman again after 1916. Unlike the Marx Brothers, Chaplin allowed other actors in his films to use the transvestite lazzo. Henry Bergman, who started working with Chaplin during the Mutual films (he began with The Pawnshop') and stayed with Chaplin through The Great Dictator. often dressed as a woman. Chaplin did not attempt to make Bergman into a man in a woman's dress; Bergman was constantly cast as ugly wives and angry old women. Bergman plays the astoundingly unattractive wife of antagonist Eric Campbell in The Rink. He is a peasant woman in The Immigrant and an old lady who cries while hearing Edna Purviance sing in A Dog's Life. Bergman was a bachelor in real life who was so devoted to Chaplin that Chaplin claimed "he'd have kissed me if I'd let him" (Kerr, 356). Another important instance of the transvestite lazzo is Edna Purviance's dressing like a boy in Behind the Screen. After discovering that Purvaince is actually a woman, Charlie kisses her just as Eric Campbell enters the scene and declares, "Oh, naughty boys!" Biographer David Robinson calls the scene the most "overt representation of a homosexual situation anywhere in the Anglo-Saxon commercial 54 cinema before the 1950s" (177). Purviance and Bergman participate in transvestite lazzo long after Chaplin abandoned making them part of his own act. However, a case may be made for Chaplin's continuing to display feminine qualities. For instance, in The Kid. Charlie serves as both a mother and father figure to Jackie Coogan. He is forced into the "motherly" duties of feeding a child and changing its diapers while trying to keep his masculine dignity. Faced with these challenges, Charlie creates a masculine contraption to feed Jackie his bottle, and goes about the house in an androgynous manner, acting as both a man and a woman. This androgyny has a purpose, however, being designed to gain audience sympathy for Charlie and build the relationship between him and the child. Chaplin thus extends the transvestite lazzo into a manifestation of the Pierrot's supreme characteristic: the ability to feel. This extension is a part of Chaplin's transformation from the trickster Harlequin into a more tragicomic figure. Chaplin occasionally adopts feminine mannerisms to ingratiate himself; for example, in City Lights he tries to look sweet and harmless to win friendship from a boxing opponent. The action backfires, and Charlie's mannerisms activate his opponent's homophobia. 55 Harpo Applying the transvestite lazzo to Harpo is tricky; although he never actually masqueraded as a woman the way that Chaplin did, a feminine quality exists in his performance, and Harpo dresses in women's clothing or makes effeminate gestures in nearly every Marx Brothers' film. He actually steals and wears a woman's high heeled shoe during a card game in Animal Crackers. He poses like a naked woman when stripped of his coat in Horsefeathers. He climbs inside a woman's bustle in Monkey Business, and he dresses as a gypsy woman in A Night at the Opera. In addition, it may be argued that Harpo wore a woman's wig in all of his films. His display of this Harlequinesque virtue is not as obvious or as blatant as Chaplin's; however, Harpo used variations on the transvestite lazzo throughout his career. It was never used to gain audience sympathy or develop character. Instead, Harpo's feminine side was strictly a comedic element and a part of his "trickster" personality. It may be noted that one of Harpo's first "acts" involved wearing a dress. In his autobiography, Harpo recounts having dressed as a trollop to invade his home. Most of the family was fooled, and his grandfather even gave him a pinch and asked Harpo to sit on his knee. This "transvestite act" helped give Harpo the confidence to go on stage. "It was a performance I was proud of. It made me the family character" (64). 56 Props Chaplin Rudlin's second characteristic for the Harlequin is the stick or bat that the figure carries. Chaplin made a cane part of his costume and kept it until he dropped the tramp makeup after The Great Dictator. Even when temporarily discarding the cane and the Charlie character, Chaplin often used a similar object. He carried a golf club through much of The Idle Class, a gun in Shoulder Arms. and an umbrella in Monsieur Verdoux. He even gave the caveman a cane in His Prehistoric Past. One exception to Chaplin's use of the cane is when he completely abandoned it in The Pilgrim. He kept the tramp makeup, however, and created a new figure—a criminal on the run dressed as a clergyman. Despite the absence of the cane in this film, the audience feels as if the cane is missing simply because Charlie is in disguise, frantically trying to shed all aspects of his former identity. In this case, the makeup and mask take the place of the cane, identifying him as a character similar to the familiar Charlie. The cane and the derby are extensions of Charlie's personality, fulfilling one of the Harlequin's traits as identified by Nicoll. A gentle and caring Charlie uses the cane to try and save a drowning man in City Lights, and a violent and foul-tempered Charlie uses it as a weapon in the short film, A Night Out. He also uses it to trip skaters in 57 The Rink and, at one point, uses it as a key to "wind up" Eric Campbell like a toy before pounding it into his stomach. In the early films the cane is a Harlequinesque slapstick; later, it actually defines Charlie as a genteel man who wishes to learn grace and sophistication. He plays opposites in appearance and behavior. The audience expects someone dressed as a tramp to be quite unsophisticated and rugged. Chaplin uses the cane and the derby, however, to create actions that contradict his appearance. Despite being dressed in rags, he insists on carrying a gentleman's cane and acting like a member of the upper crust. A similar objective is achieved through the use of the derby. Charlie the Tramp keeps his dignity in all situations, actually tipping his hat to both ladies and gentlemen and, on several occasions, to inanimate objects and animals. It is through the use of this hat and cane that Chaplin achieves some of his greatest moments of humor; he tries to fit into the upper crust but gives away his lack of sophistication by mishandling other objects and relationships. His hat and cane reveal the inner desire to be a part of the upper class and to fit into a society where he obviously does not belong. For this reason, Chaplin found it necessary to keep his Harlequinesque props, even after leaving the studios and developing the Pierrot character in his feature films. 58 Harpo Harpo uses props for a different end than Chaplin. Instead of carrying a cane, Harpo carries a bicycle horn, often mounted on the end of a cane or a large stick. The horn becomes an instigator of lazzi, and it serves as one of Harpo's most effective methods of communication. He also uses it as a weapon (The Cocoanuts and Monkey Business') and a band leader's baton (Duck Soup'). In a variation on the horn-cane, Harpo often stuffed a collection of horns into a belt. These horns were the sources of countless lazzi, one of the most common of which involved Harpo's bumping into passers-by in order to make a honking sound. The horns will be further discussed in a later chapter exploring Harpo's lazzo of communicating without sound. Like the canes, Harpo's top hat was not used in the same manner as Chaplin's derby. While Chaplin was able to define character and create contradictions with the derby, Harpo rarely used his hat for more than decoration, and the hat was most frequently a tool for lazzi. In the lemonade scene in Duck Soup. Harpo and Chico drive Edgar Kennedy to the point of insanity with a hat-switching routine. (It has been suggested that the hat routine, like the mirror routine, was the brainchild of Leo McCrary and came from his work with Laurel and Hardy.) It was used as a bowl to catch milk falling from the "udders" of his glove in a publicity short filmed for ffnrsefeathers. Harpo occasionally tips his hat 59 to passing women, but it signals the beginning of a chase- game rather than adding to character development. Finally, he is inconsistent with the use of his hat. It remains a part of the costume from Cocoanuts to Love Happy, but it is never a consistent extension of his character. Instead, the hat is used as a prop for lazzi whenever it is convenient.

Body Positioning Chaplin Rudlin's ideas on the positioning of the Harlequin's body cannot be proven or disproven. Nevertheless, both Chaplin and Harpo use body positioning in the portrayal of their characters, although Chaplin uses many more techniques than Harpo, and he concentrates more effort on body positioning for the conveyance of emotion. Dan Kamin devoted an entire book on Chaplin's use of the body, and there is little need to add anything to Kamin's findings. Kamin describes Chaplin's energy during the Keystone and Essanay years as being focused in the positioning of the head and trunk. Kamin writes, "The combination of a small, helpless, open presentation of his trunk invites both sympathy and trust, which, taken together with the head movements further induces vicarious participation in Charlie's adventures" (12). This description may be compared with Rudlin's formula for the Harlequin, who keeps his head in a "lowered position" and compensates it with 60 "energy from the upper torso." Kamin describes Chaplin's head positioning as an indication of "self containment" by keeping it "directly and squarely above the trunk" (8). During his most Harlequinesque period, however, Chaplin forced the head in front of the torso. Mimicking some of Sterling's gestures, Chaplin, during this early period, occasionally thrusts his head forward to indicate aggression, strikingly altering his character. He soon abandons the head- far-forward position, and in fact increases the use of its opposite: the head pulled backward over the trunk, to indicate prideful elegance, in comic contrast to his seedy appearance. . . (8) This body positioning adds to the effect Chaplin achieved by the use of his derby and cane. Kamin refers to a distinct difference in Chaplin's body positioning between his early and later films. Kamin's use of adjectives is also important. His trunk invites "sympathy and trust." Pulling back the head indicates "prideful elegance" and allows laughter and sympathy with the Charlie the Tramp. Obviously, Chaplin was unafraid to explore techniques and body positioning, but he maintained a Harlequinesque focus of energy, even after abandoning many of the Harlequin's other traits.

Harpo In contrast, Harpo used body positioning similar to that used during Chaplin's early period. After discovery of 61 this Harlequinesque positioning, Harpo did not deviate from his use of it, and he did not experiment the way Chaplin did. Like the Chaplin of the Keystone period, Harpo's character constantly thrusts his head forward from his shoulders. In his first appearance in The Cocoanuts. Harpo throws his shoulders forward and leads from his chest as he chases women. He cranes his neck forward and sticks the head out in front of his body when standing still. This position does not change during his career, and he is still doing the same thing when he gawks at a beer in Go West, and when he holds a gun to his head and forces himself to eat an apple in Love Happy. Harpo does not evoke the audience sympathy that Chaplin evoked, and he does not invite anyone to live vicariously through him. In fact, Harpo's thrusting his head forward, combined with concealing his body in the confines of an overcoat, add to the air of mystery that surrounds him. Furthermore, the audience is kept in a perpetual state of mystery concerning the items that Harpo conceals on his person. He is likely to produce anything from within the pockets of the coat, and such a trait keeps any audience from making a spiritual or mental connection with the character. Instead, he forces the audience to stare in awe at this apparition that defies the confines of logic and social behavior. In addition to head positioning, Harpo often distorts the shape of his body. He is frequently shown leaning 62 against a wall (such as the wall in front of a women's restroom in Monkey Business^, over a desk (Duck Soup^, or on another person's body. Harpo leans toward speakers and gawks at their faces, and he violates personal space when he touches and climbs on top of other actors. When running, Harpo throws his body forward like a child, and he keeps his head placed in front of his torso. Despite the childlike movement, however, Harpo rests his weight on his heels instead of his toes. This may be a result of his age. Harpo was over 40 when the Marx Brothers first reached the screen, making his childlike appearance even more astounding.

Childishness Rudlin next describes the Harlequin as an acrobat whose brain cannot keep up with his body. He does not learn from his mistakes and is likely to repeat behavior despite its consequences. Marmontel refers to him as a man-child, both a "rake and an overgrown boy." Once again, these descriptions apply to Chaplin's earlier character, but they may be applied to Harpo throughout his career.

Chaplin Chaplin is very childlike and unforgiving in the short films for Keystone and Essanay. Chaplin's films at Keystone usually consist of one or two reels, and he rarely does more 63 than react to the world around him. He is, however, very childlike in his ability to play tricks on other characters; in The Masguerader he plays a trick on an entire studio; in Laughing Gas he outwits a dentist rival; in the films with Mabel Normand he battles Normand for control. Because the films are so short, Chaplin's "character" is reduced to little more than a trickster who manages to outcombat his enemies despite his physical limitations. Charlie begins to lose his childlike character in The Bank and The Tramp, but there are glimpses of an the tragicomic in Keystone films such as His New Job. Chaplin did not develop a full Pierrot until he completed a sacrificial action in City Lights; however, he accepts a melancholy existence in films such as The Vagabond. Charlie loses his childlike innocence over time by enduring cruel disappointments in life. The Tramp, in a sense, grows up. Harpo remains a child because he does not feel adult feelings; Charlie evolves from a child into an adult by sacrificing his own will and looking out for the happiness of those people he loves. By the time Charlie the Tramp reaches full development, his childlike innocence is partially hardened as a result of life's cruelty. He goes to prison in Citv Lights when he accepts the blame for stealing for a flower girl (Virginia Cherrel). In this film, Charlie is promised things when a rich man is drunk, but when the man is sober, he forgets all 64 about Charlie and eventually accuses him of theft. This film is a turning point for the Little Tramp, because he slowly learns that he cannot trust his rich companion. However, eager to help the girl, Charlie takes what has been promised to him and later pays for it by going to prison. Charlie is no longer a happy-go-lucky character who learns nothing from his mistakes. Now he makes a deliberate choice to go to prison in order to help the girl he loves. Modern Times marks the last appearance of the Little Tramp character. It also is a landmark in Chaplin's development into the Pierrot. In this film, Charlie is punished countless times for things he did not do. He loses his sanity at the workplace and is carted off to prison. Later he is mistakenly identified as the leader of a worker's strike and is put in prison again. He quickly loses his childlike innocence and learns that prison life is easier for him than life in the free world. As a result, after being released from prison a second time, he tries to take the blame for someone else's crime; and when that fails, he deliberately commits a crime in front of a policeman. Later in the film Charlie discovers love for a young girl (Paulette Goddard), and he becomes a father figure to her. This time there is no androgenous aspect to his parenting; Charlie is both a father and a love interest. By taking this role, Charlie loses his childlike innocence and makes the transformation from Harlequin to Pierrot. 65

Harpo

Harpo does not lose his innocence, and the Harpo in Love Happy is still as childish as the far-younger Harpo in The Cocoanutc:. He is often referred to as a boy. In Animal Crackers, he motions to a woman that he is five years old, and she responds that she likes "little boys like you." He reciprocates her love in a childish fashion by trying to break her arm. After he wrestles with Margaret Dumont in the same film, Chico steps in as a big brother and demands of Dumont, "Why don't you leave him alone?" In A Day at the Races, Harpo cries and whimpers when Chico takes him to the doctor, and he bolts for an open window at the mention of spinach. Harpo never learns from the consequences of his actions. He is as likely to knock out friend as foe—in fact, he often knocks himself out. His pranks continually backfire, but he gets up and does the same thing again. A good example of Harpo's obsession with tricks comes in the football scene in Horsefeathers. He is a child in an adult's game and outwits everyone, including himself. First, he is shown taking off a jersey three times his size, suggesting that he is not old enough to play. Then he unleashes a host of tricks on the other players, first tying a string to the football and tossing it about like a yoyo, and later helping his team almost score a touchdown by 66 throwing banana peels at opposing team members. In his childishness, Harpo gets carried away with the joke and throws a banana peel at his own player, thus making the "tackle" himself. Harpo saves the game by riding his horse- drawn street cleaner's cart onto the field. The cart becomes a chariot, and it carries the four Marx Brothers to victory. The Marx Brothers made the cover of Time after Horsefeathers, and the reviewer quipped that Harpo "never speaks, doesn't need to. His appalling brain expresses itself in a language more disastrous than words" (25). While it is easy to describe Chaplin's development as a character in his full-length films, little can be said about Harpo apart from describing his lazzi. Harpo's character in Duck Soup is most representative of his childlike qualities and inconsistencies. In this film, Harpo and Chico change sides in the war as frequently as Groucho changes war uniforms. Harpo has no intention of joining the winning side; he is following Chico, a big brother figure, and looking for the best way to complicate the game. The two characters are introduced as spies, but they are less interested in spying than they are in playing a childish game with authority. As a child, Harpo is able to get away with actions no adult could ever take; He cuts the tails off a tuxedo; he lights a cigarette with a blowtorch; he glues a man's pants to a chair; he dances barefoot in a lemonade wagon; he defies the laws of physics and drives a 67 motorcycle sidecar. Unlike Chaplin, the childishness does not evolve. Late in his career Harpo still pulls the same childish pranks; He fights a gunfight with a capgun (Go West); he pulls a door off a limousine (The Big Store'); he counts sheep under his pillow and rides bareback on a live ostrich (At the Circus); and he has a conversation over the phone using bicycle horns (Love Happy') . Harpo is not a part of a surrealistic daydream. He is a child and behaves like a child. His childishness is representative of childhood. He is a scheming kid, a devilish prankster, looking for a good joke, unaware of the consequences. His lazzi are carefree and ridiculous, and only occasionally do they have far-reaching implications. They are, simply, a childlike romp through an adult's world. One of Harpo's most frequently discussed lazzo is both ironic and shocking because of its implications. In Horsefeathers Harpo picks up a book, laughs at its contents, and then throws it into a fire. Later in the scene Harpo is shown again, this time shoveling a large stack of books into the fire and reacting with glee. This lazzo is typical; Harpo destroys or eats anything he does not understand. The bookburning image, of course, has become quite surrealistic in itself, but as seen in the context of Harpo as a character, it is consistent with his other actions. A note should be made that countless other gags were discarded from Marx Brothers films, usually because they were not 68 considered funny enough material. Adamson lists numerous gags that were left out of the final scripts. Harpo and gag writers concentrated on being funny, in a childlike, Harlequinesque manner.

Sexual Appetite Chaplin Rudlin's next trait for the Harlequin is the sexual appetite that may be refocused at any moment. Chaplin's devotion to single female figures in his later films has been discussed. In the Keystone films, however, Chaplin is as wild as Harpo^^^^^^ ^For instance, in Mabel's Strange Predicament, a drunk Charlie follows Mabel Normand through a hotel, flirting outrageously and making a general nuisance of himself. Later, he makes moves on her when she is in her pajamas. In Twenty Minutes of Love, the devilish Charlie sits next to a couple as they kiss, and he openly flirts with the woman. Later, Charlie steals a kiss from a second woman when her boyfriend leaves. He is obsessed with chasing women in other Keystone films: He loses his love after flirting with a maid in His Favorite Passtime; he flirts with a married woman in Caught in the Rain; he drools over a woman's picture and then fights a sailor for his girl in Recreation: he flirts with any woman in sight in Those Love Pangs, in y/Tfibel's Busy Day he even makes the Harpo-esque gesture of 69 putting his leg in a woman's hand (this gesture will be discussed in the chapter on lazzi). Chaplin's character at Essanay is much more refined, although he is still a woman-chaser in A Woman. By The Bank, Chaplin is a romantic who displays love and devotion for an individual woman. When Chaplin made full length- films, his character had developed to the point that he was willing to go beyond dreaming about relationships and make self-sacrifices for the good of the woman he loved. A definite change occurs in Chaplin's relationship with women from the Keystone to the Essanay films. He abandons the Harlequinesqe characteristic of bouncing from woman to woman, and he develops a three-dimensional character.

Harpo Harpo, in contrast, chases women as another childish game. During his first appearance in The Cocoanuts, Harpo chases three separate women in the same scene. Later, upon discovering that he can ring a bell and summon female bellhops, Harpo chases a crowd of women across the hotel. The girl-chasing lazzo only changed when Harpo the actor was physically unable to chase women across the set. In Love Happy. he is, nevertheless, continually turned by pretty heads and is only interested in the female directly in front of him. 70 Inability to Concentrate Chaplin Nicoll writes that the Harlequin is never angry for long because he cannot concentrate on more than one thing at a time. This trait applies more easily to Harpo than to Chaplin. In his early period Chaplin was vengeful and aggressive. For instance, in The Fireman Charlie is kicked and mistreated by his boss, Eric Campbell. Later in the film one of the other firemen treats him the same way, and Charlie takes out his vengeance on that fireman. As the character evolves, Charlie learns to outwit his enemies with a combination of brains and force. He is rarely distracted from a task; even though he often proves incompetent or unequipped for the job at hand, Chaplin usually concentrates his efforts on something. True, he may be distracted from chores, but he is not incapable of thinking about his work.

Harpo Harpo, on the other hand, never concentrates on anything. He interrupts speeches by placing his leg in the speaker's hand, and he is far more concerned with how he can start a game than with what any given speaker is ever saying. Harpo claims to be five, but his short attention span makes him seem even younger. In Duck Soup, Chico lectures him because he is not doing his job, and Harpo responds to the lecture by putting a bread stick in Chico's 71 flapping mouth. Then, when Chico complains to Edgar Kennedy, Harpo and Chico somehow join sides and play tricks on him. Apart from women, the most common focus of Harpo's attention is stealing everything in sight, often for the sole purpose of getting caught. His continual game playing is slowed only when Harpo sees a harp. In the harp scenes, Harpo drops the childish character and quits acting entirely. In the opening pages of Harpo Speaks. Harpo explains the change; If you've ever seen a Marx Brothers picture you know the difference between him and me. When he's chasing a girl across the screen, it's Him. When he sits down to play the harp, it's Me. Whenever I touched the strings of a harp, I stopped being an actor. (12)

Acrobatics Another Harlequinesque trait shared by both men is the use of acrobatics. Chaplin is far more likely to be considered an acrobat than Harpo, but both men defy physical logic and do acrobatic things. Chaplin's outgrowing acrobatic "tricks" will be discussed in a later chapter, but it should be noted that, even after developing pathos for his character, Chaplin still used his physical agility within the context of the film. The discussion of One AM in the chapter on Meyerhold is a good example of Chaplin's Harlequin-like ability to move. 72 Chaplin

Acrobatics in Chaplin films may be divided into several categories. First, Chaplin uses a series of acrobatic stunts, (usually a combination of pratfalls, twists and kicks) in chase scenes. For instance, in A Dog's Life. Charlie is being chased by a policeman around a wooden fence. He quickly discovers that he can roll through a hole in the ground and take swings and kicks at the policeman as he runs by. A similar lazzo was used in Twenty Minutes of Love when a policeman chases Charlie in and out of the bushes, and in The Adventurer, when Chaplin as an escaped convict goes through an elaborate chase scene on the beach. Chase scene acrobatics dominate his early career, and some variation occurs in nearly all of his Keystone and most of his Essanay films. He uses the acrobatics lazzo later as well, especially in The Circus. City Lights. and Modern Times, when authorities chase him. A second category of acrobatics includes Chaplin's execution of extreme physical feats. The pratfalls in One AM and the skating in The Rink and Modern Times demonstrate his outstanding physical ability. He also walks a tightrope in The Circus and outruns an escalator in The Floorwalker. Although he does not make a career out of death defying feats like comedians Buster Keaton and, to some extent, Harold Lloyd, Chaplin demonstrates extreme physical ability and control of the body on numerous occasions. 73 Finally, countless demonstrations may be found of his agility during everyday interaction. For instance, the simple pratfalls and physical "rough-housing" in the Keystone films demonstrate an athletic ability far beyond his fellow actors. His teaming with giant Eric Campbell in the Essanay films further accentuates his bodily control. He also completes acts of gymnastics when trying to keep other characters from pushing him around. For instance, in The Cure (1917), Chaplin watches a masseuse manhandle a customer and decides that he will not allow the masseuse to touch him. When his turn comes, Chaplin slides back and forth on the masseuses' table, and then he poses as a wrestler and dodges the larger man's advances. Their fight is a dance as they advance on each other in a rumba-like manner. Chaplin restrained his use of acrobatics in his later films, and he stopped relying on his physical capabilities alone to define his character. Instead of making his films a showcase to display his athleticism, Chaplin used acrobatics in the later films to support his characterization.

Harpo In contrast, although Harpo often commits acts that defy natural laws, his middle-aged body rarely accomplished acrobatic feats. He is, however, at his best when in 74 motion, and in the early films his perpetual movement included running in and out of scenes without any explanation as to his presence. These quick entrances and exits may also be applied to a trait Nicoll identified in the Harlequin—entering and exiting the scene in great haste. Harpo's body is squeezed into all sorts of unlikely places; He sleeps in Groucho's trunk and then climbs into the catwalks in A Night at the Opera; he climbs out of Edgar Kennedy's bath in Duck Soup; all four brothers make an appearance in kippered herring barrels in Monkey Business. Harpo spends a long chase scene on roller skates in The Big Store. but his jumping from the top of one aisle to another cannot be compared with Chaplin's acrobatics on roller skates in The Rink. It also seems that the older Harpo got, the more writers asked him to participate in acrobatics. Unfortunately, his body did not hold up well. According to show business lore, it was the stunts in The Big Store or another later Marx Brothers film that hastened the team's decision to retire.

Hunger

Chaplin Fisher cites two important aspects of the Harlequin: He is a representative of the common man, and, therefore, he is always hungry. It is easier to call Chaplin a common man than Harpo because of Chaplin's relationship with the 75 audience. As discussed, Harpo is somewhat mysterious, and the audience is never quite sure what he is going to do next. Chaplin is common in stature, nature and appearance. Since he is small, Chaplin often pits himself against much larger men, and the audience becomes interested in the small man or underdog. Since Charlie is always poor, he bonds with the audience in his struggle to survive. This trait may not be applied to Harpo; although the Marx Brothers often battle villains and are sometimes physically threatened, they show little concern about surviving until tomorrow. Chaplin, on the other hand, is fighting to live. This is especially important to remember when examining the food lazzo (there will be a full discussion of both men's use of food in a later chapter). Chaplin is always hungry because he is poor. He eats some odd things; He feasts on a shoe in The Gold Rush; he eats a child's food in The Circus; he shares a frankfurter with his dog in The Champion. Chaplin's odd eating habits are a result of his struggle for survival. He would not boil and eat a shoe if he were not starving. Somehow, despite having to choke down spaghetti-like shoelaces and suck cobbler's nails, he manages to enjoy the meal. Chaplin's continual hunger is a result of his character's dilemma; that is, he has no money, and he must eat anything he can find. 76 Harpo In contrast, Harpo eats things he does not understand. He is always hungry, but not because he is poor. A plethora of food exists in Marx Brothers films. Harpo and Chico exchange sausages as gifts in A Night at the Opera. The brothers feast on hotel food in Room Service. Even when food is available, Harpo does not discriminate between edible and inedible objects. He eats ties, thermometers, ink wells, buttons, and practically anything else that catches his eye. Harpo's eating is related to his childlike quality. Whenever he is confronted with a new object, Harpo snatches it and puts it in his mouth, just like a child. His continual hunger is not related to Charlie's hunger, and while Chaplin uses hunger to gain audience sympathy, Harpo uses it as a source for gags.

Characteristics of the Harlequin A word may be said about the various interpretations of the Harlequin's character. While Nicoll and others call Harlequin simple. Sand calls him a philosopher. Although these two descriptions seem contradictory, they may be applied to both Harpo and Chaplin. Both characters appear stupid in their childlike simplicity, but they display great understanding of the world around them. The idea of an idiot philosopher may especially be applied to Harpo, who defies the rules of nature in his everyday life. Harpo 77 takes the most difficult course of action possible. He and Chico keep locking each other out when they try to break into a house in Duck Soup. Harpo intentionally bangs his thumb with a hammer and then locks himself in a jail cell during a prison break in The Cocoanuts. These childlike actions are examples of Harpo's game playing, not his stupidity. When looked at from this angle, Harpo's actions seem almost sensible. For instance, when they attempt to escape the second floor of a house in Horsefeathers, Chico hands Harpo a rope and tells him, "Tie on the bed, throw the rope out of the window." Harpo does exactly what he is told, taking off his tie and putting it on the bed, and then throwing the rope outside. When they realize they cannot escape through the window, Harpo and big brother Chico take the most logical course of action: They saw themselves through the floor. In an essay on the Marx Brothers humor, Mellencamp deftly describes Harpo's actions; "Harpo liberalizes every metaphor, wreaking havoc. . . on the cliches of language and the mise-en-scene" (65). Chaplin's actions also have an odd logic to them, but they are not easily labeled as the actions of an idiot philosopher. For one thing, Chaplin did not have the luxury of being able to react to words. Chaplin was a mime; he could only rely on his body to display action, and once he broke through the talking barrier, the character underwent an extreme change. In contrast, although Harpo did not 78 speak, much of his humor is derived from words. In a 1976 article, "The Marx Brothers and How They Grew," Walter Kerr raises serious questions over whether or not Harpo should be considered a mime at all. Harpo . . . depended on a running commentary from Groucho or urgent prodding from Chico for his best, most inappropriately responsive effects. After all, you can't slice an ax through a freshly shuffled bridge deck unless someone's first asked you to cut the cards. (37) Harpo is, therefore, dependent on the rest of the team to help him create his lazzi. This teamwork may also be applied to the idea of Harpo being a Harlequin and Chaplin's progressing beyond characteristics of the Commedia character. Nicoll argues that Chaplin is not actually a representative of Commedia dell'Arte at all because he was not an ensemble player: "Although Chaplin appears with other actors in his films, quite clearly he is dominant; the others hardly matter at all" (18). In contrast, the Commedia dell'Arte did not provide "vehicles for a single star," and the emphasis is upon the "entire company" (18). It may be argued that the supporting characters gained greater importance in Chaplin's later films as he relied less on his physical ability to carry the picture. Harpo, on the other hand, was always dependent upon a supporting cast. Groucho, an avid reader, takes a rather intellectual look at the Marx Brothers team in The Groucho Phile, and he 79 places them in the context of Commedia. Without actually using the technical terms for a commedia team, Groucho acknowledged that the Marx Brothers made up a "stock company" in which each actor played the same character in a series of shows. The Groucho character is described as "obnoxious, irreverent, egomaniacal. . . he was, in a way, the synopsis of the story." Harpo is the rabble-rouser of the group, "sweet, innocent, disarming," and the girls he chased "were in no danger." Chico was "dumb like a fox," but lacked "depth and soul" in both character and real life. Zeppo was "handsome, wooden. . . the fill-in." In Monkey Business, Zeppo discovered the romantic character, and Groucho later comments that, although the brothers believed Zeppo was disposable, they always kept a "Zeppo-like" character in their later films. For Groucho, the final member of the stock company became Margaret Dumont, who represented the establishment. Groucho writes, "She never could quite understand what was going on. She never understood any of the jokes" (84-86). In this manner, Harpo is more easily applied to the Commedia than Chaplin, and he is easily identified as a Harlequin figure. Harpo demonstrates nearly all of the identified traits of the Harlequin, and once he discovered them, he never varied on their use. Chaplin began his career like a Harlequin, but he progressed past the trickster qualities of the character and experimented with 80 Other methods in his development of pathos. In addition, Chaplin did not rely on other characters to support him, and during the Keystone and Essanay years, when he was demonstrating his most Harlequinesque behavior, Chaplin dominated the action of his films. In contrast, Harpo relied on a supporting cast in order to complete his lazzi. Harpo without other characters is ineffective, but as part of a team, he is indispensable. While Harpo demonstrates the characteristics of the Harlequin throughout his career, Chaplin first experiments with the Harlequin and then abandons him in his quest for a tragicomic figure.

Summary This chapter has demonstrated how both Harpo and Chaplin used traits of the Harlequin. While Harpo remained a Harlequin throughout his career, Chaplin progressed into something else. It is, therefore, important to examine the traits of the Pierrot in context with Chaplin's abandonment of some of the more obnoxious quirks in the Harlequin's character. Final evidence that Harpo and the Marx Brothers were satisfied with using the Harlequin and Commedia traits solely for comedy comes from Groucho's commentary on Chaplin. The Marx Brothers were all big fans of Chaplin's, and Groucho himself recognized a difference in their styles. 81 In The Groucho Phile he told readers that the Marx Brothers had a different goal than Chaplin. All good comedians are good dramatic actors. What actor could create the pathos of a Chaplin? For many years I've said that Chaplin is the greatest comedian of the century, and yet no one has brought a bigger lump to my throat through the heart and soul of his performances. There was, however, a need in him to accomplish such effects. This was a need my brothers and I seldom felt. (298) The need in Chaplin to accomplish a more meaningful blend of comedy with tragedy drove him to abandon most of the traits of the Harlequin and to search for other ways of developing a character. The next chapter will place Chaplin in the context of one of the Harlequin's grandchildren; The Pierrot. CHAPTER IV ORIGINS; CHAPLIN, HARPO AND THE PIERROT

Although Chaplin is often compared with the Pierrot, no detailed study of the two characters has been completed. This chapter will trace the origins of the Pierrot, listing his traits and emphasizing the difference between his character and that of the Harlequin. The traits will be applied to both Chaplin and Harpo. While Harpo may be equated with the Harlequin throughout his career, Charlie the Tramp evolved into a Pierrot. Six major traits of the Pierrot may be identified with Chaplin: the adaptability of the character, the character mask, servitude, stoicism in the face of misery, suicidal tendencies, and the use of mime. The link between Chaplin and the Pierrot is important to this study because it has already been established that Harpo Marx and Charlie Chaplin both began their careers using the Harlequin mask. Chaplin's experimentation led him to the develop a new mask. Had he chosen to keep the Harlequin mask, Chaplin would not have progressed as an artist; however, as his art progressed beyond comedy into an exploration of comic and tragic technique, the Pierrot mask became the most important tool in Chaplin's art. Several studies have drawn similarities between Chaplin and the Pierrot. In The Triumph of the Pierrot, Green and

82 83 Swan devote one-third of a chapter to discussing Chaplin's development of a Pierrot-like heart. Robert Payne traces Charlie the Tramp to a recurring character that he claims evolved from the Commedia Pulcinella into the Pierrot. Meyerhold identifies the element of pathos in Chaplin's work. Additional researchers have tried to link Chaplin to the Commedia in general. In Chaplin: Genesis of a Clown, Francis and Sobel list a few Commedia lazzi Chaplin incorporated in his silent films. Included in this list are the uses of props, gags about bodily functions, acrobatics, lewdness, and teamwork between actors during the Keystone and Essanay years (200-205). They make little effort, however, to distinguish between Commedia characters, and they incorrectly attribute several lazzi to Chaplin. Although they mention the Pierrot, they do not positively identify traits that Chaplin and the Pierrot have in common. Another study. Harlequin's Stick. Charlie's Cane, by David Madden, attempts to link Chaplin with the Harlequin by displaying a series of sketches and pictures. For instance. Madden shows a series of vaudeville personalities side-by- side with Commedia characters from which he claims they have descended. Madden does not document most of his ideas, and, with the exception of a few interesting visual parallels between comedians and Commedia, he breaks very little ground. He does, however, spend a great deal of time attempting to justify a link between Chaplin and the 84 Harlequin. Madden also makes an elaborate attempt to refute Allardyce Nicoll, who claimed that Chaplin should not be compared with Commedia for two reasons; first, because he did not work with a team; and second, because his character was silent. Some confusion occurs as to whether or not Chaplin understood what he was doing. After listing a few Commedia lazzi, Sobel and Francis claim that "years later, after someone had drawn his attention to the Commedia's work, Chaplin was astonished to find how close it was to his own" (205). They fail, however, to cite a source. In contrast, Chaplin actually mentions the Pierrot as a source of inspiration in selected writings. In My Autobiography, Chaplin describes the change from his Keystone films to his later films. Chaplin describes Charlie's brain during the Keystone days as "less active" and concerned with the essentials of "food, warmth, and shelter," much like the attributes of the Harlequin discussed in the previous chapter. These characteristics did not fully suit Chaplin because "with each succeeding comedy, the Tramp was growing more complex." Chaplin had to discover a manner of evolving from Harlequinesque slapstick comedy into something with more substance. "The solution," he writes, "came when I thought of the Tramp as a sort of Pierrot" (208). In his 1915 essay, "How I Made My Success," Chaplin claims to find his characters in real life because the funniest situations 85 in a play are "an exaggeration of such action in real life that I have seen my counterpart pass through, but which was not at all funny in itself" (121). In other words, Charlie the Tramp is a successful character because he is a manifestation of the common man, much like both Pierrot and Harlequin. In The Great God Pan, Robert Payne quotes Chaplin as saying, "Charlie was a shabby Pierrot. The more I studied the Commedia dell'Arte, the more I realized that Charlie was in existence long before I invented him." Chaplin was not, however, concerned with the Commedia dell'Arte when he began acting. His thought process at the beginning was much like the Marx Brothers' thought processes throughout their careers. "I was after fifty dollars a week. It was only later on that I saw that everything I was trying to do was in some way derived from the Commedia dell'Arte" (42). This comment may be compared to Groucho's statement that the Marx Brothers were just "trying to be funny" (Altman, 12). Chaplin's comedy evolved from slapstick to the creation of pathos, but the Marx Brothers were concerned with little more than slapstick humor.

Pierrot History The Pierrot figure was born nearly a century after the Harlequin, but he is related to Harlequin, Zanni, and the 86 zanni characters. While Harlequin is associated with the Italian Commedia, the Pierrot was born in France. Although he is from the same lineage, the Pierrot demonstrates a different series of traits than Harlequin. In Commedia dell'Arte: An Actor's Handbook, Rudlin attempts to trace the Pierrot family tree:

Although there is a record of a Piero in 1547, throughout the rest of the sixteenth century the character was obscure until re-emerging as Pagliaccio (1570), then Gian-Farina (1598), becoming Pedrolino as the creation of Giovanni Pellesini who played first with a company known simply as Pedrolino's (1576), then with Gelosi, then with the Uniti, and finally the Confidenti. The name Pedrolino was used throughout the seventeenth century, finally being adapted in France as a minor variant, Pierrotto, into Pierrot in 1665. (134)

The history of the Pierrot as a figure is well-detailed in Robert Storey's excellent book, Pierrot; A Critical History of a Mask. He also traces the Pierrot through the Commedia to the Pedrolino, and Storey demonstrates that the mask of the Pierrot was developed and evolved by the actors who played him. In contrast to the Harlequin and the other characters, all of whom wore masks during performances, the Pierrot played in white face, and thus, he was more vulnerable than other Commedia personalities. "Harlequin seems always ready to pull off his mask and put his role aside . . . but Pierrot's pathetic white face cannot be unmasked; creator and role are fused into a single 87 Character" (31). it is this fusion that, in many respects, makes the Pierrot one of the most important individuals in Commedia. He appeared late on the scene, and although other characters were defined by actors who played them, the Pierrot is unique because he undergoes such a dramatic series of transformations. The Pierrot is, in effect, an actor's character; he is a figure that evolved from other masks and that provided individual actors with a living character that grew as they grew. Since the confines of a physical mask were eliminated, the Pierrot was forced to rely on his body rather than his mask to demonstrate his character. Although he still sported a mask, it was a physical part of the Pierrot and his unique costume, thus affording him more mobility in acting.

Characteristics of the Pierrot Mask The development of an actor-based mask was a major step in the evolution of Commedia characters toward the twentieth century. After the Pierrot broke away from the use of a physical mask and relied instead on his face in conjunction with other elements, other characters did the same, thus allowing the Commedia dell'Arte to extend itself into new areas. Uraneff's idea that the Commedia would be reborn in vaudeville and silent film is based on and supported by the Pierrot's break from the traditional mask. These comedians 88 relied on their bodies and physical contortion of their faces to create new masks, as demonstrated by photographs in David Madden's study. It is this use of makeup and facial distortion that may be identified as the first important trait of the Pierrot.

Pathos/Feelings In his introduction to the text. Storey describes a second trait of the Pierrot when he explains that the character was influenced by two separate literary figures. Storey identifies elements of the Harlequin as a foundation for the Pierrot: At one pole stands his Italian predecessor Pedrolino, who, like the Gallicized Harlequin, is a creature of insouciance and activity, a character of almost no psychological "depth," a symbol of comic irrepresibility and unself- conscious verve. He inhabits a dense social world, but curiously, rarely suffers pangs of social conscience. At the other pole stands Hamlet—a figure of melancholy indolence, a character of inscrutable depth and complexity, a symbol of human vulnerability and mortality, a moralist tortured by conscience—but just as curiously, an egoist who is profoundly asocial and solipsistic. (xiv)

It is interesting to note that Storey chose Hamlet, since Nicoll also compares Hamlet with the Commedia dell'Arte. In Nicoll's mind, however, Hamlet is the opposite of all Commedia characters since he is and always will be the same Hamlet, as created by Shakespeare. In contrast, Pierrot, Harlequin, and the rest of the Commedia 89 Characters keep their basic attributes but have the potential to change with every performance because the Commedia dell'Arte is a theater of improvisation. Identifying the Pierrot with Hamlet is also important because it demonstrates that the Pierrot has a dramatic side that other Commedia characters did not have. Instead of being a tool for the development of lazzi, the Pierrot developed feelings and became a three-dimensional character, unlike most of his Commedia ancestors. The second element to identify with the Pierrot is, therefore, the element of pathos as a part of the performance and mask. Defined by Webster's Ninth Collegiate Dictionary as an element of sympathetic pity, "pathos" is often misinterpreted and misdefined. A definition from Chaplin scholar Timothy Lyons is necessary to clarify the meaning and use of the word: The emotion of pathos is a complex one, open to a number of interpretations. Confusion exists between three relatively similar feelings: pity, pathos, and bathos. Pity is a feeling of compassion or understanding accompanying a shared grief for the humanity of a situation. Bathos, however, is based on a sentimentalized and highly personal identification along with a compulsive desire to express sadness, regardless of the seriousness of the situation. Borrowing elements from both of these emotions is pathos, an identification with the humanity in a grieved situation. (113) The quality of empathy demonstrated by Pierrot was used in Chaplin's development of Charlie the Tramp. Elements of 90 pity and bathos also exist in the Pierrot and other Commedia figures, but only the Pierrot reaches a full integration of bathos and pity.

Servitude In addition to the use of the white-faced mask and the achievement of pathos, John Rudlin identifies a number of elements that may be applied to the Pierrot. First, since the Pierrot was one of the final members of the Commedia team to evolve, he is the lowest member of the "pecking order" and is, therefore, often mistreated or forced to live with and feed with animals. Rudlin identifies the derivation of the Pierrot character from Pagliaccio, or "pagliaio," meaning "a pile of straw," or "one who sleeps in the straw with the animals." On a related note, the Pierrot is the butt of jokes, but he manages never to lose his dignity (134). Rudlin also identifies a special relationship between the Pierrot and dogs because "he shares their abused, half-starved lives" (136).

Stoicism in the Face of Misery Rudlin's Pierrot is "stoic in the face of misery" and survives challenges by displaying simplicity in his daily life. In addition, Rudlin identifies two characteristics that may be applied to the idea of pathos. First, the Pierrot has "anaesthetized his sensitivity by pretending to 91 have no feelings," but the audience knows that the Pierrot is sensitive because he "gives vent to feelings only when alone" (136). In other words, the character's actions do not necessarily reflect what the audience knows to be his inner desires. Rudlin also identifies the Pierrot as being somewhat love-stricken with Colombine, and he blames himself when Colombine is unfaithful to him. Rudlin suggests that the Pierrot will "suffer eternally" for unrequited love.

Mime and Costume In addition to those things identified by Rudlin, several other personality traits of the Pierrot are of interest to this study. First, Robert Payne argues that by the early 19th century, the Pierrot's costume became an essential part of his character, and he stopped speaking and worked as a mime. Gradually the tears vanished, and he became the emblematic figure of the giggle, the man cast in adversity who laughs triumphantly at fate. At this point one of the great master­ strokes occurred; his sleeves lengthened, so that he appeared to be without hands, and those long flapping sleeves, like the wings of an ungainly bird, conveyed his emotions. In the early plays he spoke. Now he had no need to speak: it was enough if he raised a protesting sleeve, smiled, shook his poor dumb head, uttered the faintest of protesting sighs. Poor Pierrot 1 (43)

Payne's poorly documented work may hardly be taken as an ultimate source for the development of the character, but 92 there is some evidence that, as the Pierrot evolved, actors began playing him in mime. Perhaps the best supporting evidence is the long history of the character itself, since the Pierrot developed attributes based on the individual actors who took the mask.

Adaptability To a greater extent than any other character in the Commedia dell'Arte, the Pierrot was subject to the actors who played him. By the 19th century the Pierrot was no longer chained to the Commedia dell'Arte; and, more than any other character in Commedia, the Pierrot developed a personality outside of his relationship to the other Commedia characters. Green and Swan discuss the strange case of the actor Deberau, who, after being charged offstage as a murderer, began playing the Pierrot as a murderer as well (6). Kay Dick writes that the Deberau murder happened in 1836, and, in a passage comprised of partial truth and partial Commedia scenario, she describes Deberau/Pierrot as lashing out at a group of youths who taunted his Colombine (176-177). Dick is of the opinion that all subsequent Pierrots carried the memory of the murder. Sand writes that Deberau "made Pierrot now good, and generous out of carelessness, now a thief, false and sometimes miserly, now cowardly, now daring, and almost always poor. . ." (219). In other words, the Pierrot searched for an identity despite keeping a highly recognizable and identifiable personality The Pierrot could be good or bad, and, despite being poor, he could accomplish almost any task to which he set his mind.

Unique Characteristics of the Pierrot In a poorly documented (though highly interesting and useful) work, Kay Dick identifies several more traits that the Pierrot developed before the end of the nineteenth century. Dick lists his ability to walk the tightrope (168) and his belonging to all places, for "all Pierrots, all comedians, have their birthplace in that mythical land of Bohemia, which is everywhere" (167). Dick also identifies a suicidal tendency in the Pierrot, a result of his seeming melancholy that is resolved by his discovery of a passion for art (168). Finally, Dick identifies Deberau's son as bringing about the final evolution of the character. "He became entirely a mime, enacting his drama with silence that was awe-inspiring and certainly, judging from contemporary accounts, intensely impressive" (176).

Whatever the name, the costume, or the style, the Pierrot may be identified by easily recognizable attributes; a white mask that incorporates the actor's face; an element of pathos; feeling and sensitivity on the inside that are masked by the character's attempt to keep dignity in the face of adversity; an identification with animals and a low 94 place in society; the willingness to suffer eternally for unrequited love; the individual characteristics of the actor manifested in the character itself; and finally, the ability to abandon words in order to express feelings. These characteristics are certainly manifested in the character of the Little Tramp, but few of them are actually a part of the repertoire of Harpo Marx.

Chaplin. Harpo. and the Pierrot Adaptability The most easily addressed characteristic of the Pierrot is his chameleon-like ability to envelop the personality of the actor and adapt to the changing world around him. This trait is easily exemplified in Chaplin, but it is not evident in Harpo's work.

Chaplin Chaplin's films demonstrate an artistic progression, and it is evident that he allowed his own personality to touch the character. In The Silent Clowns. Walter Kerr writes that Chaplin created a universal character that is equally at home in the role of a fireman, policeman, or vagabond. The character remains in a state of progression 95 and flux because he is constantly evolving, and because he really does not belong to anyone or anything. The secret of Chaplin, as a character, is that he can be anyone. That is his problem. The secret is a devastating one. For the man who can, with the flick of a finger or the blink of an eyelash, instantly transform himself into absolutely anyone is a man who must, in his heart, remain no one. (85)

This willingness to take on any personality may also be compared with the Pierrot's attribute of belonging to all places at all times. Chaplin's own identification with two countries, England and America, and the inconsistent reports about his birthplace and ethnic background are indicative of the Pierrot.

This ability to transform instantly is reminiscent of the evolutionary transformation of the historical Pierrot. Like Pierrot, Chaplin took his character from a variety of sources, and he adapted it to fit his general needs. Kerr maintains that Chaplin developed a popular comic image at Keystone (80) and afterward used that image to grow into a character. It is this growth that separates Chaplin from Harpo; Chaplin was not content to play the same character throughout his career. An outstanding example of Chaplin's willingness to adapt the character to change comes in his decision to convert to talking pictures. Kerr contends that Chaplin was one of the last silent film artists to make the transition, 96 and after Modern Times, the Pierrot/Tramp character was retired. This is not entirely true. Chaplin hesitated to abandon silent films, but once he committed himself to making a film with sound, he adapted the character to the situation. By playing both Hynkel and the Jewish Barber in The Great Dictator, Chaplin was able to use much of Charlie's personality and attributes without actually resurrecting Charlie. Chaplin the barber is a talking Pierrot; he wears the white mask and the tiny moustache on his face; he uses pantomime and music in a shaving scene; he and his friends are excluded from society and forced to live like animals; he falls in love with a young woman and is willing to risk execution in order to voice the cry for freedom that he and the Jews must voice. In addition, the infamous speech at the end of The Great Dictator is a fusion of Chaplin's personality with the Pierrot's committment to self-sacrifice. Critics often describe the segment as an impassioned plea from Chaplin's own mouth. When taken in the context of the Pierrot, however, the plea is a logical step in Chaplin's progression. Like Deberau's playing the Pierrot as a murderer, Chaplin voiced his views through the mouth of his character, and he made a statement on the world situation through his film. Before making the transition to sound, Chaplin took two steps to complete Charlie's character, and both of them proved that, like the Pierrot, he was willing to adapt to 97 Change. In Citv Lights, Chaplin dramatized the eternal plight of Charlie. In Modern Times, he used a blend of silence and sound to aid his own transition from silent films.

City Lights is clearly influenced by all of the films that proceeded it, and Walter Kerr calls it a consummation of Charlie the Tramp. Kerr says that the close of the film is a finale for the character. Upon revealing to the flower girl that he, a tramp, was responsible for restoring her sight, Charlie looks at Cherrill without saying or doing anything. Kerr asks; "What else can it do, what else can Charlie do, what else can Chaplin do—ever? His meaning has arrived at stalemate, is stalemate. The truth is out and the truth is a stone wall" (351). For Kerr, Charlie at the end of City Lights is a personification of Charlie's archetypal dilemma. All of the previous films led up to this scene of discovery, where Charlie the Pierrot has sacrificed himself but will not receive any kind of reward. Charlie achieves the characteristics of the Pierrot, and he becomes Christ-like in his display of unconditional love. In Modern Times. Chaplin makes a transition between silent film and sound. The film's world is a curious mix of sound and images; Charlie dances a ballet both in the workplace and in a recreational skating scene; Charlie and Paulette Goddard communicate through gesture and glances; machines break the silence and actually bark out orders to 98 Charlie and the other workers. Charlie remains silent until the end of the film when, in a song and dance routine, audiences hear Chaplin's voice for the first time. He does not speak during this scene; it is a performance much like Chaplin's work in the London Music Hall. The nonsensical song, however, breaks the sound barrier and serves as a transition into talking film. After consummating the character in City Lights and then building a smooth transition into sound film in Modern Times. Chaplin split and expanded the Tramp character in The Great Dictator, and then created new characters in Limelight and Monsieur Verdoux.

Harpo The previous chapter established that Harpo's character remained stable through most of the Marx Brothers' films. The flirtation with pathos during the Thalberg years establishes a somewhat more refined Harpo, but the character is still much the same as the early sprite. Thalberg attempted to give him human flesh by justifying his absurd actions. By the end of his career, however, Harpo had gone back to the old lazzi of hiding items in his coat. The interrogation scene in Love Happy begins when thugs search Harpo for a can of sardines. Instead, they find most of a mannequin, a barber's pole, a live dog, and a kitchen sink. 99 In other words, Harpo did not continue to develop the changes imposed by Thalberg after the producer's death. A second example of Harpo's inability to adapt to change comes from the failed film. Room Service. This time the Marx Brothers' characters are imposed upon an already established script, and Harpo seems at a loss for something to do. The writers reduce themselves to repeating old visual gags, such as an eating lazzi in which the Marx Brothers fight over a table full of food. Unlike the Pierrot, Harpo's character was not built on what happened to him in the past; in fact, apart from the repetition of gags and the occasional reference to old jokes, the Marx Brothers' films are hardly related at all. There is no overriding character development, and, at the end of his career, Harpo still played the character he established in The Cocoanuts. Furthermore, during the Thalberg years, when Harpo attempted to refine his actions, film audiences were slow to accept his evolution. Wes Gerhing describes the 1936 Walt Disney cartoon, Mickey's Polo Team, in which Mickey Mouse competes with Chaplin, Harpo, and Laurel and Hardy. Although the cartoon was released the year after A Night at the Opera. Harpo is a trickster, more resembling the early character than the Thalberg variation. Gehring calls him "easily the roughest player, no small accomplishment when your competition includes the Big Bad Wolf." Gehring suggests Harpo's trickery indicates "a 100 comically unsympathetic Harpo had not yet overstayed his welcome" (74).

The Mask A second element of the Pierrot is the human mask, usually made up of white powder or makeup. Both Chaplin and Harpo created masks with a combination of makeup and their natural faces, and a number of similarities between their "masks" may be identified.

Chaplin Chaplin also uses white makeup at the beginning of his career, but as the character becomes more and more like the Pierrot, he increases the amount of eye makeup and attempts to call attention to the white mask around his face. Walter Kerr identifies the use of hollowed cheeks in A Dog's Life, (166) and Chaplin experimented with shading various parts of the face. The mask became more evident with each passing film until City Lights, in which a definite contrast occurs between the whiteness of his face and the dark makeup above and underneath his eyes. The inhuman contrast gives Chaplin the appearance of a puppet and conjures images of Craig's uber-marionette. The barber's makeup for The Great Dictator is far less exaggerated, since Chaplin developed a new character for sound films. 101 A note should be made about the general use of exaggerated makeup during Chaplin's work at Keystone, Mutual and Essanay. When compared with the people around him, Chaplin's makeup seems rather tame. A particularly good example is Eric Campbell, who starred in the Mutual films, and who is often rendered unrecognizable by overuse of eye shadow and facial hair. In Behind the Scenes. Eric Cambpell and The Immigrant, Campbell uses heavy eye makeup that distorts his features and makes him look unreal. In The Floorwalker, Campbell has a heavy beard and giant, villainous pointed eyebrows. His beard is so thick in this movie that his mouth cannot be seen. In Easy Street Campbell loses both his beard and his hair. It has been suggested that Campbell brought his makeup from Gilbert and Sullivan operettas on the stage. All of the actors at the three studios, however, used heavy makeup to match their broad, stylized acting.

Harpo Harpo's makeup is difficult to categorize. In The Cocoanuts he appears to be heavily powdered, almost to the extent of Chaplin. The pale face is contrasted by a darker- than-usual wig. By Animal Crackers. Harpo's wig is lighter, and the contrast with his face is not as intense. Nevertheless, the makeup in his first two films appears to be much heavier than it does in later films. This may be 102 ^"ttributable to poor makeup techniques; Chico also wears heavy amounts of makeup and loses much of his natural expression. They both appear to be made up for the stage, not film. The general effect of the powdering is for both men to look young, Harpo, in fact, appears childish in the early films, and since his character is sprite-like, makeup artists attempted to keep the same appearance throughout his career. By Room Service, however, Harpo is showing serious signs of age. The wrinkles in his face are compensated for by heavily outlining the eyes. Harpo's hair also loses a few curls, and his wig appears to grow flat in the later films. In Room Service and Go West, the makeup artist attempts to redden Harpo's cheeks to make him look younger. The effect might work in color; however, since both films are in black and white, the action has an adverse effect, and Harpo's cheeks appear hollow. By Love Happy, the makeup artist simply outlines Harpo's eyes to make them stand out when he gawks. Harpo actually uses his face to create mood masks, establishing a series of expressions to exhibit emotion ranging from pure joy to engagement. His most famous facial expression is, of course, the gookie, an odd combination eye-cross and raspberry Harpo picked up by imitating a local 103 cigar-store worker. Harpo describes it in his autobiography: His tongue lolled out in a flat roll, his cheeks puffed out, and his eyes popped out and crossed themselves. I used to stand there and practice imitating Cookie's look for fifteen, twenty minutes at a time, using the window glass as a mirror. . . Over the years, in every comic act or movie I've ever worked in, I've "thrown a Gookie" at least once. (53) By the end of his career, the Gookie became a lazzi upon which Harpo would rely, even when screenwriters gave him little else to do. The gookie also found itself the subject of a few variations. For instance, Harpo achieves rage in Cocoanuts, Animal Crackers, and Horsefeathers by squinting his crossed eyes and clinching his teeth. He uses a frightening gookie in Love Happy in order to silence a yapping dog. He also used facial expressions to display various degrees of interest. His full smile is a complete distortion of all the muscles in his face. In Animal Crackers. Harpo displays greed by using a full smile and rubbing his hands together. He uses a half-smile and a nod of the head to indicate affirmation; in At the Circus, Harpo demonstrates that he has an official seal to get on a train by smiling and nodding to the live seal following him. Harpo's closed-mouth grin is a device for flirtation, and it usually instigates a chase scene with a female. Only extremes exist in Harpo's repertoire; his smiles are childish exaggerations of real life. 104 Finally, Harpo's eyes are essential in making him appear young, even after he has reached retirement age. There are few scenes when the eyes are not fully open and gawking. Harpo ages around the eyes, however, and by At the Circus noticeable bags appear underneath them. The childish grin is betrayed by tired eyes.

Pathos/Feelings The Pierrot achieved an element of pathos by moving away from the slapstick humor of the Commedia dell'Arte and allowing the audience to see his feelings. Rudlin identifies him as hiding his true feelings from others and displaying them only when he is alone. Such an action makes the Pierrot special to an audience; after all, they know a secret that the other actors do not know. Such an action creates intimacy. This same level of intimacy was certainly achieved by Chaplin, but it was never fully accomplished by Harpo Marx.

Chaplin at Keystone A number of interesting elements may be observed in Chaplin's progression towards the dramatic. During his Keystone films, he begins touching aspects of humanity that would later be fully developed as themes for tragicomedy. For instance, in Twenty Minutes of Love Charlie wants a girlfriend. He plays a Harlequinesque trickster who imposes 105 upon^everal couples, but his motivation of finding love is well-defined. Even in this slapstick treatment of kissing in the park, Chaplin's inner desires are quite clear, and the audience can see that he is motivated by loneliness. Desire becomes a theme in the Keystone films, and it foreshadows the eventual self-sacrifice for love demonstrated in later full-length films. Even when Chaplin dropped the Charlie disguise in the Keystone films, he was usually motivated by either love or money. In contrast, Harpo's motivations can rarely, if ever, be defined. Charlie is moved by love or the need for love; Harpo seems moved by nothing.

Chaplin After Keystone After completing the contract with Keystone, Chaplin joined Essanay and slowly developed a character that stood out against the world. In A Short History of the Movies, Gerald Mast identifies a shift in the structure of Chaplin's films from Keystone to Essanay to Mutual. Mast identifies an evolution from a series of gags to more detailed sequences requiring "attention to either the situation or the character—rather than the gags alone—to sustain it" (85). Charlie the Tramp, therefore, slowly developed Pierrot-like characteristics, becoming a loner and moving from situation to situation in which he struggled simply to 106 survive. In addition, Chaplin addressed the idea of self- sacrifice and the possibility of reward. It is difficult to pinpoint when Chaplin began his transition from slapstick comedy to more thoughtful tragicomedy. Walter Kerr names the Essanay film. Police (May, 1916), as the turning point, for it is at that point that Chaplin fully realizes his chameleon-like ability to change (82). Kerr's thesis is that Chaplin does not fit into anything and, therefore, is able to transform at will. It may be argued, however, that the first element of pathos came in The Tramp (an Essanay film) in which Charlie rescues Edna Purviance from robbers and then accepts an invitation to work for her father. He Edna to love him for what he has done, but his dreams are squelched when he sees that Edna is enfatuated with someone else. Chaplin uses the same device he used in the Keystone films; that is, he is lonely and looking for love. For the first time, however, Chaplin dreams of change and then accepts thing the way they are. In The Comic Mind. Gerald Mast identifies a series of themes in Chaplin's work, one of which is dreaming. Mast discusses Chaplin's struggle to find a happy medium between tragedy and comedy for Charlie. The "happy endings" were "painfully facile evasions" of the fact that, although Charlie may be inherently good, he will never gain his reward on earth. Endings that left Charlie alone on the road Mast identifies as "consistent with the Tramp's 107 Character," but he complains that they avoided the paradox of why bad things happen to good people by "emphasizing the emotional effects of pathos." Mast identifies the greatest films as being those that emphasize "the tension between poetic justice and earthly justice, personal morality and public definitions of morality, fiction and life, wish and reality" (113-114). In other words, Chaplin is at his best when he demonstrates the Pierrot as a self-sacrificing character who will never achieve reward and is a misfit in his world.

Harpo before Thalberg Four instances occur in which Harpo showed some form of feelings. None of them amount to much separately, but together they demonstrate the futility of attempting to achieve pathos in a Marx Brothers' film. The first occurs in The Cocoanuts. and it is one of the most simple and touching scenes in all of the Marx Brothers' movies. Saddened by a grieving woman, Harpo pulls a lollipop from his coat and offers it to her. The scene is quick; there is no superfluous action, and he gains no reward. Harpo is, however, human, and after all the chases and games have stopped, he is sensitive to the needs of other people. This scene comes closer to achieving pathos than any other scene in a Marx Brothers film, and it occurred in their very first endeavor. 108 A similar scene occurred in Love Happy. This time, Harpo goes through a series of silly gags to make a grieving woman laugh. He pretends to pull his eyes out of their sockets and wash them, and then he rolls them around his head. This scene has far less impact than the scene in The Cocoanuts; by Love Happy. Harpo's boyish face is so wrinkled that he looks out of place in his traditional mask. The scene is further flawed when Harpo uses it as an opportunity to play a harp solo. In neither scene is Harpo demonstrating unrequited love; the two women are the films' love interests, and Harpo and his brothers are helping them. Instead, the two scenes demonstrate Harpo showing empathy to a grieving character. In The Cocoanuts. the scene goes so far as to achieve a feeling of sympathetic emotion in the audience, and Harpo is more like a Pierrot at that moment than any other time. A second demonstration of pathos occurs in Horsefeathers. but it is far less effective and seems obtrusive. After he and Chico have been locked in an upstairs room, Harpo panics and actually cries. The scene only lasts a few seconds, and the next time the action cuts to Harpo, he and Chico are busily sawing through the floor. The crying scene seems particularly puzzling. Does the director show Harpo crying to gain audience sympathy? If so, it must be asked if the crying scene is at all consistent with the character established in the rest of the 109 movie. Only moments before, Harpo was actively bouncing across the room, and in his quest to help Chico figure a way out, he managed to cut off their escape. The only answer can be that Harpo cries because he is a child, and, like other children, relies on tears when he runs out of alternatives. Harpo demonstrates no actual feelings in the tears because, after all, for whom could he be feeling? They are locked in the room when they attempt to kidnap the star players on a football team. There is no life and death situation, and Harpo is not demonstrating love or feelings for another character. The cry is a puzzling demonstration of his childlike inability to understand the world.

Harpo with Thalberg The Thalberg attempt at pathos may be explained in a few simple sentences. Instead of being a clown with no motivations, Harpo is transformed into a man with severe limitations who is often physically abused. Harpo seems out of place when given motivations; after all, how can the presence of a sprite-like child be justified in the opera or at the race track? Thalberg opens A Night at the Qper^ with a scene in which Harpo is beaten by the film's antagonist. The beating makes Harpo a sympathetic character in the eyes of the audience, but it does not necessarily achieve the element of pathos sought by Chaplin and the Pierrot. Harpo supplies reason for his superior to be angry since he is 110 wearing the man's costumes. As Harpo strips the offending costume, he reveals another, and then a third. The audience may feel sorry for him, but it is a feeling of bathos, that is, a "sentimentalized and highly personal identification along with a compulsive desire to express sadness, regardless of the seriousness of the situation" (Lyons). After all, audiences side with underdogs, and Harpo is obviously the smaller and less powerful of the two men in the scene. There is, however, no sense of humanity in the situation. When Groucho enters the scene, he demands, "Hey you big bully! What's the idea of picking on that little bully?" The words are profound; Harpo would be doing the same thing if he had the chance. In fact, when he manages to knock the man out, Harpo brings him to conciousness with smelling salts in order to knock him out again. Less attempt at pathos occurs in A Day at the Races. Harpo is a jockey this time, and he is beaten in the film's opening scene. There is little else in the film, however, to indicate Harpo's possession of any feelings at all. Harpo is once again treated like a child, and in this film more than perhaps any other, Harpo's inability to speak appears to be an affliction. The audience is given little clue as to Harpo's motivations, and in order to achieve a feeling of pathos, some sort of bond must be established. Ill Groucho stated that the Marx Brothers were little interested in achieving any sense of drama. In contrast, Chaplin made the achievement of pathos a goal. In a 1924 article, Chaplin makes a rather profound statement: "We, as audiences, like the tragic in the comic and not tragedy itself" (Koszarski, 105). He goes on to argue that slapstick is an art, just like tragedy, and it is structured so that a climax much be reached "through the channels of character, surprise and suspense." Chaplin identified a need to reach for something further and, therefore, sought to find the element of drama in his comedies.

Servitude Another attribute of the Pierrot is his low position in the pecking order and his special relationship with dogs because his life is little better than a dog's. Although both Chaplin and Harpo are often seen with animals, it is Chaplin who displays the most recognizable aspects of the Pierrot.

Chaplin Charlie is certainly the low member of the pecking order, and he often sleeps on the street with dogs and other animals. In A Dog's Life. Charlie and his dog. Scraps, sleep next to a fence and try to shelter themselves from the wind. He lives and eats like an animal in The Gold Rush, 112 and at one point is actually tied to a dog. Later, in a dancing scene, Charlie tries to hold up his pants with a rope that is, unknown to him, attached to a canine. In Caught in a Cabaret, Charlie is stuck with taking care of a dachshund. In The Champion, Charlie is aided by an animal when his bulldog jumps into the boxing ring and takes a bite from his opponent's buttocks. Even when he escapes the streets, Charlie demonstrates a relationship with animals and a less-than human aspect to his personality. In City Lights, he accidentally swallows a dog whistle, and, because of a serious case of the hiccups, he attracts a large group of dogs to a socialite party. When Charlie masquerades as a rich man, he often gives himself away by scavenging like an animal. In City Lights. he jumps out of a limousine and beats a bum to a cigar butt on the street. In The Pilgrim, he steals a liquor bottle from a fellow "preacher" and almost gets caught when the bottle breaks in his pocket. In A Dog's Life, he becomes a dog stealing food when he stuffs pastries in his mouth each time the shop owner turns his back. Finally, in The Immigrant and as the Jewish barber in The Great Dictator. Charlie and the people around him are herded like cattle in their respective worlds. Charlie shares a dog's life because he is constantly hungry and must scavenge for food; in only a few instances is Charlie not faced with a daily struggle to eat, even when 113 he is involved with a love interest. In The Immigrani-, Charlie gives money to Edna Purviance and her mother, who have just been robbed. By doing so he demonstrates a genuine concern which, of course, is hidden from Edna and the other characters around her. Charlie attempts to appear without needs, but by giving away the money, he robs himself of a meal. Later, upon meeting Edna in a restaurant, Charlie orders beans and coffee and must find a way to pay for it. When an artist offers to pay, Charlie saves his own face by refusing the payment, and by doing so, he almost loses his opportunity to get out of the problem. This action is an excellent example of Charlie's ability to remain stoic in the face of misery. He maintains a serious face without showing others his feelings.

Harpo Harpo is especially fond of horses, but he is often pictured with dogs. In Horsefeathers, Harpo plays a dog catcher, and there is distinct animal imagery in the titles of Animal Crackers. Duck Soup. Horsefeathers, and Monkey Business. Harpo does not, however, live like a dog. He certainly sleeps a lot, but he rarely sleeps outside. Harpo comes out of a bed in the wall in The Big Store; he sleeps in a trunk in A Night at the Opera; and he emerges from a kippered herring barrel in Monkey Business. He does not live on the street, and he appears more like a sprite than a 114 bum. Harpo comes out of nowhere and returns to nowhere. The audience is not given a chance to see how he lives or to understand his origins. Harpo is, therefore, not low in the pecking order because the pecking order is not displayed. Neither is he low in the pecking order when relating to his brothers. Their odd relationship concerns working as a team to devastate the social order.

Stoicism in the Face of Misery Chaplin is unique in his display of this special trait of the Pierrot. On the rare occasion that Harpo is miserable, he quickly turns the situation around. In short, Charlie the Tramp is long-suffering, but Harpo suffers little because he does not seem to understand the world.

Chaplin City Lights is an outstanding example of Charlie's being anesthetized to sensitivity by pretending to have no feelings. A blind flower girl mistakes Charlie for a rich man and, when he realizes that she cannot see, Charlie takes up the masquerade. After a series of sacrifices (including losing his underwear when a thread from his boxer shorts gets caught in the girl's ball of yarn), Charlie learns that the girl and her mother will be evicted if they cannot pay their past-due rent. Charlie insists that the money means nothing, snapping his fingers in the air as a symbol of how 115 simply he can take care of it. He realizes, however, that paying the bill will take a great deal of sacrifice, and, by pretending to be without feeling, he draws attention away from the sacrifice he will make. This stoicism in the face of misery is repeated in several films, and Charlie is often willing to sacrifice himself, even though he is often unwilling to reveal his true feelings. In Modern Times, Charlie risks prison to order to take care of Paulette Goddard. In The Kid, he works to raise a child, even though he obviously cannot support it. In several other films, Charlie denies his past and actually tries to reform himself because of love. In The Tramp, Charlie fights off robbers and even gives money back to Edna after stealing it. In Easy Street, he joins a church out of love for Edna and actually turns the town around after managing to outwit local tyrant, Eric Campbell. In The Adventurer, he is an escaped convict who rescues Edna Purviance and her mother from drowning, and makes a poor attempt to fit into their society. In The Pilgrim, Charlie, the escaped convict beats another convict away from Edna's home and returns stolen money, even though he knows it may result in his being arrested. In each of these instances, Charlie refuses to take credit for what he has done. In fact, Charlie never gets full credit for anything, yet he preserves the illusion of 116 living without pain or care. The Tramp established the image of Charlie walking dejectedly off into the sunset. Just before the screen irises out, however, Charlie regains a bit of energy in his gait, and he finds hope for the future. This glimmer of hope is present in all of the films with Charlie the Tramp; even though he does not win the day, Charlie will come back again. After Chaplin dropped Charlie as a character, Calvero in Limelight actually received recognition for what he had done. Unlike any of his previous films, Chaplin's character died at the end, content that his life had actually meant something. Ironically, he does not get to see the girl dance before he dies.

Harpo

In order to be stoic in the face of misery, one must first be miserable. In his childlike approach to life, Harpo cannot show real emotion, displaying instead childlish outbursts of sheer joy and complete disgust. The beating scenes in A Day at the Races and A Night at the Opera show a vulnerable Harpo; however, after the beatings are finished, Harpo returns to being childish and hyperactive. The unusual crying scene in Horsefeathers is the closest Harpo comes to displaying a state of misery, and his tears do not betray any sense of stoicism. Harpo quickly forgets his misery when he and Chico solve the situation. Although Harpo never gets the women he is chasing, one must assume 117 that he would not know what to do if he caught them. The chase is a game, not a result of any misery or loneliness on Harpo's part. Harpo does not show stoicism in the face of trouble in any Marx Brothers' film. With the exception of the three examples of pathos, Harpo rarely seems to understand what is happening around him. Charlie is an adult; he faces trouble and selflessly gives, even when he cannot afford to do so. Harpo is incapable of doing such things; he often joins causes simply because they are interesting (Duck Soup^, and his approach to life is childish and irresponsible. Harpo displays the opposite of stoicism in the face of danger. He is jovial at all times, even without reason. In Love Happy, Harpo is the most popular figure in the theater because he has taken it upon himself to steal food in order to feed the young actors in the company. Most of the time, however, Harpo steals as a game, just as he chases women and wreaks havoc for the sake of a game. While Chaplin steals in order to feed himself, Harpo steals for the sheer joy of stealing. He does not discriminate in his victims; everyone from Groucho and Chico to Margaret Dumont is victim to his

thievery. Several instances apart from Love Happy may be identified in which Harpo commits theft to help others. He and Chico steal a painting and replace it with a duplicate in T^^e Cocoanuts in order to help a young artist get a 118 break. His antics at the end of A Night at the Opera are intended to give a young singer the opportunity to perform. Harpo is, however, just as likely to steal out of mischievousness. The celebrated mirror scene in Duck Soup occurs because Harpo and Chico, working as spies, attempt to steal military documents from Groucho. The opening sequence of At the Circus involves Harpo and Chico robbing Groucho of every penny he has in order to gain the money for a train ticket. In addition, one of Harpo's most famous moments occurs in The Cocoanuts. when an officer shakes his hand and a bundle of knives cascades to the ground. However, his thievery may not be equated with stoicism in the face of misery. Instead, it is an example of his childish approach to the world.

Suicidal Tendencies The Pierrot displays a sadness that often leads him to plan his own demise. Neither Chaplin nor Harpo ever commit suicide, but a distinct sadness may be found in Charlie the Tramp that is not evident in Harpo.

Chaplin Charlie's walk into the sunset in The Tramp first has an appearance of despair, but soon it lightens in hope. In a similar situation in Sunnyside, Charlie throws himself in front of a car only to wake up and realize that he is 119 dreaming. Constance Kuriyama suggests that the scene is far too realistic, and that the attempted suicide has undertones of what was happening at the time in Charlie's life. The feeling of despair in Charlie's character may be equated with the establishment of pathos. Charlie does, however, retain a hope for tomorrow, thus confirming his already- established bond with the common man. Chaplin's supporting characters often contemplate suicide. The millionaire in City Lights actually tries to drown himself and, through a series of blunders, nearly drowns Charlie in the process.

Harpo In contrast, Harpo occasionally makes a gesture suggesting suicide, but the gestures cannot be taken seriously. For instance, in Go West, when Chico asks Harpo what they should do now, Harpo gestures suicide. Chico immediately dismisses the idea, and the two go on planning. In his Saturday Evening Post article on Minnie Marx, "Mother of a Two-A-Day," Alexander Woollcott describes the "infinite sadness" in the eyes of Charlie Chaplin's Little Tramp. In the case of the Marx Brothers, writes Woollcott, "sympathy would be wasted utterly. For their days—especially their darkest days—have been full of crazy laughter" (109). The suicidal Pierrot is, therefore, not applicable to Harpo. 120 Mime Perhaps the most important aspect of the Pierrot that may be applied to both Harpo and Chaplin is the use of mime. Both men developed silent characters, but they evolved in unique manners and for different reasons. It has been established that the Pierrot evolved into a mime as the need for verbal language became less and less important. This quality may be more easily attributed to Harpo than to Chaplin. The true mime, however, is certainly Chaplin, and the use of mime as an artistic expression is more indicative of Chaplin than Harpo.

Chaplin Chaplin began his career on the London Music Hall stage, and his various autobiographies document several different versions of his acts. His acts with the Karno company involved a great deal of pantomime. In The Mumming Birds (described in McCabe's book, Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy). Chaplin pantomimed a drunk arriving at the theatre. His experience with the Karno troupe allowed him to perfect the art of pantomime through practice and repetition. He also spoke on stage, and the Music Hall scenes in Limelight give a clue as to possible musical acts in which he participated. When Chaplin signed a contract to do film, however, he did not have the luxury of using sound, and he created Charlie as a character for silent film. Whatever 121 characters may have influenced his creation of Charlie the Tramp, it is quite evident that Chaplin created the character specifically for his new career. Like the Pierrot, Chaplin was highly adaptive, and he anticipated how his character might need to evolve in order to be accepted in the future. In a 1924 article entitled, "Can Art Be Popular," Chaplin explains how a film comedian must be willing to change with the times.

The films can be preserved longer than plays on the stage, but it is a good deal of a question whether people one hundred years from now will care to look at the pictures of the present day. We laugh at the films that were done fifteen years ago, but add fifty years to their life and how can we tell that someone, looking at them, might fail to recognize any difference between those that we now think are foolish and those that we are working on seriously this month to release two or three months hence. (Koszarski, 107-108)

Chaplin had an eye fixed upon the future as he developed Charlie. Two things are important about Chaplin's use of pantomime: first, he never intended Charlie to appear in sound film because, when he finally made the conversion to sound, he retired Charlie and developed new characters; and second, his experimental technique evolved through his career, and he mimed in order to tell a story 122 rather than to indicate an emotion or an object. Biographer David Robinson clarifies Chaplin's use of mime; Keystone comedy was created from without; anecdote and situation were explained in pantomime and gesture. Chaplin's comedy was created from within. What the audience saw in him was the expression of thoughts and feelings, and the comedy lay in the relation of those thoughts and feelings to the things that happened around him. (113)

Harpo's use of mime involved pantomime and gesture, just like the Keystone comedians'. He indicated emotion by displaying a wide smile or an evil grin. Charlie the Tramp did not speak because there was no need to speak. He could use his body to physically communicate anything he had to say. Harpo's lack of speech was never fully defined. It changed during the course of his career, and as directors and producers attempted to make him a more sympathetic character, Harpo took on the appearance of a mute rather than that of a mime. Harpo and Chaplin take their style of miming to opposite extremes. Chaplin expresses the inner emotions, and Harpo indicates broad, sweeping thoughts and gestures. Although not all of the descriptions of Chaplin's Music Hall career are reliable, a variation of one of his most popular acts was adapted to film in A Night at the Show (1915). This 20-minute short film is a series of stunts and pratfalls connected with two drunks attending a performance 123 of the Music Hall. The film is considerably different than the stage play; however, it demonstrates Chaplin's style and approach to stage pantomime. The existence of the film shows that Chaplin was willing to go back to his past and rework old gags and stories. This technique became a habit, and by the end of his career, Chaplin often incorporated successful gags or old ideas in new material. Chaplin, furthermore, used pantomime to create the entire world in his films. Unlike Harpo, who was the only nonspeaking character in the Marx Brothers' movies, Chaplin existed in a world without sound, and he used actions to tell stories. His refusal to enter the sound-film era was based on his belief that pantomime is a universal means of expression. In his 1931 article, "Pantomime and Comedy," Chaplin predicted that films would eventually return to the use of pantomime. Silent comedy is more satisfying entertainment for the masses than talking comedy, because most comedy depends on swiftness of action, and an event can happen and be laughed at before it can be told in words. Of course, pantomime is invaluable in drama, too, because it serves to effect the gradual transition from farce to pathos or from comedy to tragedy much more smoothly and with less effort than speech can ever do. (64)

Harpo In contrast to Chaplin's using silence as an expressive tool, Harpo adopted his silent character because nothing else seemed to work for him. He chronicles the team's early 124 development in Chapters 7 and 8 of Harpo Speaks. Harpo became an actor when his mother, Minnie, demanded he leave a job and join the musical review, "The Four Nightingales." Intended to be a showcase for Groucho's singing voice, the act matched Groucho, Gummo, and Harpo with a young female singer whom Harpo described as a nymphomaniac with a crossed eye and a voice that began in one key and ended in the other. Chico later joined the act, and Uncle Al Shean wrote them a skit called School Days. A variation of a popular vaudeville routine. School Days required the brothers to draw highly exaggerated characters, often using immigrant accents as a gimmick. Groucho played a German teacher, and Harpo played an Irish idiot based on a traditional character named Patsy Brannigan. Harpo's voice was weak, and he could not keep up with the other actors, but the act was so successful that Shean wrote them another skit. Home Again would be much less musical review and more clowning around for the comedy team, but Harpo had a problem: It all sounded great to me except for one thing; Uncle Al didn't write a single line for me. I protested. Uncle Al said I could add a wonderful contrast to the act if I played in pantomime. The hell with that. I would ad lib all the lines I wanted to, I said. (121)

Becoming a mime was, therefore, not Harpo's choice, and he did not understand Al Shean's idea. It may be argued that the Harpo Marx on the movie screen is simply a mime version of the Patsy Brannigan character. Since Brannigan 125 was already well-established by the time Harpo began playing him, a possible attempt may be made to trace the character's roots to the Commedia dell'Arte. Brannigan has the attributes of many zanni characters, and he often serves as a comic rube. Harpo describes his Patsy Brannigan costume in detail in Harpo Speaks; Minnie got out the wig she'd made up for Jenny . . . and dyed the wig red for me. She sewed bright patches onto my traveling pants, which were pretty well shot anyway, and I used a piece of rope for a suspender. . . For a final touch before going onstage, I reddened my ears, painted on some freckles and blacked out three of my front teeth. (108)

Harpo did not keep the blacked-out teeth, but he did keep the red wig when he became a mime. His description of Patsy Brannigan may also be compared with the "Toby" character in Texas Tent Shows during the early part of the twentieth century. Harpo chronicles playing in small Texas towns during the Marx Brothers' vaudeville tours, and it is possible that Texas audiences during the late teens saw two different versions of what would become Harpo Marx. Clifford Ashby and Suzanne May describe Toby as having "woolly chaps, freckles, blacked-out-teeth and a silly-kid grin" (39). Neil Schaffner, who made a career out of playing Toby, writes that behind the "unsophisticated manner" of Toby there lurked "deep currents of native wit, of cunning and resourcefulness" (2). Given the Harlequin's 126 hidden wit, it is possible that Harpo, Toby, and Patsy Brannigan all came from the same archetypal character. Toby was not always a happy character, and he occasionally suffered unrequited love like the Pierrot. Ashby and May interviewed Mary Roberts, who recalled an occasional element of pathos in the Texas Tent Shows: "Toby made you laugh at the start of the play but toward the end when he lost the beautiful girl to the handsome leading man only a very cold heart would have left the theater dry-eyed" (73). Perhaps Patsy Brannigan and the Texas Toby are variations on the Commedia Harlequin and the Pierrot. Harpo's Patsy Brannigan became unique to him when he gave up speaking and became a mime. The character was completed one evening in San Francisco when Harpo was caught in a rainstorm and bought an old raincoat that fell apart at the seams. It soon found use on the stage because "it was perfect with my battered plug hat, ratty wig, and underslung pants with the clothesline belt" (133). Unlike Chaplin, Harpo quit speaking on the stage and brought a silent character to film. He did not, however, study mime, and in his autobiography Harpo readily admits to having no talent. Elements of mime are, instead, used to indicate emotions and to complement Chico's verbal puns. The silent character evolved because he was unable to keep up vocally with the other actors, and, as Harpo applied more 127 and more of his own personality to the character, he discovered gags and miming movements that worked as a part of the act.

Harpo's obsession with the harp was similar to the development of his stage character; he decided one day that he wanted to become a harpist and taught himself to play. Although he could not read a note of music, he somehow plucked strings and experimented with the instrument until he was able to play songs. During adulthood he accidentally discovered he that he held the instrument on the wrong side. His discovery was not the result of a music lesson; Harpo happened to see a figurine of an angel playing a harp. In recounting his first music lesson, Harpo writes that a famed musician listened to him play and, when Harpo asked for his advice, told Harpo to be quiet and continue playing. Harpo never went back because he refused to pay money to play for someone else. The harp became Harpo's link to acting. He so desired to learn to play that he taught himself. Although the form and technique are, according to experts, incorrect, Harpo nevertheless got a sound from the harp and accomplished his goal. Likewise, without formal training of any kind and with only the push of Mother Minnie and Al Shean, the Marx Brothers attacked the stage the only way they knew how—in an unprecedented manner defying theatrical conventions and doing whatever worked. 128

Summary Both Harpo and Chaplin display several elements of the Pierrot, but it is clear that Chaplin more closely to resembles a Pierrot character than Harpo. Chaplin displayed emotions to the audience, but he kept other characters from knowing his inner thoughts. He used Pierrot makeup and worked as a mime in order to express inner emotion. Finally, he achieved an element of pathos within his productions because he made the audience feel for the universal plight of Charlie. Maurice Sand describes the difference between the Harlequin and the Pierrot in terms of their universality. The original character of Harlequin after it had been transformed by Domenico was bound to, and did, go out of fashion. Wit is a thing relative to every epoch and to every environment; the jests of that comedian do not now always seem witty to us; among those which have been collected it is impossible to cite more than a certain number. Pierrot, however, might be cited in full; for he exists, and always will exist, on the stage of life itself. (Sand 211) Sand's words express the universality and durability of Chaplin as a Pierrot. Harpo, however, certainly seems to have lasted longer than the normal Harlequin, and his humor has not gone completely out of fashion. Perhaps this is due to his incorporation of the Pierrot-like use of mime. An element of the Harlequin and the Pierrot exists in both men; however, Harpo Marx never fully developed the aspects of the 129 Pierrot, and Charlie Chaplin definitely progressed past the playfulness of the Harlequin. CHAPTER V THE MARX BROTHERS AND THE THEATER OF CRUELTY: UNIQUE SURREALISM OR VAUDEVILLIAN STYLE?

Critics apply theory to Marx Brothers' films, but the applications are often erroneous and forced. A review of major lines of Marx Brothers' criticism demonstrates that the team cannot be categorized. Traditional criticism of the Marx Brothers does not stand up to scrutiny, and no evidence exists that the Marx Brothers attempted to conform to any known theory or to produce anything more than comedy. In contrast to Chaplin, the Marx Brothers focused on comedy for the sake of comedy, and they were deeply influenced by the Hollywood studio system of which they were a part. This chapter will identify the two major schools of Marx Brothers' criticism and then demonstrate that the team is a cinematic manifestation of vaudevillian comedy. Antoinin Artaud himself singled out the Marx Brothers and their physical comedy as being representative of his ideas. He said that it was anarchistic and surrealistic, claiming that "if there is a definite characteristic, a distinct poetic state of mind that can be called surrealism. Animal Crackers participated in that state altogether" (142). Although there has been a great deal of criticism attempting to prove or disprove the validity of Artaud's labeling the Marx Brothers as "surrealistic," no critic has

130 131 taken a detailed approach in examining Harpo in the context of Artaud's actual ideas. Artaud's Theater of Cruelty often consists of no more than a few vague comments and obscure passages in The Theatre and its Double, but the traits Artaud identified in the Marx Brother films, and especially in the two movies he specifically criticized. Animal Crackers and Monkey Business, may be examined. The scholarship on the Marx Brothers follows two lines of thought. First, and most prevalent during their lifetimes, is the belief that before meeting Irving Thalberg, the team dabbled in the surreal and took a misguided tour through the realms of comedy. The "Thalberg critics" believe that the death of Irving Thalberg destroyed the Marx Brothers' careers and that they reached the height of their talent during the time they worked at Metro- Goldwyn-Mayer. Zimmerman and Goldblatt write that Thalberg "replaced the wild, reckless terrain of the old films with a beautifully ordered garden of romance, music and recognizable plot" (104). Eyles admits a validity to what the brothers did before Thalberg and concedes that the producer imposed major changes on their characters. Nevertheless, Eyles claims that "few will hold it (A Night at the Opera) in less than high esteem" (108). The second line of criticism deals with Artaud; that is, "Artaudian" critics see the brothers as surrealistic anarchists and point fingers at Thalberg for having taken 132 the team offtrack. The Artaudians believe that the movies before Thalberg are rich with an element of rebellion against the establishment, and they see the basis of the team's humor in their ability to tear down the social mores and values that existed in American society during the early part of the century. Unfortunately, although Artaud's theories are often studied in conjunction with the brothers, few "Artaudian" critics have applied Artaudian ideas other than the sweeping term "anarchy" directly to the Marx Brothers' work.

Thalbergian Criticism Thalberg and the Marx Brothers In order to analyze the significance of Thalberg criticism, one must understand exactly what Thalberg did. First, in contrast to Chaplin's evolution from commedia technique into a mixture of comedy and pathos by use of Meyerholdian Biomechanical control of the body, the Marx Brothers made little attempt to incorporate dramatic themes in their films. The turning point of their careers came in 1935, when Irving Thalberg, producer at MGM, suggested that the 1933 flop. Duck SOUP, was a victim of the team's "building insanity on insanity." Thalberg produced the two most financially successful Marx films, A Night at the Opera and A Day at the Races, by using a formula in which the team's antics were justified by a complex story and . 133 character development. In other words, Thalberg attempted to bring a human dimension to the Marx personifications, and he built a sane, real world in which they existed. Included in this "real world" were attempts to paint three-dimensional characters and to make the brothers a part of "reality." Adamson explains that in the MGM films "Harpo can never step outside the bounds of reality anymore, for one example; he may use an ax for a job as simple as slicing salami, but now it must be lying handily on a nearby barrel, not concealed mysteriously on his person" (282). Furthermore, the Harpo character was made into a mute idiot, and Thalberg evoked audience sympathy for the character by having him abused physically. In A Night at the Opera, Harpo plays the valet to the antagonist, Lasspari. Harpo's opening sequence shows him trying on Lasspari's costumes and clowning in front of a mirror. This time, unlike the earlier Marx Brothers films, Harpo is caught and beaten for misbehaving. The beating scene is twofold: first, it evokes hatred and mistrust of Lasspari; second, and more important, it evokes pathos and sympathy for Harpo. The formula was so successful that it was used again in A Day at the Races. By the last Marx Brothers film. Love Happy, beating Harpo had become a cliche. In the case of A Night at the Opera, however, the beating scene evoked sympathy and moved the brothers closer to an element of drama within their comedy. In his review 134 of A Night at the Opera, Clifton Fadiman identifies the Thalberg influence on Harpo as "combined pathos and humor" that borders on "Chaplinesque." Fadiman believed Harpo should leave the act and accept more Chaplinesque projects, arguing that, if Harpo did not believe that "everything depends on a proper balance among three brothers, (he) could develop into one of the greatest clowns in the entire history of entertainment" (38). It is ironic that A Night at the Opera marked the first time the "three brothers" performed alone, because Zeppo quit the act between Duck Soup and A Night at the Opera. Fadiman evidently did not consider Zeppo a part of the "proper balance."

The Marx Brothers after Thalberg The element of pathos disappeared when Thalberg died and the brothers signed with RKO to film the already successful stage play. Room Service. Zeppo worked as their agent in an attempt to secure "a good story" because of the continual complaint that their films suffered from weak plots. Several years later in reviewing A Night in Casablanca, Rowland quipped; There can scarcely be too much plot for the Marx Brothers; script writers may build skyscrapers of plots; the Brothers will destroy them. . . (267). In the case of Room Service, however, it seemed that there was too much plot, as Ryskind's adaptation of the stage play did not provide the team with any justification 135 for their insane characters, nor did it design gags with the Marx Brothers in mind. Chico later blamed the failure of Room Service on the attempt to stretch their styles; after all, it was the first (and only) time that they had ever played characters not written specifically for them. As most of the critics suggested, Groucho, Harpo, and Chico were unable to impose their screen personalities on the fully developed characters in the film. Room Service also marked their break with MGM studios, and its weaknesses emphasized the team's vulnerability. Without good writers and gags designed for their already-established characters, the Marx Brothers seemed mediocre at best. After Room Service, the team's success dwindled, and they accepted a variety of projects that most critics agreed were beneath their talents. The films after Room Service never returned the team to their surrealistic world, and instead, the brothers became caught in a series of scripts that simply rehashed old routines and lazzi. In terms of financial success, the Marx Brothers' careers may be displayed like an Aristotilian model for plotting the play; after reaching a climax in A Night at the Opera and A Day at the Races, the team died a long, slow death in a series of films that may only be described as a coda to their earlier work. 136 The Unique Style of the Marx Brothers Dependence on Writers Although Charlie Chaplin also reached a peak of financial success and continued his experimentation with style throughout his career, the difference between the careers of the Marx Brothers and Chaplin may be reduced to a question of artistic control. Critic Andrew Sarris says that the Marx Brothers did not reach Chaplin's success because of their "failure to achieve the degree of production control held by Chaplin throughout his career" (247). Although Chaplin made changes in style from the silent shorts to Modern Times to his first "talkie," The Great Dictator, and beyond, the changes were Chaplin's own deliberate choices as a director, and he may be credited or blamed for the outcome. In the case of the Marx Brothers, their "surrealistic" beginning was often controlled by the producer and the playwright. It gave way to Thalberg's element of "pathos" and then deteriorated into a series of attempts to regain the edge of the insanity they once achieved. In his review of A Night in Casablanca. Richard Rowland writes, "Charlie Chaplin's films are escape literature which does not escape . . . But the Marx Brothers offer a pure escape; they do not falsify the world. . . but they show us another world, a moon world which illuminates our own, revealing our familiar surroundings as so much nonsense" (268-269). In other words, Chaplin's tramp 137 existed as a three-dimensional character in a real world, but the Marx Brothers, especially in their pre-Thalberg years, provided pure escapism from any sense of reality.

Improvisation

The Marx dependence on writers and directors must be contrasted with the folk tales about their improvisation. Evidence shows that they improvised at various times; all the biographers recount some variation on the story of George S. Kaufman's stopping a conversation because he "thought he heard an original line in the script." Adamson quotes director Robert Pirosh as saying that a lot of what went on screen was their material. Screenwriter Harry Ruby told him, "Sometimes you'd walk in and they were doing something you didn't even write!" (169). Kitty Carlisle recounts how Groucho went back and forth in "deadly earnest" between actors, trying out new gags and asking, "Is this funny?" (Zimmerman and Goldblatt, 105). Harpo tells several stories in his autobiography about the brothers throwing gags into already existing material. Writing about the Broadway production of Cocoanuts, Harpo explains, "We never did stop adlibbing. No two performances were ever quite the same" (190). He goes on to tell about playing practical jokes on Groucho during the run of Cocoanuts. What Harpo is calling ad-libbing in this passage can hardly be labeled creative improvisation. It is, instead, members of a comedy 138 team playing tricks on each other and then digging themselves out of embarrassing situations. The Harpo autobiography indicates that most of the improvisation took place during the early years of the act, when Minnie insisted that they remain a singing team, and the brothers wanted to branch into comedy. Minnie stood backstage whenever the act got too rowdy and whispered "Greenbaum!" "Greenbaum" was, of course, the name of their landlord, and paying rent was the paramount concern for the developing young team. Nevertheless, the overall evidence suggests that the "improvisations" did not occur often, even when the team was working on stage. By the time they got to Hollywood and made films, improvisation was virtually non-existent. During the filming of the early works, the cameramen laughed so hard during the first takes that it took several cuts before the routine could be completed without interruption. What chance there might be at improvisation disappeared when the brothers were asked to show the cameramen exactly what they were going to do so there would be no laughing on the set when the scenes were actually filmed. In an interview with Robert Altman and a series of directors, Groucho explained that they did not need to try a lot of new lines during the early films because "we had Kaufman and Ryskind. I added stuff to it, but every first-class comedian is 139 supposed to be able to do that. Otherwise you're just a schlump, you're not a comedian" (13). In other words, it is the duty of every comedian, and especially any comedian who began on the vaudeville stage, to be able to add punch lines or improvise according to a given situation. The evidence suggests that the improvisation was limited to one-liners and occasional gags, and the brothers did not create their own material, as it is popularly told. Therefore, the "anarchy" inherent in the original Marx stage shows and the early films was a result of the direction and screenwriting rather than the team's improvisational skills. Writer Morrie Ryskind confirms the lack of improvisation despite the appearance of spontaneity. In an interview for Joe Adamson's documentary. The Marx Brothers in a Nutshell, Ryskind says that his daughter read the script Animal Crackers before a performance. After the show she told him, "If I hadn't read that script, I would have sworn Groucho was making up every word himself. That's how spontaneous he could be."

Improvisation through Performance Irving Thalberg encouraged an evolution of scenes before the filming. Thalberg booked a series of stage tours and allowed the brothers to take scenes from A Night at the Opera and A Day at the Races before live audiences in order to try new gags. Although the brothers often used new 140 material during this tour, no evidence exists that they actually improvised. To the contrary. Variety magazine's article, "Marx Brothers Use 11 Different Acts . . .," explains that the brothers "tried out practically everything being considered for their forthcoming Metro picture" and were being handed new material so quickly that "they were being coached from the wings" (Variety, August 26, 1936). Thalberg allowed them to experiment with variations of scenes as if they were filming a Vaudevillian routine that, through tiny changes over a long period of time, was transformed into a guaranteed audience-pleaser. The significance of the lack of improvisation is two- stemmed; first, Sarris' suggestion that the Marx Brothers were dependent on the filmmakers (and consequently had little to do with what actually went into the script or production) was valid; and second, Thalberg's allowing the brothers to develop scenes on stage before they were filmed should have given them a chance to draw closer to their "surrealistic anarchy" rather than moving away from it. After all, taking the show on the road and trying acts in front of audiences most closely resembled the manner in which the Marx Brothers started their careers. The evidence instead suggests that the vaudeville acts were not actually improvised either. After all, the brothers began with a singing routine, and Harpo's autobiographical accounts of improvisation indicate that they threw in jokes or gags when 141 they were supposed to be singing. When Uncle Al Shean wrote the team a new skit, a variation on an already successful vaudeville act called Fun in Hi Skule, the team was dependent on his script, and there is very little evidence that they actually improvised the dialogue. It seems, therefore, natural that Thalberg's allowing the brothers to tour the stage circuit with an already-prepared script in order to perfect the timing of the dialogue was simply a continuation of what the brothers had been doing during their Vaudevillian careers through Animal Crackers. In addition, an argument may be made against the premise that Thalberg imposed any more qualities on the Marx characters than his predecessors. Chaplin's work was consistently representative of his own ideas, for he usually wrote the script and directed himself as well as the ensemble. The Marx Brothers were dependent on a parade of gag writers to help them create new lazzi and a director to string the gags together. In the case of Duck Soup, former Laurel and Hardy director Leo McCarey went so far as imposing a routine originally performed by Laurel and Hardy on a Marx Brothers' script. The routine (in which Groucho, Harpo, and Chico all dress as Groucho and mirror each other) is often considered one of the team's greatest scenes. Critic Charles Silver calls it "surreal visual madness with no counterpart in any other Marx film" (9). Groucho describes it as a "classic German act" that McCarey wanted 142 to use for years. "Did you rehearse it to the point of perfection?" asked interviewer Michael Goodwin. "No," replied Groucho, "we rehearsed it one Saturday morning . . . for about an hour and a half" (Altman et al., 16). In an interview for the Disney Channel film. The Marx Brothers' Lost Footage, Harpo's son. Bill, explains that nobody could write for Harpo. "The script would read, ^Harpo does something funny,'" he explained, telling how the writers could simply set up a situation for Harpo and then ask him to respond physically. The writers did, however, provide him with suggested gags. For instance, silent screen star Buster Keaton was employed by the brothers after Keaton's own film career went sour. An oft-repeated anecdote concerning Keaton and his writing was his design of a physical gag for Harpo to use in At the Circus involving a camel and a piece of hay. When Harpo tossed the hay onto the camel's back, the camel trainer, who happened to be standing on the other side of the camel, bent down to strike a match, and the camel bends with him. When Harpo picked the hay back up, the camel got back onto its feet (Adamson 352). This visual gag was not appropriate for the "mask" Harpo had constructed and was dismissed by the brothers as being no good. The evidence, therefore, suggests that the Marx Brothers had enough power to dismiss directors or gag writers who did not conform to their style of humor. The evidence also suggests that Thalberg imposed no more 143 preconceived ideas than any other producer, director or writer who worked with the Marx Brothers.

Artaudian Criticism Surrealistic Anarchists It is the conception of Thalberg as a destroyer of surrealism that drives the second line of Marx Brothers criticism, the "Artaud" critics. This group uses Artaud's terminology as a basis of their criticism, defining the Marx Brothers as "social satirists" and "surrealistic anarchists." They believe that Thalberg imposed too many rules on the Marx Brothers and tried to change their style to fit his own. They furthermore believe the Thalberg films changed the very makeup of the three Marx masks by imposing the elements of pathos. In his book, Groucho. Harpo. Chico and Sometimes Zeppo. Joe Adamson explains the Artaudian line of thinking: In one sense. Night at the Opera is Marxist anarchy in its most perfect form. In another sense, how the hell do you get anarchy into a form? To Marx Brothers purists, the whole idea of this film has grown to be palpable anathema. This guy Irving Thalberg had profaned their nothing-sacredness! (Adamson, 300)

In his reference to anarchy, Adamson is referring to the standard scholarly approach that links the Marx Brothers to Artaud by labeling them "surrealistic anarchists." 144 Artaud made a lengthy statement concerning the Marx Brothers as artists, claiming that they were misinterpreted by the American public.

If Americans, to whose spirit this genre of film belongs, wish to take these films in a merely humorous sense, confining the material of humor to the easy comic margins of the meaning of the word, so much the worse for them; but that will not prevent us fromm considering the conclusion of Monkey Business as a hymn to anarchy and wholehearted revolt, this ending that puts the bawling of the calf on the same intellectual level and gives it the same quality of meaningful suffering as the scream of a frightened woman, this ending that shows, in the shadows of a dirty barn, two lecherous servants freely pawing the naked shoulders of their hysterical master, all amidst the intoxication— which is intellectual as well—of the Marx Brothers' pirouettes. (144) In his outstanding work on early film comedy. What Made Pistachio Nuts? Early Sound Comedy and the vaudeville Aesthetic, Henry Jenkins lumps all "Marxian" criticism into one category— anarchic. Citing Durgnat, Weales, Warshaw, Mast, and a host of film critics, Jenkins refers to the "metaphor of anarchy" with which the Brothers are viewed, allowing the critic to draw parallels between the Marxian "formal and thematic structures." In describing the criticism of Gerald Weales, Jenkins paraphrases the argument as "the suspension of formal and social convention within the Marx Brothers' comedies allows us to experience these films in a more "impulsive" fashion, frees us from the demand of rational thought, and positions us outside of culture; the spectators themselves become anarchists. . ." 145 (8). It is this suspension of belief in order to satirize society that dominates Marxian criticism, and few critics, despite their acceptance or rejection of the Irving Thalberg work, step away from that idea. Jenkins is important to this study because he calls attention to the general trend. Attempting to redefine early sound comedy as being "Anarchistic rather than Anarchic," it is Jenkin's thesis that "anarchistic comedy emerged from the classical Hollywood cinema's attempt to assimilate the vaudeville aesthetic" (24), claiming that the traditional interpretations of the comics are so metaphorical as to become cliche. Jenkin's vaudeville aesthetic is, furthermore, representative of the immigrant worker's attempt to assimilate into the American culture. For Jenkins, the Marx Brothers and early film comedians are simply continuations of the vaudeville aesthetic, and the "anarchy" is a direct result of the Vaudevillian immigrant's attempt to fit into American society. This idea may be related to John Rudlin's explanation for the origin of the Commedia zanni. In his work, Commedia dell'Arte: An Actor's Handbook. Rudlin equates the zanni with the Bergamase "migrant worker" who came down out of the hills and attempted to find work in the city (67-68). 146 Anarchists or Vaudevillians? Perhaps the most important thing that Jenkins discovered was the link between the Marx Brothers as a stage team and their work on film. Jenkins suggests that the team and others like it were all part of the American transition of comedy from vaudeville to the big screen. Critic William Donnelly agrees. He cites Artuad's surrealistic label as being a misinterpretation "through the eyes of one whose native language is not English." Donnelly sees the Marx Brothers' humor as being "the comedy of articulation," (9), thus rendering Artaud's criticism as inept as Chico's misinterpretations of Groucho's nonsensical commentary. For this dissertation, the idea of transforming the Marx Brothers' comedy from vaudeville to film may be taken a step further, suggesting that the Brothers used the stage as a workshop, much like Charlie Chaplin's silent films were a workshop for the development of character. In both cases, the performers found archetypal characters and placed them in comic situations. In the case of Chaplin, it seems that there was a great deal more improvisation in the traditional sense of the word. Although he worked out every movement in detail before performing it on film, Chaplin used the silent shorts as a method of exploring the physical lazzi. The characters, situations, and ideas were all Chaplin's. The Marx Brothers also explored physical lazzi, but they were 147 dependent on a team of writers to help them develop the lazzi and place them in the proper situation.

Vaudeville and the American Immigrant It has been the fashion of critics to label the Marx Brothers as anarchists because of their "revolt" against society. As Jenkins and other critics have begun to theorize, the Marx humor is not necessarily based on destruction of societal norms—it just happens that society is the most convenient thing to get in their way. Jenkins attributes the "anarchy" to the integration of vaudeville with talking pictures and the subsequent attempt of the immigrant to become a part of America. If viewed in this context, the Marx Brothers are no longer unique in their anarchy but are, instead, representative of the Vaudevillian comedians who made the transition from the stage to film. In a sense, therefore, the Marx Brothers' attempt to tear down social mores is, in actuality, their method of building and strengthening them. Donnelly denies any link between the Marx Brothers and anarchistic surrealism. He argues that their importance is not in their ability as performers; rather, it lies in the structure of their films, which was "molded in the inferno of American vaudeville into a form of comedy that is unified and effective, and that is the real achievement" (15). In 148 Other words, the Marx Brothers' films are a transition from Vaudevillian humor to screen comedy.

The Writings of Artaud Artaud's Vague Language With the Thalberg criticism and the traditional Artaudian approach in mind, it is important to sort through Artaud's rhetoric and determine whether the Marx Brothers are unique representatives of the Theater of Cruelty. An attempt to relate the Marx Brothers to Artaud is most difficult because of the imagistic quality of his writing. The Theater and its Double begins with a passage relating the theater to the plague in Europe, claiming that, like the plague, the theater "is a crisis which is resolved by death or cure" (31). He demonstrates the mise en scene (a predominant theme within a large body of work, often playing to the subconscious mind) through the description of the painting. Lot and His Wives. The mise is a means by which the artist challenges the audience through a manipulation of the senses and use of images on stage. Artaud never produced a full acting theory; instead, he left fragments and notes for his followers to piece together. Director Peter Brook, whose experimentation with Artaud led to the production Marat Sade. told writer Mark Rose, "Artaud has no relation with practical theatre. His great value is as a symbol, a poetic figure-head." When the theories are 149 applied, claims Brook, "they are betrayed because of the compromise the practical application brings" (Rose, 37). Nevertheless, Marx Brothers criticism is equated with "Artaudian anarchy," and critics often use Artaud's terminology when writing about the team. Gerald Mast titles his chapter on the team "The Anarchists." Durgnat uses the title "Four Against Alienation," and Jenkins refers to traditional Marx Brothers criticism as the "Anarchistic Comedy Tradition." It is obvious that the team cannot be related to Artaud as easily as Chaplin can be related to Meyerhold. There are several reasons. First, Meyerhold's thought was well- outlined and specifically spelled out. Artaud's words are confusing and full of double-entendre. He is poetic; the phrase "cruelty" seems a misnomer, for it is not a demand for sadomasochism or anger on the stage. Instead, the Theater of Cruelty is a living, breathing challenge for the actor to use his entire body in performance and to incorporate all possible avenues of performing in a struggle to rip down the mores and values of society. Artaud is overly-imagistic. The "Double" to which he often refers may be interpreted as anything from the actor's body to the theater itself. He is not specific about any particular acting rules, thus leading to various interpretations. In fact, taken at face value. The Theater and its Double offers little more than a series of images and vague statements 150 about creating a unique (though undefined) new approach to theater.

Surrealism and Rebellion Artaud is still subject to interpretation. Eric Sellin identifies several major themes in Artaud's works: a plea for new language in the theater; a catharsis of cruelty with the "double"; and a mythical mise en scene (or theme behind the work) (82). Martin Esslin gives different definitions: the theater as reality; a demand to impact the audience in such a way as to make them suffer; and an ability to communicate to the audience ideas that have not been verbalized and are a part of the deep subconscious (79). Bermel lists features of the actual Theater of Cruelty; it does not physically torture the audience but, instead, "places the rigor or necessity or implacability of life" through artistic expression; it draws on the collective unconsciousness of mankind; it works on the nerves and senses (23). For Costich, the most important element in the Theater of Cruelty is the transformation of language, expanding the audible language of yells, screams, and noise above the written text (49). There is also the matter of Artaud having belonged for a short time to the Surrealist school. He is often misinterpreted, being lumped by Marx critic Joe Adamson with Salvador Dali, the surrealist painter who so loved Harpo's 151 work that he sent him a harp made from barbed wire and spoons. Harpo, of course, politely got rid of it. Quoting Artaud, Adamson writes, "The poetic quality of a film like Animal Crackers would fit the definition of humor if this word had not long since lost its sense of essential liberation ..." Then, turning from criticism to verbal wit, Adamson quips, "I see. He has decided that Animal Crackers is surrealistic, but it isn't humor. It's a good thing we consulted one of these guys, isn't it?" (161). The first question, then, is to ask whether or not the Marx Brothers should be considered surrealists. Artaud belonged to the school of surrealism from 1924-1927, before breaking with founder Andre Breton over personal and political differences. The specific reason for the break seems to have been politically motivated, for Breton believed surrealism would lead to a physical world revolution and grew tired of expressing revolutionary terms in art. In contrast, Artaud attempted to establish a theater of revolution, and his failed "Theater Alfred Jarry" was designed to challenge conventional theatrical practice.

Surrealism, as it pertains to theater, is a mixture of dream and reality. In her work Andre Breton: Magus of 152 Surrealism, Anna Balakian attempts to clarify the basic ideas of the school: Reality, then, in its dynamic sense proceeding from an interior state, nurtured by what we call imagination, and brought to an exterior existence through the capture of dreams or subconscious verbalization is what Breton calls the "surreal," in a sense that has no connection with the unreal or the intervention of the fantastic, which is understood to be exterior to human perception. (89)

In Andre Breton and the Concepts of Surrealism. Michael Carrouges explains that "surreal is not to be confused with unreal; it is the living synthesis of the real and the unreal, of the immediate and the virtual, of the banal and the fantastic" (12). It is this synthesis of the real and unreal that Artaud seems to have found so compelling about the Marx Brothers' early work. Harpo, in particular, is the harbinger of surrealistic art in film, for his visual "gags" are a synthesis of reality and fantasy. In writing about Horsefeathers. Artaud explains that the Brothers satirize conventional society by producing images and behavior that contradict what one is accustomed to seeing in the real world. In a Marx Brothers' film a man thinks he is going to take a woman in his arms but instead gets a cow, which moos. And through a conjunction of circumstances, which it would take too long to analyze here, that moo, at just that moment, assumes an intellectual dignity equal to any woman's cry. (43) 153 In her article on Harpo's meeting Salvador Dali, Marie Seton quotes the brothers as calling their comedy "lunatic comedy" and denying any link to the surrealist movement. Seton makes the case for the surrealists by describing one of the hundreds of nonsensical "sight gags" for Harpo, in this case, Harpo taking the place of a statue in a Civic Virtue fountain. Such dissociated thinking is also characteristic of the classic nonsense writers. A tea-cup made of squirrel fur, a fanciful conception of Salvador Dali, is most certainly an association of dissimilar objects and undoubtedly makes war on reason, logic and common sense. Whether it gives the brain a chance to develop is a matter for psychologists to decide, but it certainly breaks down conventional thinking in an unprejudiced observer. (735)

Are the Marx Brothers surrealists because they present contrasting images and thus trigger dissociated thinking? Hundreds of contrasting images occur in the Marx Brothers films: Harpo breaks the bounds of logic when pulling a cup of steaming coffee out of his overcoat (Horsefeathers); Harpo demonstrates the old adage "you can't burn a candle on both ends" is incorrect when he exhibits a candle burning at both ends (Horsefeathers); Harpo rides a lighted Pegasus on a billboard (Love Happy). A question arises as to whether or not these contrasting images are elements of surrealism unique to the Marx Brothers' style of comedy. 154 Vaudeville and the Surreal A glance at vaudeville reveals hundreds of equally surrealistic mixtures of fantasy and reality. Harpo's autobiography recounts two examples. During the brothers' early tours, they encountered a plethora of terrible acts: Harpo's favorite was Mons Herbert, who set up a dinner table and played the anvil chorus with knives and forks. Then he took a balloon turkey and deflated it in spurts, playing "Oh, Those Dry Tears" out of its rump (131). One wonders how a surrealist critic might find elements of anarchy and rebellion against proper societal norms in Herbert's playing with utensils and making obscene noises with food. The brothers lost a job when Minnie came to the defense of a family of singers who milked a cow onstage while singing familiar songs of the day. Harpo even tells the story of a female female impersonator who, in order to keep her job, pretended to be a man when she was not onstage (134). Perhaps most surreal of all is the little-known act where a Vaudevillian wore a linoleum suit and actually allowed the audience to fire vegetables at him while he did his act. One must ask whether or not these vaudeville acts would be considered surrealistic or if they are simply exploiting the comic techniqe of incongruity. Such acts were standard on the Vaudevillian stage, and their bold attempts to present contrasting images were part of Vaudevillian folklore. 155 With such an array of acts surrounding them, it is difficult to label the Marx Brothers as being any more or less surrealistic than any other comedy team that started on the vaudeville stage. Perhaps the "surrealistic" quality seen by Artaud and Dali was triggered from the Brothers' Vaudevillian and Commedia dell'Arte influence. Critic Stephen Barber acknowledges that the Marx Brothers were not influenced by Artaud, but the formulation of Artaud's theory may have been affected by the Marx Brothers's films. For Barber, Artaud's viewing the Marx films developed "his insistence on the necessary danger of the chance" and "stressed the quality of revolt in the outbursts of noise and movement" (47). This interpretation has nothing to do with an anarchial destruction of society but instead emphasizes risks and danger in style of speech and physical control. Furthermore, Barber defines the Marx Brothers as linking laughter to Theater of Cruelty as a "force of wild destruction and liberation" (44). Rose quotes Artaud by saying there was as much "healing power in a laugh as in a cry." In an interview with Artaud's nephew. Rose was told "his (Artaud's) happiest moments were those he experienced when watching the antics and animated comedy of the Marx Brothers" (10, my note). The first quality of Artaud inherent in the Marx Brothers is the surrealistic revolt of "noise and movement" and the "healing power" of laughter. 156 The revolt of noise and movement is, of course, the most commonly identified trait connecting the Marx Brothers and Artaud. Fadiman refers to "extravagantly unnecessary" gestures in the brothers' films, and Weales refers to their "destructive force." Time called Harpo "Puck in fright wig." In the films before Thalberg, the brothers took on "the establishment" and parodied the real estate business in The Cocoanuts, poked fun at high society in Animal Crackers, stowed away on a ship and ran amuck on its decks in Monkey Business, parodied education and colleges in Horsefeathers, and, of course, made a statement about the ridiculousness of war in Duck Soup. It was the highly exaggerated characterizations and movements that were uniquely Artaudian, however, not, as most critics claim, the destruction of society. To say that the team poked fun at high society or high concepts in these films is being too extreme and too vague at the same time. The brothers simply kept the same character masks and put them in different settings. The major goal in each setting was for the team to assault verbally and physically whatever objects or personages stood in their way. They were not individuals; each one was a separate and distinct part of one whole. Groucho, as a verbal wit, twisted accepted norms through wordplay. Harpo, in his choice to remain silent, physically attacked the same images and conventions through a combination of visual gags 157 and unrestrained violence. Playing an exaggerated immigrant, Chico linked the verbal witticism of Groucho with the physical world of Harpo. They were not three sides of a surrealistic image of the world; they were three archetypes carrying their Vaudevillian training to the new medium of film and experimenting with physical gags and lazzi tied together with loose-fitting and poorly constructed plots. In reference to anarchy, Groucho argued later that all of the film comedians during the era, "Harold Lloyd, Keaton and those fellows," were attacking the contemporary establishment of the day. They are not remembered as much now because "they weren't about anything, they were just trying to be funny." The Marx Brothers succeeded because they did movies "about monarchy" or "about a school" or "satirized the opera in America" (Altman, 12). Although Artaud himself was anti-political and anti- establishment, it is difficult actually to place the brothers in such a category. Richard Shepard, Cultural News Editor of the New York Times, called the Marx Brothers "court jesters" who worked within the establishment "dedicated to deflation, not disintegration" and "antidisestablishmentarians" (Anobile, 9-10). Harpo's violent, destructive nature, however, can hardly be equated with anti-establishment sentiments. Harpo is a child who eats or destroys anything he does not understand. In Cocoanuts. Harpo eats an ink well, a telephone, and 158 everything at a hotel desk. In Animal Crackers, he destroys a bridge game and wrestles Margaret Dumont to the ground. In Monkey Business, he disguises himself as a woman's bustle and destroys a dancer's costume. In Horse Feathers, he rips up a policeman's ticket and assists Chico in sawing through a floor. In Duck Soup, he wades barefoot through Edgar Kennedy's lemonade. A Night at the Opera finds him swinging on stage ropes and riding a backdrop from the fly loft to the stage. In each of these instances, Harpo keeps the same mask and simply participates in a series of lazzi, not necessarily aimed at destroying conventional society, but always designed to show the innocent but mischievous child. Groucho described their comedy as an attempt to complete "the overthrow of sanity, to give the brain a chance to develop" (Adamson, 160). The "overthrow of sanity" quotation from Groucho is typical rhetoric from the team, and he admitted later in life that they did not, in fact, have any particular goal or statement in mind. In the interview with Altman, Groucho conceded, "We were trying to be funny, but we didn't know that we were satirizing the current conditions. It came as a great surprise to us" (12). When asked if he was influenced by the classical surrealists, Groucho replied, "I had never heard of them in those days, I was too busy making a living in vaudeville." When pressed, he stated, "I didn't 159 think there was any art involved. We were trying to be funny, and we were getting very good money for it" (14).

The Theatre of Cruelty Having examined the elements of surrealism and rebellion, one must go back to the Theatre of Cruelty to find similarities between Artaud and the Marx Brothers. Artaud's two manifestos for the Theatre of Cruelty are, like the rest of his work, imagistic and obscure. Furthermore, although they point out various aspects of the theater form, they do not specifically mention any formal qualities. In the first manifesto, Artaud tells the reader that the theater must not "rely upon texts considered definitive and sacred" and seeks a language halfway between gesture and thought (89). This idea may be applied to the Marx Brothers through their destruction of traditional plot devices. Instead of being plot-oriented, the Brothers' films are character-based. While providing a simple story or sequence of events to get Harpo into action, the Marx Brothers' films are much more concerned with the creation of lazzi than with the traditional story structure. This quality may also be inherent from their development from vaudeville. In respect to creating a language halfway between gesture and thought, the Marx Brothers as a team created three different languages between thought and gesture; Groucho's language of the elite class, full of wordplay, linguistic games, and 160 references to current events; Harpo's language of visual images, filled with "surrealistic contradictions" and outrageous actions that attack not just the rules of society but also the temporal and spatial rules governing life; Chico's voice of the masses, a variation on vaudeville's ethnic characters, halfway between Groucho's arrogance and Harpo's visual puns, and filled with such painful stretches of the English language that the jokes would not work in any other context. It is through these three masks that the Marx Brothers create their own language, apart from the previous language of the theater because, at the same time, it both affirms and denies traditional expression. The three aspects of Marx language have been addressed in a variety of ways. Fisher suggests that the three languages are indicative of the masks and come straight from the Commedia dell'Arte: "The wisecracking Groucho was Pantalone, the silent Harpo combined elements of Pulcinella and Pierrot, the crafty Chico mixed aspects of Brighella and several other zanni" (283). In The Groucho Phile. Groucho refers to all four brothers and Margaret Dumont as "the Marx Brothers Stock Company" that made thirteen films with one common thread; "our famous public personalities. We were characters, in both senses of the word" (86). Harpo's son. Bill, told Joe Adamson, "What you saw (on screen) was merely an extension of who they were in real life" (Marx Brothers jp « Nutshell, my note). The three masks may certainly be 161 related to the creation of an original voice and an unique language through which the team expresses itself in a combination gesture/thought. Artaud further defines the language of the new theater as being a "visual language of objects, movements, attitudes, and gestures" that challenge the audience to touch on all aspects of a cosmic order and "create a kind of passionate equation between Man, Society, Nature, and Objects." The use of such a language is to create "temptations" that are related to metaphysical ideas onstage and uses "humor with its anarchy, poetry with its symbolism and its images" to create a metaphysical bond between the audience and the actor. Obviously, such an explanation is quite ethereal. The Marx Brothers might be placed in the category of "humor with its anarchy," but they had no desire to make artistic or metaphysical statements. They simply intended to be funny. Is it still possible to apply the Marx Brothers to Artaud if they did not know what they were doing? Eric Sellin thinks so, explaining "that the element of surprise sought by Artaud was not based on design is seen in his admiration for the Marx Brothers" (99). It is, therefore, Artaud's opinion that surrealism may be seen in the work of the Marx Brothers and, according to Bermel, it may be seen in some of the 162 works of Chaplin as well. It is the quality of anarchy that Artaud particularly appreciates: He relishes their explorations of mime as an art form, and the subversive nature of their antics. The farcical eruptions of childhood pranks from Harpo, the cool insolence of Groucho, the balletic wonders of Chaplin, on or off his feet or skidding about on roller skates and banisters—these depict human movement taken to extremes that temporarily deplete the performer and outrage the other, normal characters. (53)

Such a list of physical actions does not make the Marx Brothers unique in film history; the mention of Chaplin as having taken a similar physical approach to comedy prevents a conclusion that the Marx Brothers' antics were unique to their time. It is, therefore, necessary to delve still deeper into Artaud to find any unique link between the Marx Brothers and the Theater of Cruelty.

A Categorization of Artaud's Concepts Perhaps the most detailed attempt to put Artaud's theories into a measurable, discernable whole was Mark Rose's tiny volume. The Actor and His Double: Mime and Movement for the Theater of Cruelty. Acknowledging the lack of an Artaudian system of acting, or at least the lack of Artaud's detailed explanation for that system. Rose attempts to analyze the writings of Artaud and to pull out the traits that Artaud stressed should be developed. His conclusions are taken from a full analysis of all of Artaud's work. 163 including The Theater and its Double, as well as a series of letters, lectures and essays. Included in these traits are two categories, the technical and the physical. According to Rose, Artaudian actors concentrate on the following techniques: I. Technical 1. Special breathing techniques; 2. An eclectic array of movement styles; 3. Puppet-like movements; 4. Animal movements; 5. Movements portraying superhuman monsters; 6. Masks, costumes, padding, stilts, fabric, puppets, objects and accessories; 7. Movement timed in relation to mechanically controlled puppets, masks, mirrors, scenery, furniture, lighting and objects; 8. Stage action combined with filmed movement and slide projections; 9. Elaborate solo and ensemble gesture and movement, often in a multi-leveled space surrounding the audience; II. Emotional 10. Realistic gestures and action to depict ordinary and extraordinary human behavior; 11. Gestures and actions that contradict a character's intentions and lines; 164 12. Intensely emotional and exaggerated gestures and action through which the actor's latent cruelty is explored, expressed and purged; 13. Dreams and fantasies as sources for extravagant movement; 14. Stylized, formalized, stereotypical, illustrative and dance movement, to symbolize special inner states and metaphysical ideas; 15. Gestures and movements with a ritualistic quality appropriate for a theater whose main goal is to purge violence through a depiction of horrifying events. Obviously, several of the categories are not applicable to the Marx Brothers or to film. Little evidence exists about the team's warmup or breathing exercises. Categories number eight and nine apply to stage instead of film. Rose says very little about the surrealistic qualities that Artaud pointed out in the Marx Brothers' work or the elements of anarchy already examined. It is possible, however, to take a category-by-category examination of each of these Artaudian elements and to apply them to the films of the Marx Brothers. As the next chapter will demonstrate, these Artaudian elements are not completely applicable to the team, nor are they unique to the Marx Brothers. The next chapter shall examine Rose's points in respect to use 165 of theme and image in both the work of the Marx Brothers and in Charlie Chaplin.

Summary It has been the focus of this chapter to examine Harpo and the Marx Brothers and their relationship to Artaud's Theater of Cruelty. The surrealistic and anarchistic qualities usually identified with "Artaudian" Marx Brothers critics are not unique to the team. It has been further stated that, although Artaud's theories may be loosely applied to the Marx Brothers, the team's film work may be more easily viewed as an extension of their vaudeville routines. CHAPTER VI THE ARTAUDIAN ELEMENTS AS DISPLAYED IN THE MARX BROTHERS AND CHAPLIN

Keeping in mind the work of Rose and his exploration of Artaud, this chapter provides a detailed examination of Chaplin and Harpo Marx in the context of the Theater of Cruelty. This study will demonstrate that, although the Marx Brothers play with occasional themes and images found in Artaud, their work may hardly be seen as Artaudian. Furthermore, they never abandon the use of Commedia lazzi, loosely drawn Commedia scenarios, or established Commedia characters. Harpo is a Harlequin figure who never outgrows his trickster quality. The Marx Brothers have been mislabeled Artaudian because the "trickster" personalities have been misidentified as anarchical elements in their comedy. In the case of Chaplin, there seems to be a deliberate exploration of various themes and movements that may be directly related to Artaud and his theories. Although Harpo does not progress past being a part of a Commedia team, Chaplin uses imagery and concepts to develop the Pierrot-like pathos so easily identified with Charlie the Tramp. Although all of the Artaudian categories (as defined by Rose), apply, at least in some manner, to Chaplin, only a few of them directly apply to the Marx Brothers.

166 167 Following are applicable categories of Artaud's Theater of Cruelty, as listed by Rose. This chapter will examine the categories involving animal movement, the wide array of movement styles, puppet movements, the use of masks, movements in relation to mechanically controlled items, dreams and fantasies as sources for extravagant movement, and stylized and dance movement to symbolize inner states and metaphysical ideas. Chaplin makes great use of nearly all of these categories in his attempt to achieve pathos.

Dreams and Fantasies as a Source For Extravagant Movement Upon close examination of the Chaplin canon, it is surprising to find that dreams and dream themes are a recurring and somewhat obsessive motif. It is furthermore interesting to note that few, if any, actual dreams occur in the Marx Brothers' films. There are, however, quite a few references to sleep; in fact, one of Harpo's favorite lazzi is to fall asleep just about anywhere at any time.

Harpo Harpo and Sleep Perhaps the most famous of the Marx Brothers' "sleep" sequences is Harpo's sleeping in the trunk during the stateroom scene in A Night at the Opera. The sleeping Harpo is eventually hoisted onto the breakfast trays. In Animal 168 Crackers, Harpo and Chico deviously steal a painting and replace it with an exact duplicate painted by a friend. Immediately after the robbery, Harpo sleeps on a bench underneath a tree, with the painting spread over his body like a blanket. Later, when a policeman tries to arrest him, Harpo draws a flit-sprayer full of ether and manages to knock out the entire cast. Then, spotting one of the blondes he has chased throughout the show, Harpo flits the ether in his own face and joins her in unconsciousness. That scene, leaving the entire cast in an unconscious or semi-conscious state, is the finale for the film. Harpo falls asleep in several other films. In The Cocoanuts, he disrupts a speech by alternating between napping and leaving the table in complete disgust. In Duck Soup he is seen in bed with a horse. (This fetish with horses and animals will be discussed later in the chapter). All three brothers sleep in beds that come out of the floor in The Big Store.

Harpo and the Dream State Despite Harpo's continual napping, there is only one instance in a Marx Brothers film when Harpo dreams or fantasizes. In The Big Store. Harpo finds two mannequins dressed in 18th century French costuming, and he switches places with the male mannequin. Still wearing his wig, Harpo wears the eighteenth century clothing and leaves his 169 top hat and overcoat on the mannequin. The sequence does not reveal any inner thought; it is actually used to set up a harp solo. The musical interlude itself, however, is also rather dreamlike. Harpo sits between two mirrors, and, slowly but surely, the two images in the mirrors come alive and interact with him. By the end of the musical number, Harpo accompanies the harp solo with a cello in one mirror and violin in the other. Although this sequence reveals little or nothing about Harpo's inner character, it is a dream sequence. It may be argued that the Marx Brothers do not need dream sequences because their entire films are surrealistic and dreamlike. This argument does not take into account the use of commedia lazzi and the brothers' established characters. There are no dream sequences in Marx Brothers films because they do not need them. The Marx Brothers give their audiences no reason to have sympathy for their characters, and the world around the team should only be realistic enough that their lazzi will play convincingly against straight men. Those elements of Marx Brother films that might be identified as "dream-like" or "surreal" are lazzi consistent with the already-established characters. In one of the Marx Brothers' most dream-like sequences, Harpo rides a bicycle through a park at sunset. A carrot is suspended from a fishing rod in front of him, and he rides in hot pursuit of a screaming blond woman (Monkey Business). 170 This image, however, is no more dream-like or surreal than any other image in the team's movies. It is a lazzo connected with the character Harpo has worked to establish. He is an eternal trickster and woman chaser, and all of his lazzi/scenes are pointed toward the same end: he destroys whatever is around him.

Harpo is just as likely to pick a fight with Chico as he is to destroy something that a person in the upper class has established. The lemonade scene with Edgar Kennedy (DucH Soup) is not an attempt to bring anarchy on the upper class. Kennedy's character, just like Harpo and Chico, is selling food on the street corner. The scene begins when Harpo tears up Chico's peanut vending stand. He and Chico collectively turn to Edgar Kennedy because he is there, not because of a desire to destroy the establishment. Whether or not the Marx Brothers live in the equivalent of a dream state, none of the characters in their films dream, and their inner thoughts are rarely revealed. The Marx Brothers use Artaud's dreams and fantasies as a source for extravagant movement. There is no underlying character; there is only a mask defined by the lazzi used to exhibit that mask.

Chaplin The lack of dream sequences in Marx Brothers films may be contrasted with Chaplin, who used dreams and dream 171 imagery throughout his career. The earliest dream sequence occurred in his final Keystone film, and the last dream sequence was in Limelight. By using dreaming and daydreaming, Chaplin was able to reveal the Little Tramp's innermost desires and, consequently, allow Charlie to achieve pathos.

Two different kinds of fantasizing occur in Chaplin's films: dreaming and daydreaming. Daydreams are short fantasies concerning Chaplin's relationship to the characters around him. For instance, a daydream occurs when the Little Tramp, hopeful that someday he and the Gamin will be married, fantasizes about their married life in Modern Times. In contrast, Chaplin actually used full-scale, detailed dreams in several of his works, and the dream motif became representative of the Little Tramp's struggle against a cruel, often realistic, world.

Dreams The first instance of dreaming in a Chaplin film occurs in the final work at Keystone, His Prehistoric Past (1914). In it, Chaplin, as Weakchin, wears a bearskin and a derby hat. He competes with the powerful caveman ruler. Mack Swain, for the love of the ruler's favorite woman. In an act of insurrection, Chaplin throws his superior over the cliff and takes over as ruler of the tribe. Swain's character is not killed in the fall, however, and he returns 172 to club Chaplin over the head as he is courting the girl. Upon being hit, the Little Tramp awakens on a park bench and realizes that the entire film has been a dream. This dream is related to Artaud's demand for the use of dream and fantasies as a source of extravagant movement. Charlie's tramp character, already established by the series of silent films before this one, escapes his physical confines of being a weak and small character and is physically able to overcome the far-larger Mack Swain. If viewed without reference to other Chaplin films. His Prehistoric Past would, nevertheless, still be an effective exploration of the underdog versus the bully. Seen as a part of a collective whole, the film and Charlie's dream/desire to conquer a figure much larger and more powerful than he adds to the definition of the Little Tramp. One of Chaplin's most important dream sequences occurs in The Bank (1916). This film allows a glimpse of the tragicomic figure Charlie would become in the future. First, Charlie walks down the street, swinging his cane and holding his body in a dignified, proud manner. He enters the bank with great enthusiasm, conveying to the audience his feeling of importance. Once inside, however, Chaplin enters a vault and emerges as a floor cleaner. This contradiction of the audience's expectations sets up the world for The Bank; Chaplin fantasizes that he is important, but in reality, he is not. The fantasy is 173 extended to his relationships at work, and Charlie leaves flowers for Edna Purviance. She, of course, throws them away.

It is after establishing Charlie in this reality that Chaplin, the director, uses a dream sequence. Charlie falls asleep next to his mop and dreams that the bank is being robbed. During the dream, Charlie is graced with superhuman strength, courage, and wit, and he overcomes the bank robbers and saves Edna. He awakens kissing the mop. McDonald et al., call The Bank a beautiful blend of comedy and pathos. The importance of this film, however, stretches much further. It is a discovery on the part of Chaplin, the film-maker, that he can use the dream sequences to gain the sympathy of the audience. The Bank is of particular interest to this study because it does not have a happy ending. Donald McCaffrey gives an excellent chronological analysis of the forced happy endings before City Lights in his essay, "Evaluation of Chaplin's Silent Comedy Films: 1916-1936." McCaffrey believes that Chaplin wrestled with becoming a tragicomic figure, thus creating a flaw in films like The Vagabond and The Gold Rush by allowing Charlie to find happiness. In his analysis, however, McCaffrey overlooks the sad ending in The Bank, and he fails to identify the dream image as a method of developing pathos. 174 Chaplin's next dream film, Shoulder Arms, was the first of his two statements on war (1918). This time the film stands more firmly on its own, and the Little Tramp character is established as a bumbling klutz in a marching drill during the opening sequence. Charlie is shown to be the worst soldier in a pathetic, though highly patriotic, unit. After demonstrating himself as incompetent, Charlie goes to sleep, and the audience enters his world of fantasy where Charlie the soldier is a hero. This dream is long and detailed: the drudgery of trench warfare occurs; Charlie and his bunkmates are forced to sleep in a trench filled with water; Charlie catches a cat-nap by making a snorkel out of a gramaphone. The details of this dream establish him as a person in a real situation. Instead of battling the strong caveman for control of the pack, Charlie finds himself an ordinary man among other men. Like the dream character in His Prehistoric Past, in Shoulder Arms Charlie uses inhuman strength, unquestionable bravery, and unprecedented luck to defeat the enemy. This dreaming Charlie is less powerful than Charlie the caveman, but this time he manages to defeat an entire army of Germans. The dreamer in Shoulder Arms is able to rely on both wit and brute strength. Upon defeating an entire platoon of Germans, Charlie discovers that the German leader is smaller than he is, and he puts the little German over his knee and spanks him. He single-handedly turns a machine 175 gun on three Germans and captures them. He then heroically manages to outwit Kaiser Wilhelm, Prince William, and Hindenberg while saving both a woman and a fellow soldier. Another interesting image in the dream world of Shoulder Arms is the sequence in which a wounded Charlie is comforted by Edna Purviance. They seek shelter in a bombed out house that has lost an entire wall. Despite the fact that anyone can see through the missing wall, Charlie and Edna act as if they are in a normal home; Charlie knocks at the door, locks it behind him, opens the window to look outside, and then pulls the shade over the window before going to bed. This surreal set is perhaps the most dream­ like quality in the film; however, because of the devastation of the war, it is also one of the film's most realistic touches. Both His Prehistoric Past and Shoulder Arms dramatize the triumph of an undersized man over a larger enemy and, therefore, allow Chaplin to achieve a bond between the audience and the character. This bond is especially effective in Shoulder Arms, where Charlie becomes an Everyman, and the oversized antagonist is representative of an actual threat to both the imaginary Charlie and the real audience. It may also be contrasted with the Marx Brothers' war statement. Duck Soup, in which the brothers reek havoc in a world of war. Although both make statements about the 176 ridiculousness of fighting, only Chaplin establishes a character that, in context, achieves a state of pathos. The third major dream came in Chaplin's first full- length film. The Kid (1921). In one of the film's most moving sequences, Charlie falls asleep and dreams that he and little Jackie Coogan go to heaven where they can be together forever. Unfortunately, Charlie is tempted by a vamp, and he gets into trouble with heaven's police. Despite having wings and an angel's robe, he is killed by a policeman's bullet.

This dream contradicts the themes established in Charlie's previous dreams. First, he does not escape reality in his dream world. In the real world, Charlie is faced with losing Jackie Coogan and seeks comfort in fantasy. His dream world is quickly invaded by the same problems, however, and he must struggle against the universe, even in his dream-heaven. Charlie has the super­ human power of flight as an angel, but he is not more powerful than the other figures around him. This time the dream world is simply an extension of reality and a demonstration of what is happening in Charlie's inner mind. The Little Tramp becomes more defined as a character because his physical actions probe into the inner workings of his mind.

Chaplin's most famous dream sequence is in The Goldrush (1925). Waiting for his new love and her friends to arrive 177 at his cabin, Charlie begins fantasizing. He entertains the ladies with a dance to the music, "Oceana Rolls," a lazzo in which Charlie uses inanimate objects (silverware and dinner rolls) in combination with his own face to form a character. This sequence meets a number of aspects outlined in Artaud's Theater of Cruelty. The dream becomes a source for extravagant character movement, and Charlie uses part of his body with the inanimate objects to create a puppet. The dance gives puppet movements to the new character, and Chaplin tromps across the table and kicks his tiny feet. By using this dream sequence, Chaplin not only reveals Charlie's inner desires, but also establishes a bond with the audience because they realize that no one is coming to the party. The audience experiences a sense of guilt while laughing at the tramp, because his dreams will not come true. Once again, Chaplin uses Artaudian dreaming to establish a Pierrot pathos. A final dream sequence occurrs in Limelight (1952). As Calvero, a retired Music Hall performer, dreams twice of performing. In the first dream Calvero is in bed while music plays from the streets below. The music triggers Calvero to remember the past, and, in a rather drawn-out sequence, he dreams about performing his old routine in front of an audience. Calvero wakes up when he sees that the theatre is empty. Later, Calvero fantasizes about performing on the Music Hall stage again, but this time he 178 is accompanied by a new partner, his neighbor and love interest, Claire Bloom. Neither of these two dream/fantasy sequences use the extravagant movement prescribed in Artaud. Nevertheless, the dream sequences in Limelight allow the audience to get into Calvero's inner mind and, consequently, help achieve a bond between Calvero and the audience.

Daydreams and Contradictary Actions and Intentions In addition to using fully developed dreams, Chaplin also employed brief daydreams in which Charlie fantasizes about overcoming obstacles. The daydreams fulfill several Artaudian elements; they are a second example of using extravagant movement for dreams and fantasies; they are a source of stylized and dance movement; they reveal Charlie's inner thoughts and, consequently, show gestures and actions that contradict Charlie's desires or intentions. The daydream sequences are more Artaudian than the fully developed dreams because Charlie is able to act in a more extravagant manner, and the action of the film is less interrupted by the inner conflict. The first major daydream sequence occurs in Sunnyside (1919), when Charlie dances a dream-dance ballet with wood nymphs. The dream occurs when Charlie is knocked out, and it has little to do with the actual plot of the film. Nevertheless, Charlie and the wood nymphs dance, moving 179 gracefully about the forest. Despite its being a dream, Charlie is not invulnerable; at one point in the dream he sits on a cactus and has to deal with very real pain in an exaggerated and balletic manner. A daydream was used to add to the depth of a character in The Idle Class (1921). Charlie the Tramp watches a beautiful woman ride by on a horse, and he immediately daydreams an incident in which the horse goes out of control, and he must rush to the rescue. The dream foreshadows the action of the film; the Tramp stumbles into a masquerade party, and the woman mistakes him for her alcoholic husband. In the daydream, Charlie the Tramp is a hero, but in the real world, he is discovered and kicked out of the home. It is interesting to note that reality is foreshadowed in the daydream; although Charlie is a hero in the fantasy, he is forced to ride a burro to the rescue. This subtle image reminds the audience that Charlie will never reach the grand state of the woman he is chasing. In addition to the prolonged dream sequence in The Gold Rush, Chaplin also uses a daydream to set the tone of the film. For the first (and only) time in a Chaplin film, it is not Charlie who is having the daydream. Cold and starving. Mack Swain eyes Charlie as he bounces about the cabin and, in a hallucinatory state, suddenly sees Charlie as a chicken. This dream allows Chaplin to exaggerate his movement in such a manner that he imitates an animal, 180 fulfilling yet another Artaudian element. Chaplin kicks his legs, bends at the waist, and flaps his arms, inducing Swain to try to eat him. Both the daydream and the actions that precipitate it allow Chaplin to exaggerate his movement style. The brief daydream in The Circus (1928) is highly important to the development of Charlie's character. The sequence occurs when Charlie's love interest (Myrna Kennedy) falls for the show's newest performer, a tight rope walker. Chaplin the director uses superimposition to achieve the effect of the daydream, and the Little Tramp steps out of his own body and physically beats the tightrope walker to win the girl. The daydream creates a contrast to the actual outcome of the film when Charlie, going against what the audience knows are his real feelings, pairs the couple and helps them get married. The daydream sequence displays Charlie's inner emotion and desires. It is an effective method of allowing the audience to understand his motivations and, therefore, achieves a bond between the audience and the little tramp. Charlie dreams of a perfect future with the Gamin (Paulette Goddard) in Modern Times (1936). Both homeless, they watch a couple kiss in a doorway as the man goes off to work. As a result, Charlie begins daydreaming, seeing Goddard and himself as a perfect couple in a perfect home. The daydream is contrasted later when Goddard finds them a 181 dreamhouse—a crumbling wooden structure that falls apart with the happy couple inside. Once again, Chaplin captures his audience by presenting contrasting images in a pleasant daydream versus harsh reality. However, Charlie and the Gamin are love each other, and therefore, what appears as imperfection is transformed into dream-like happiness. The dance with the globe scene in The Great Dictator (1940) is also, debatably, an instance of daydreaming. The daydreams in the previously-mentioned films are well distinguished from reality. Chaplin uses either film technique (the superimposition in The Circus) or a physical state of waking/sleeping (Sunnyside) to separate those segments from the rest of the film. In The Great Dictator. Chaplin's evil character, Hynkel, is in mid-conversation when the daydream begins, and he even has the presence of mind to dismiss his assistant before allowing the full daydream to take shape. It comes in the form of a balletic dance reminiscent of the nymph dance in Sunnyside, and Chaplin caresses, bounces, and waltzes with balloon-globe of the world. Once again, Chaplin demonstrates the Artaudian idea of using heightened physical form, gesture, and ballet during a dream state. He also achieves super-human ability, leaping onto his desk without effort, holding the entire world in his hands, bouncing it on his buttocks, then posing over the globe like a vulture and swooping down to snatch it into his arms. Although there is no definitive beginning to 182 the daydream state, there certainly is an ending; Hynkel squeezes the globe too hard, and it explodes. This time the daydream is not used to achieve pathos, but it does reveal the innermost desires of Chaplin's character and actually makes a prophetic statement about the dangers facing Chaplin and the audience in real life. One possible origin for Chaplin's fascination with dreams may be identified. Comedian Stan Laurel (who worked with Chaplin when he was with the Karno Company, and who began his career as a Chaplin impersonator) writes that he and Chaplin both played in a Karno sketch callled Jimmy the Fearless. The title character was a dreamer, and the sketch involved a series of dreams and fantasies in which Jimmy escaped reality and became a hero. Laurel originated the role, but he admitted that it was a perfect role for Chaplin and did not complain when Chaplin replaced him. Laurel believes that Jimmy the Fearless influenced the rest of Chaplin's career: You can see Jimmy the Fearless all over some of his pictures—dream sequences for instance. He was fond of them, especially in his early pictures. And when it comes down to it, I've always thought that poor, brave, dreamy Jimmy one day grew up to be Charlie the Tramp. (McCabe, 36) The Artaudian idea of exaggerated movement as a part of the dream state is far more applicable to Chaplin than it is to the Marx Brothers. It is, in fact, a major device for Chaplin's development of pathos. Chaplin uses the dreaming 183 and fantasizing as a method to establish a bond between the audience and character, thus taking Charlie close to the sad-faced Pierrot. Harpo uses the few dreams in the Marx Brothers films as gags or lazzi, achieving great comedic effect but rarely capturing the heart of the audience.

Animal Movements A second element mentioned by Artaud is the use of animal movements as a part of the Theater of Cruelty. While both Chaplin and Harpo make continual appearances with animals, and Harpo shows far more interest in permanent companionship with animals than with humans, only Chaplin makes use of animal movements as an effective part of his character.

Harpo and Horses The horse is Harpo's most coveted companion, and he often prefers a horse's company to that of women. In Animal Crackers, when asked to reveal his true love, Harpo displays a picture of a horse. He does the same thing in Duck Soup, and later Harpo and the horse are in bed together. In Horsefeathers he replaces a picture of a woman in a bathing suit with a picture of a horse. A Day at the Races exploits the horse fetish by casting Harpo as a jockey. He is, therefore, dependent on the horse for his living. In one scene Harpo keeps the horse in his closet and feeds it hay 184 from the mattress on his bed. In another scene, Harpo takes the horse's place in a harness. There is a reason, however, for this masquerade, because Harpo and Chico are trying to keep the horse from being led away. Finally, in Love Happy, Harpo rides a lighted pegasus sign out of harm's way. All of these instances are lazzi with animals; none of them are physical imitations of animal movement. The only time Harpo physically imitates a horse is when he is "horsing around." One of his favorite gags is to jump on an unsuspecting victim's back (usually Chico's) and "ride" him or her. He also gallops like a horse on the football field in Horsefeathers; however, this gallop is used in combination with a skipping movement, and Harpo tosses banana peels behind him at the opposing players as he runs. It seems that this is less an instance of animal movement than use of the banana peel lazzo (discussed in a later chapter). Despite the love relationship with horses, only the harness scene in A Day at the Races even comes close to Harpo making animal movements. Harpo keeps a close relationship to horses, but he does not imitate one; therefore, Harpo's relationship with horses cannot be applied to Artaud. 185 Charlie and Horses In contrast to Harpo's near obsessive love for horses, these animals have a near-obsessive hatred for Charlie. In His Musical Career, Charlie, who delivers pianos by wagon, must fight the donkey drawing his cart. In The Circus, a burro finds Charlie an easy target and chases him all over the circus grounds. In The Gold Rush a burro breaks in on Charlie's preparations for the evening, and it nearly tears up the dinner table. In The Idle Class, he rides a bucking burro when fantasizing about being a hero. Finally, in City Lights, Charlie cleans the streets behind horses, only to take evasive action when a circus marches past and he must clean up after the elephants. Obviously, Chaplin enjoyed using horses and horse jokes as much as Harpo. There is, however, an instance where Chaplin's body does the horse's work. In Work. Charlie is actually hitched to a cart and forced to drag his boss' cart up a steep hill. In contrast to Harpo's being in the harness in A Day at the Races, Charlie must physically take the place of the horse, and he moves his body with animal-like grace. In this case, not only does Chaplin use animal movements, his body takes the place of the animal's.

The Marx Brothers and Animal Movement One instance occurs of a Marx Brother actually moving like an animal, but "the mover" is Groucho, not Harpo. In 186 Monkey Business, Groucho courts Thelma Todd by acting like a cat. During an evening he climbs on a balcony during an evening and meows at the top of his lungs, stopping at one point to put his "paws" in the air and allow her to rub his ears. This scene certainly qualifies for the Artaudian label of animal imagery.

Two Marx Brother films (A Day at the Races and Monkey Business) climax in a barn. The team confronts their antagonists in a place where animals live and in the middle of exaggerated animal sounds. Although they often play lazzi off the animals, they do not imitate animal movement. In addition, three other interesting images exist in which the Marx Brothers deal with animal cages. In his first harp solo on film (The Cocoanuts), Harpo gets behind the strings of the harp and grimaces, bringing to mind the image of a caged animal. The same image is brought to mind in Horsefeathers, when Harpo, the dog catcher, manages to snare a policeman in his dog cage. An interesting reverse of the animal movement concept occurs in At the Circus. Groucho, Harpo, and Chico try to think and end up pacing in front of a monkey cage. The monkeys, in turn, start moving like the Marx Brothers. In this case, the animals are moving like human beings. Finally, according to stage lore, during the filming of Animal Crackers, director Victor Heerman refused to put up with the Marx Brothers' irresponsible behavior. He 187 constructed four small cells/cages and forced the four Marx Brothers to stay in them. This ironic animal image is quite Artaudian, but it occurred in real life and not on film.

Chaplin and Animal Movements Chaplin fulfills Artaud's demand for animal movement in a countless number of instances. In A Dog's Life. Charlie and Scraps, the dog, are mirrors of each other. As a bum, Charlie lives like a dog. He scavenges for food and uses a dog as a pillow. Then, when entering a bar, Charlie stuffs Scraps down his pants, the dog's tail extends from Charlie's rump, creating a man-dog. Charlie then goes "exploring" the bar, moving like a dog back and forth though the crowd. His body actually becomes an animal body, and his new "tail" beats a nearby snare drum when Charlie stands next to the band in the bar. He also uses other actors as animals. In Easy Street, Chaplin feeds a room full of starving children by scattering food on the ground in front of them. He tosses it like a farmer pitching feed to chickens. In The Gold Rush. Mack Sennett's daydream that Charlie is a chicken is further accentuated by Chaplin's arm, leg, and hip movements. He bends at the waist and flaps his arms. In The Circus, Chaplin performs a high wire act, and, aware that he has been securely fastened to a piano wire, he jumps about, literally walking the tightrope like a monkey. Then, when the piano wire comes unfastened, a group of real 188 monkeys attacks him, climbing over his shoulders and into his hair. Once again, Chaplin becomes half man/half animal, first moving like a monkey and then becoming physically attached to some. In Behind the Screen. Charlie goes so far as to create a visual animal out of immobile objects, carrying an arm-load of chairs and transforming himself into what Dan Kamin calls "a human porcupine" (46) when the chair legs stick out in all directions. Although evidence of animal imagery in the Marx Brothers does exist, they rarely used animal movements in depicting characters. In contrast, Chaplin often used animal movements in order to accentuate the situation.

Stylized Dance Movement to Symbolize Special Inner States and Metaphysical Ideas Stylized Dance in the Marx Brothers The Marx Brothers dance frequently, but their dances are always accompanied by vast musical numbers, a throwback to their stage work. The principal dancer is Groucho, who leads the chorus in such songs as "Hooray for Captain Spaulding" (Animal Crackers) and "Lydia the Tattooed Lady" (At the Circus). Harpo is often depicted as the drum major of a band, waving a stick, a pitchfork, or whatever else might be handy. However, the Marx Brothers' dances are no more than an extension of their vaudeville routines. They are not an attempt to externalize their innermost desires. 189 their metaphysical philosophies, or any other internal thought.

Stylized Dance in Chaplin Chaplin's use of dance movement within dreams has already been discussed. Of particular interest to this category would be the dance with the forest nymphs in Sunnyside, Hynkels' dance in The Great Dictator, and the dance of the dinner rolls in The Gold Rush. Several other uses of dance express either inner states or metaphysical ideas.

First, Chaplin masterfully uses dance scenes to symbolize Charlie's separation from the rest of the world. In Modern Times, while working as a waiter, Charlie must cross a room full of dancers to bring an angry patron his food. He is caught in the crowd, and despite his goal, they take him back and forth across the dance floor. At times Charlie is distinguished from the crowd only by his own frantic dancing against the stream of dancers. In The Gold Rush, the patrons at the bar dance while Charlie stays at home and dreams about his potential dinner party, i.e., the rest of the world, dances while Charlie fantasizes. Once again, the scene singles out Charlie from the rest of the world, and it helps to foster audience sympathy. Second, Chaplin uses skating as a balletic expression. In The Rink. Chaplin takes part in a prolonged skating scene 190 in which he embarrasses members of the upper class who come to the rink. He alternates moments of moving with sheer grace with swinging his body wildly to get a balance. The entire skating scene becomes a dance, and in one miraculous moment, Chaplin actually does the splits on skates, allowing himself to fall and then pushing his body back up with his legs. The Rink is a graceful ballet. Twenty years later, in Modern Times, Chaplin skates gracefully across a department store. Chaplin blindfolds himself to show off and, in skating precariously close to a large hole in the floor, he nearly falls to his death. In both of these cases, Charlie the Tramp tears down the established norms of society, first by falling all over the upper crust and then by violating store rules. The skating scenes are not only an example of the use of Artaudian dance movement, they are also an example of the anarchy often attributed to the Marx Brothers. Finally, Chaplin uses dance as a part of the movement of everyday life. In Modern Times Chaplin takes part in a balletic boxing scene in which he cleverly manipulates the referee's body between his and that of his boxing opponents. A similar series of dances occurs in The Champion, in which Chaplin uses a horseshoe in his boxing glove to fight much larger opponents. In The Floorwalker. Chaplin dances a ballet of mistaken joy around Eric Campbell before Campbell takes a swing and knocks him down. In The Count. Charlie 191 flirts with a woman by incorporating pratfalls (at one time he falls flat on his nose) while they are dancing. He pretends to displace his hip and makes a lazzo by shifting weight from one side of his body to another (a similar lazzo was used for part of his final routine in Limelight). Although elements of dance exist in both Chaplin and the Marx Brothers, the effects of the dance are quite different. Chaplin uses balletic dance and exaggerated movement for effect; the Marx Brothers use it as part of a vaudevillian song and dance routine.

Masks. Costumes, Padding. Stilts. Fabric Puppets, Objects and Accessories/Puppet- Like Movements These two categories are combined because it is difficult to distinguish between their uses on film. Artaud's suggestion for the use of puppets and masks may certainly be applied to thestage. Harpo and Chaplin bothn use an abundance of masks, costumes, etc.

Harpo Obviously, Harpo's character would not be complete without the elements of the mask: he wears a nonrealistic wig; his oversized trench coat is filled with stolen goods; his top hat distinguishes him from any other character on film; he carries a bicycle horn mounted on a cane; no matter 192 where he is or what he is doing, a harp finds itself conveniently placed nearby. In addition to his character's mask, Harpo often wears more conventional masks. In A Day at the Races and Duck Soup, Harpo appears in a Sherlock Holmes costume; for the former he wears a fake moustache and smokes a pipe, and in the latter, he wears a mask on the back of his head. In Monkey Business Harpo actually poses as a camera, hiding within the camera's hood and then standing up when a photographer tries to take a picture. He poses as a coat rack in Horsefeathers and At the Circus. In contrast to the Marx Brothers' lack of animal movements, Harpo actually becomes a puppet in Horse Feathers. During a chase scene, Harpo joins a Punch and Judy show and sticks his face on top of a puppet's body. This scene does several things; first, it allows Harpo to use his facial gesture (the gookie) in connection with a puppet; second, it incorporates live actors and puppets into the action of the scene; third, it allows Harpo to have a scene with one of his comedic ancestors (Pulcinella). It should be noted that the Marx Brothers never abandoned their masks. The only evidence of Harpo's ever speaking on stage after creating his non-speaking character was at a dinner party when he got drunk. The brothers kept their stock characters long after the team had broken up, and Groucho made a second career by playing his film 193 personification on a television game show. Unlike Chaplin, the Marx Brothers never experimented with new masks.

Chaplin Chaplin also uses puppets and masks to great effect. The Chaplin mask has been discussed previously, but a note should be made that Chaplin was not afraid to abandon that mask. He retired Charlie the Tramp after Modern Times, using similar makeup to portray the barber and Hynkel in The Great Dictator. He created new makeup and masks in Monsieur Verdoux and Limelight, even allowing Calvero to have a stage identity from the past that looked vaguely like the tramp character. The dance of the dinner rolls is the most obvious use of the puppet-like movements in a Chaplin film, but he frequently used such movements in the establishment of his character. After being thrown through the machinery in Modern Times. Charlie uses two wrenches as ears and dances like a maniacal puppet toward the helpless workers. Chaplin uses animal and puppet-like gestures to mime what he desires in A King in New York. As the chicken in The Gold Rush, Chaplin uses both costume and puppet movement to tempt the starving Mack Swain.

In the category of "objects and accessories," Chaplin actually dresses as a tree to complete a dangerous mission in .Shoulder Arms. The costume is so convincing that, in one 194 scene, the audience is as stunned as the pursuing German soldier when Chaplin jumps off a tree stump and darts into the forest. Chaplin also uses the tree costume to help him complete a lazzo (clubbing his foes on the head when they walk by) already established in The Vagabond. Both Harpo and Chaplin use masks and puppet-like movements in the establishment of their characters. Once again, Chaplin uses his masks to achieve a relationship of expectation between his chosen character and the audience. Harpo uses the masks as a part of his established lazzi.

Movements in Timed Relation to Mechanically Controlled Puppets, Masks, Mirrors. Scenery. Furniture. Lighting and Objects The Marx Brothers The most famous demonstration of this concept would be the Groucho/Harpo mirror scene in Duck Soup. It must be remembered that the scene was the brainchild of director Leo McCrarey, and it was not an idea unique to the Marx Brothers. Joe Adamson even suggests that McCrarey stole the idea from Chaplin's The Floorwalker. Nevertheless, the actors actually time their movement to each other, as Groucho forces Harpo to imitate action in order to discover if he is actually standing in front of a mirror. As Adamson points out, the mirror is immaterial; it is the masquerade and the game that are important to the scene. In fact, Groucho walks completely through the mirror and around 195 Harpo, less interested in whether or not Harpo is a mirror image than he is in getting the best of Harpo in the game. With the exception of the Duck Soup mirror scene, the Marx Brothers rarely, if ever, incorporate movements timed in relation to mechanical objects. The previously mentioned pegasus scene in Love Happy allows Harpo to ride the lights on the sign, but he is not actually moving his body in sync with them. Harpo plays music on a cash register in Horsefeathers and Cocoanuts, but he does not manipulate his body to imitate the machine. The brothers often use other characters and each other as furniture pieces, but they do not attempt to move in sync with them.

Chaplin Chaplin moves in timed relation with nearly everything mentioned by Artaud. First, during a scene in The Circus, Charlie races into a circus funhouse to get away from a pursuing policeman. He is surrounded by mirrors and must find his way through the funhouse by carefully paying attention to movement. Later, the policeman chases Charlie into the funhouse again, and this time a struggle occurs between an infinite number of Charlies and policemen. In the same sequence, Charlie poses with a mechanical fisherman and devices his own mechanical movements. He creates a jnachine-scene, moving back and forth like the figures in a cuckoo clock. Later, when an enemy joins the scene, Charlie 196 continues the machine scene by rhythmically hitting his enemy in the head.

In Modern Times, Charlie the worker actually becomes part of the machine. After being caught on a conveyer belt, Charlie twists through the gears and cogs within the machine; and, continuing his machine-like duties as a worker, he actually tightens the screws inside. Then, upon being rescued, Charlie tries to tighten any round object he finds in the real world, including a man's nose and a woman's breasts. Later in the same film, Charlie's boss is caught in a machine and screams desperately for help. Charlie cannot figure out how to work the machine, and, in the middle of his experimentation, the whistle blows for lunch. Exhibiting machine-like traits himself, Charlie stops what he is doing and performs his daily ritual: he eats. In fact, he eats an entire lunch, even going so far as to maneuver a few bites through the cogs and gears and into his boss' mouth. When lunchtime ends, Charlie returns to his duties and begins working the machinery. The Marx Brothers may not have based their mirror scene on The Floorwalker, but Chaplin did create a very similar situation. Trying to escape a detective, Charlie runs into a larcenous floorwalker trying to escape the store. They are dressed in an almost identical manner, and they investigate each other by moving hands, arms, and objects. 197 They laugh about their physical similarity after discovering that the floorwalker carries a bag and Charlie carries a cane; however, the floorwalker sees the similarity as a chance for escape, so he switches clothing with Charlie. The Floorwalker also contains one of Chaplin's most famous uses of mechanical objects. An escalator going up to the second floor is placed conveniently in the center of the store, and it becomes the location for numerous chase scenes. Chaplin first establishes the presence of the escalator by going against its flow and descending it. This feat takes a great deal of effort. Later in the film he descends the escalator again, while the giant figure of Eric Campbell chases at his heels. In one scene Chaplin does a backflip in front of the escalator and then actually falls up its stairs. At another point, after running down the escalator to escape an enemy, Chaplin is faced with another enemy at the bottom, and he sits on the stairs and lets them convey him back to the second floor. At the end of the film, an elevator that has been traveling up and down in pursuit of Charlie crashes into the unyielding body of Eric Campbell. This crash contrasts to the near ballet Chaplin has executed on a machine-like stairway. Chaplin regularly times his movement with mechanically controlled mechanisms, puppets, and actors. The mirror scene in Duck Soup is one instance of such movement in the 198 Marx Brothers, but they do not use this technique with any consistency.

An Eclectic Array of Movement Styles This category, very obviously, is fulfilled by both Chaplin and the Marx Brothers as a team. Like the masks, however, the Marx Brothers never varied from their characters' established movements. Chaplin played with several movement styles.

The Marx Brothers Groucho, Harpo, and Chico are as famous for their walks as they are for their individual masks. Combined, the team uses three different physical qualities; Groucho walks with a distinct stoop and uses energy from his legs to glide across the room; Harpo bounces like a child from place to place, often breaking out in a dead run and, at least in the early films, hardly ever standing still; Chico's body position seems to be half way between Groucho and Harpo, and he often thrusts his head forward and slumps his shoulders. When Zeppo was a part of the team, he adopted a "normal" style, moving like the ordinary people in the film. Once these styles were established they were not changed. Even in Love Happy, when the team (minus Zeppo) appears finally to have succumbed to old age, they attempt to achieve the same movement style. 199

Chaplin Chaplin's array of movement styles is the subject of Dan Kamin's study. In it, Kamin demonstrates how Chaplin progressed from being a child-like, violent figure in the early silent films into being a more refined character in the later films. He manipulated his body movement through the positioning of his center of energy, and he allowed the head, shoulders, back, arms and legs to help him convey Charlie's emotion in a given scene. In contrast to the Marx Brothers, who stayed with the same slapstick movement and styles throughout their careers, Chaplin incorporated the various parts of his body in conveying emotion and, consequently, to establish pathos. The difference is simple; for Chaplin, the body is a tool for conveying emotion and thought. For the Marx Brothers, the bodies are tools in achieving characters and create character-related lazzi.

Gestures and Actions that Contradict a Character's Intentions The Marx Brothers The Marx Brothers do not reveal their inner desires enough to discuss whether their actions are contradicting them. The closest they come to fitting into this category is the long list of swindles Chico pulls on Groucho. 200 Although he acts like a friend, Chico cheats Groucho out of money for a horserace in A Day at the Races. $70 for a train ticket in Go West, and any possibility for profit during an auction in The Cocoanuts. It is, however, impossible to say that the Marx Brothers make gestures and actions that contradict their intentions because it is hard to know what those intentions are. Their outward actions speak, and most of those actions are designed to set up lazzi or punch lines.

Chaplin Chaplin continually acts in ways that contradict his inner desires. In The Vagabond, despite being in love with a girl, he allows her to go away with another man. In City Lights he goes to jail in order to obtain enough money to help restore a blind girl's sight. In The Pilgrim, he returns money he did not steal and is exposed as a criminal. In The Circus. his inner desires occur in a daydream, and the audience knows Charlie's inner pain when he helps his love marry someone else. Chaplin enriched the character and gained audience empathy by allowing glimpses of his inner desires.

The Goals of Cruelty An expansion of Rose's categories assists in further understanding Chaplin and Harpo's relationships to Artaud. 201 As explored in the last chapter, the Marx Brothers are often labeled as being "cruel" because of their anarchy against the establishment. A close examination of Chaplin, however, reveals a greater challenge to the establishment than that shown by the Marx Brothers. While the Marx Brothers tore down society, but their attack on the social mores and conventions seemed more a result of their Vaudevillian foundations than a political statement. Harpo tries to break the arms of societal blue- bloods because he destroys everything around him, whether or not it is a part of society. The team often sides with a boy and girl who are in love, but their support of the couple appears more out of convenience than out of rebellion against authority. One should not forget that the love story thread running through most of the Marx Brothers films was a formula regularly used by the major motion picture companies. The Marx Brothers did not choose these stories to support rebelliousness; they became involved with the stories in order to justify stringing a series of Vaudevillian gags into a film. Chaplin, however, deliberately chose to play a character in conflict with the upper class, and he is usually pitted against social norms. Throughout their careers, the Marx Brothers' characters are employed in a host of jobs: Harpo is a dogcatcher in Horsefeathers; Groucho is a veterinarian in A Day at the Races; Harpo is 202 called "the Professor" in Animal Crackers while Groucho is a real professor in Horsefeathers; Groucho is actually the president of his own country in Duck Soup. In contrast, although Chaplin often changes jobs, he rarely escapes a subservient role. He plays a fireman, a policeman, a host of waiters and store workers, drunks, and even a criminal- on-the-run posing as a preacher in The Pilgrim. He is rarely in a position of authority and often is an unemployed bum. Chaplin plays a member of the upper class only a few films: in The Rounders he appears to belong to a respectable family, but he comes home drunk; in the Burlesque of Carmen he is an incompetent junior officer in a parody of high-brow opera; in The Great Dictator and The Idle Class he is double cast as both a member of the upper crust and as a person who does not quite fit into society. In short, Chaplin is usually cast as a tramp or a dredge of society, and he rebels against the restraints society has put on him. After all, what prevents a tramp from falling in love with a blind flower girl (City Lights), a star in the circus (The Circus), or a dance hall girl (The Gold Rush)? Chaplin's tramp, Charlie, is the true rebel against society, often proving to his audience that the common man can overcome insurmountable odds and achieve happiness. 203 Artaudian Violence A final element of Artaud that must be considered involves the goals of the Theater of Cruelty. Artaud sought to purge his audience and create a ritualistic cleansing in order to save his audience from violence. He often created a mixture of violent and religious images, deliberately attempting to shock his audience into some kind of action. During their early films, both Chaplin and Harpo are offensively violent. Chaplin quickly abandoned the slapstick violence, however, and developed a more sympathetic character by using many of the Artaudian conventions discussed in this chapter. Harpo, on the other hand, lessened the degree of violence but failed to move toward developing a three-dimensional character and, somehow, lost many of the traits that made his character unique.

The Marx Brothers In the pre-Thalberg films, Harpo is senselessly violent, especially toward women. In Animal Crackers, the girl-chasing role is reversed, and Harpo himself is seduced. He responds first by kissing the woman's hand and then trying to break her arm. The arm-breaking lazzo is a repeated gag, first occurring in The Cocoanuts when Harpo was approached by Margaret Dumont. Along with the occasional arm breaking, the pre-Thalberg Harpo often 204 threatens to hit women. In Cocoanuts, he threatens Dumont with the back of his hand when she offers to kiss him as a reward. During a card game in Animal Crackers, he hurts his hand and then threatens to slap a woman across the face when she tries to kiss it. All four Marx Brothers hurl fruit at Margaret Dumont when she sings at the end of Duck Soup. The violence goes further; Harpo punches her in the belly, wrestling her and attempting to throw her to the ground. He pulls a blackjack and takes a swing at a female as Chico lists the games they like to play—"Blackjack, soccer . . ." In his attempt to give the Marx Brothers a heart, Thalberg stopped all such senseless violence. After Thalberg died, Harpo was left in limbo and, in effect, lost his character after the limitations were imposed upon him. Furthermore, he did not adapt or explore new character traits after Thalberg's death. The post-Thalberg Harpo is a Harlequin without the tricks; he no longer has a child-like, trickster quality, and his behavior seems misguided and often without focus. Chaplin Chaplin became purged by the violence in an Artaudian sense. He both justified and lessened his violence by allowing the audience to see into his inner desires. Harpo revealed no inner desires, and when the violence was purged from his character, he lost any sense of that character. In other words, Chaplin underwent an Artaudian transformation: 205 he moved from being an extremely violent character in his early films into a less violent, though still socially abnormal creature. Harpo's mask was so defined by the violent acts that he lost his identity. Violent acts in Chaplin's early films are routine. The Keystone, Essanay, and Mutual films are filled with kicks to the buttocks, smacks to the face, pratfalls, tumbles, and senseless violent acts. The tramp character is often mean, vengeful and sadistic. It is interesting to note that Chaplin "purges" himself of this violence after his "workshopping" through the short films. The later Charlie sometimes has a bit of a mean streak, but most of his actions are justified. In this case, the comedian purged himself of the violence inherent in slapstick lazzi and developed a more fully developed personality.

Summary This chapter has taken a close look at Chaplin and Harpo in the context of Artaud's Theater of Cruelty and has identified how each element played a role in the development of their characters. Chaplin uses many of Artaud's principles in establishing a bond between himself and his audience and, therefore, creating a Pierrot-like character that allows the audience to experience his feelings of pain. Harpo and the Marx Brothers do not fully conform to Artaud, and although they sometimes use Artaudian elements, there is 206 no reason to single them out as examples of the Theater of Cruelty. Furthermore, the Marx Brothers were not able to use effectively the Artaudian elements as explored by Chaplin, and they failed to establish pathos and sympathy. The Artaudian elements reveal how Harpo Marx stayed at one level and remained a Harlequin figure, while Charlie Chaplin developed a pathos for his fully developed Tramp. CHAPTER VII THE SEARCH FOR STYLE: CHAPLIN AND MEYERHOLD Stanislavski's famous tour of the United States introduced his "Method" to scrutiny and exploration in the West, but his contemporary rival, Vesvolod Meyerhold, has been neglected by the West through most of the twentieth century. Edward Braun's translations of Meyerhold's writings into English have triggered new focus on the theorist, and Meyerholdian theory is quickly gaining favor in American acting and directing programs. Although there is little evidence that he studied Meyerhold's theories, many of Charlie Chaplin's acting and directing techniques parallel Meyerhold's writings. Chaplin's methodology and evolution created in early American film the type of "workshopping" of ideas and experimentation with story and structure that Meyerhold sought in Russian theatre. By observing the similarities in their methods, the theatre or film student may better understand both the importance and influence of Meyerhold's theory of Biomechanics, and Chaplin's work as an actor and director. Meyerhold's teaching will be compared with Chaplin's practical application of a similar thought process and evolution of style. Of special interest is Chaplin's use of Biomechanical methodology in both the creation and direction of action.

207 208 The methods of both Chaplin and Meyerhold are rooted in classical tradition. Although both men experimented with style and their approach to theatre evolved throughout their careers, they retained their links with classical elements such as the Commedia dell'Arte mask and the training of the body to accomplish feats of physical agility in order to achieve a complete theatrical event. Both men controlled every aspect of their productions. For Meyerhold, the text belonged to the director rather than the actor or the playwright, and it could be manipulated and distorted in order to achieve an emotional goal. Meyerhold worked within a "studio," in which workshopping, or experimentation with action and manipulation of the text yielded a product that would not necessarily be performed in front of an audience. Chaplin created stories on film, shooting and re-shooting scenes in an effort to discover how a series of gags might fit into a given story. Meyerhold produced a theatre of action, utilizing gesture and extravagant movement to symbolize emotion. Chaplin relied on action without words, depending in his silent films on visual imagery and musical scores to evoke emotion within the audience. Both men, however, remained steeped in tradition; Chaplin learned his trade in the London music hall, gaining a command of pantomime and traditional gags; Meyerhold taught his actors to use the mask and the lazzi of the Commedia dell'Arte. 209 Meyerhold Biomechanics According to Edward Braun, Meyerhold's system of "Biomechanics" was a Taylorisation of the theatre. Frederick Winslow Taylor, whose system of saving time and energy in the industrial worker inspired Meyerhold to apply conservativism of movement to acting, suggested that efficient workers use minimal movement to achieve maximum productivity. In an excerpt taken from Meyerhold's lecture on the future of acting, the theorist claims that a skilled worker will demonstrate an absence of superfluous, unproductive movement, a sense of rhythm, a stabilized body position, and a sense of the body's center of gravity (Braun, 1969, 198). Applying the conservation of movement in the body to acting theory, Meyerhold claimed that an actor of the future must possess a capacity for "reflex excitability" and "physical confidence," granting him complete control over his body. Furthermore, he defined "reflex excitability" as an ability "to realize in feelings, movements and words a task which is prescribed externally" and that excitability may be manifested by the actor's using a complete acting cycle consisting of intention, "the intellectual assimilation of a task," realization, "the cycle. . . of reflexes" and reaction, "the transition to a new acting cycle" (Braun, 201). In Meyerhold at Work, Schmidt explains that "Meyerhold's theatre concentrated on 210 the act of acting, not on acting as representing some kind of reality" (xiii).

Masks Meyerhold's actor of the future would be influenced by training in Meyerhold's Biomechanical system. Defining his curriculum for the dramatist, Meyerhold detailed a lengthy list of subjects for discussion, including circus and the theatre, Carlo Gozzi (who attempted to resurrect the Commedia dell'Arte), and mimesis and the mask. Also included in the course was a study of the Commedia dell'Arte itself, defined by Meyerhold as the basic principles of Italian comedy (152-153). Denying the use of psychological foundations and motivations for the actor, Meyerhold instead stressed physical manipulation of the body, theorizing that "a theatre which relies on physical elements is at very least assured of clarity" (199). The actor of the Meyerholdian future, therefore, will work "without make-up and wear an overall, that is, a costume designed to serve as everyday clothing yet equally suited to the movements . . . on the stage" (199). The actor, however, will not be without his props. Meyerhold stresses the importance of an actor's finding himself on the stage within a physical mask, inspired by the Arlecchino of the Commedia, an actor with a range of emotions and human traits hidden behind a character. The 211 actor will discover both emotions and character traits through the mask itself. The actor who has mastered the art of gesture and movement (herein lies his power!) manipulates his mask in such a way that the spectator is never in any doubt about the character he is watching. . The mask enables the spectator to see not only the actual Arlecchino before him but all the Arlecchinos who live in his memory. Through the mask the spectator sees every person who bears the merest resemblance to the character. . . The actor is a dancer who can dance a graceful monferrina as well as a hearty English jig. The actor can turn tears to laughter in a few seconds. (131) This mask does not, of course, require an actual mask, but is, instead, a mask of physicality designed, in part, "to identify the character completely at his first appearance" (191). The audience does not even need to see actions; the character is complete with the mask. As Braun commented in his 1979 work. The Theater of Meyerhold, the term "mask" does not refer to the physical manifestation of the Commedia dell' Arte half mask: . . .but rather the style of acting which the mask signifies: the emotional detachment and physical dexterity that enable the actor to assume the various aspects of his part. . .and at the same time to comment—both implicitly and explicitly—on the actions of himself and his fellow characters, thereby affording the spectator a montage of images, a multi-faceted portrait of every role. (114)

Meyerhold and Chaplin Many of the concepts articulated by Meyerhold may be identified in Chaplin's methods of acting and directing. 212 First, Chaplin's use of the body and constant exploration of physical control is directly related to Meyerholdian theory. Second, Chaplin's moustache, derby hat, coat and cane may be related to Meyerhold's formula for the use of mask. Finally, Chaplin's ability to work beyond comic lazzi and develop drama within the character of the Little Tramp relates directly to Meyerhold's formula for the stage. His development of a tragi-comic figure was eventually recognized by Meyerhold as being "Chaplinism in film."

Chaplin's Mask Chaplin's mask is not the half-mask of the Commedia; instead, Chaplin uses the tiny moustache and white pancake makeup in order to let the spectator identify immediately with Charlie as a screen personification. As explained by Walter Kerr in The Silent Clowns. Chaplin did not immediately develop his screen personality into "the Little Tramp" but instead explored the character in a number of situations, "a waiter, a dentist, a wife, a cook, a caveman, a film actor." Then, after filming The Tramp, in which he integrated a hobo character defined by elements of pathos, Chaplin "went right on adopting new disguises, appearing as a paperhanger, a floorwalker, a fireman. . ." (81). Most of these characters and their various identities had one thing in common; the mask. It was made up not only of the derby. 213 moustache and cane but also involved Chaplin's stylized physical movement. A variety of stories surround the selection and piecing together of the Tramp costume. However, it is certain that the "mask" was constructed for Chaplin's second film; the first. Making a Living, was a one-reeler in which Chaplin wore the traditional top hat and cloak of a melodramatic villain. McDonald, Conway and Ricci argue that the costume was Chaplin's choice because "he had worn a similar costume on the stage in one of the acts of the Karno Pantomime Company" (26). Displeased with the results, Chaplin continued exploring and "discovered" the Little Tramp only five days later in Kid Auto Races at Venice (released February 7, 1914). A set situation around which Chaplin could improvise, this film saw "Charlie" observing a director filming an auto race. The action of the film consists of Charlie's attempt to be photographed. In My Autobiography, Chaplin wrote that the character of Charlie grew directly out of the tramp costume and "mask." I wanted everything to be a contradiction; the ants baggy, the coat tight, the hat small and the shoes large. . . I had no idea of the character. But the moment I was dressed, the clothes and make-up made me feel the person he was. I began to know him, and by the time I walked to the stage he was fully born. . . As the clothes had imbued me with the character, I decided then and there to keep this costume whatever happened. (145, 148) 214 Although it would take him years to become familiar with the confines of his chosen mask, Chaplin was inspired by the potential of the mask itself. When he wore it, Chaplin felt "Charlie" was "a reality, a living person. In fact he ignited all sorts of crazy ideas that I would never have dreamt until I was dressed and made up as the Tramp" (147). It is this discovery of character through a mask that Meyerhold described when he wrote that the Commedia mask enabled the spectator to see "all the Arlecchinos who live in his memory." Chaplin's chosen mask was, both in appearance and in personality, a variation on the Commedia dell'Arte Pierrot. It was inevitable that Chaplin would experiment within the confines of the mask in order to develop his art fully.

Chaplin's Use of the Body Dan Kamin's unique work, Charlie Chaplin's One Man Show, observes Chaplin from a dancer and mime's point of view, greatly detailing how Chaplin used his body on film. A biomechanical actor concentrates on the physical aspects of conveying emotion rather than attempting to feel a realistic emotion itself. In the early silent shorts, Chaplin had nothing but his body to convey feeling. Beginning with the rawest of human emotions, anger, Chaplin's first films with Keystone were a series of lazzi performed in conjunction with a group of actors and 215 situations to which Chaplin reacted. Included in these films are continual swift kicks in the buttocks (an action Kerr identified as being a turning point when Chaplin abandoned slapstick and justified a kick in The Pilgrim (The Silent Clowns, 78-79)), punches, pratfalls, and physical duels between the small-of-stature Charlie and large-of body antagonists. In the later films, Chaplin synchronized his complete control over the body with sound, still relying on the physical to manifest emotion, but using music to accentuate it. Furthermore, Kamin identifies Chaplin's "unique playing style" as being defined by his physicalities, commenting that the Tramp makeup reinforces the style instead of implementing it. In other words, the mask reinforces what already appears in the body. Kamin categorizes Chaplin's movement in terms of body parts. He identifies a variance in the manner of holding the head: in the early shorts it is "directly and squarely above his trunk" (8) as the key to the mask, identifying "his frequent attitude of puzzlement" toward the world. Then, as the character progresses and Chaplin becomes more interested in tragicomedy, the head moves backward "to indicate prideful elegance" (8). Furthermore, Kamin identifies a series of manners in which Chaplin presents his body to the camera, usually full-trunked and full-faced, to engage "immediate trust, sympathy, and empathy" (10). Use of the back and tilt forward of the pelvis indicate a feminine 216 quality or a dancer's stance, often twisting the body into dramatic curves, "... thus he can suggest a man, a child, or a woman, and he can flirt with both sexes" (12). He identifies the arms and legs as extensions of the trunk, contorting the body to match the character, twisting and curving with the emotion of the moment. Most important, perhaps, Kamin describes Chaplin's walk: But the "basic" walk—if one can be isolated— involves a sense, reinforced by his clothing, of weight in the legs and feet. . . a solidity and stillness at the center of gravity in the pelvis. . . The result of this posture and walk is the impression of a highly idiosyncratic, emotional, independent individual. (14)

Meyerhold's Emphasis on the Body This emphasis on the body is a basic requirement of the Meyerholdian studio. A candidate for examination is expected to have physical agility, as demonstrated by gymnastic or acrobatic exercises and improvised pantomime. In addition, candidates must show proficiency in music, physical agility, mimesis, diction, theory, history and art forms (155). Although he stressed movement, Meyerhold never emphasized the actual use of ballet. Once reaching the level of "comedian" in the Meyerhold studio by mastering control of the body, the student may be invited to take part in what Meyerhold defined as a new stylistic theatre with its roots based on physicalization and Commedia dell'Arte. Chaplin becomes a demonstration of Meyerholdian 217 Biomechanical experimentation, using the camera and the film medium as his training ground.

Dance Chaplin's control of the body is so advanced that his movements border on dancing. Nijinsky told Chaplin, "Your comedy is balletique, you are a dancer" (My Autobiography. 203). W. C. Fields went a step further, quipping, "He's the world's greatest ballet dancer, and if I ever meet the son of a bitch I'll murder him" (Gehring, 17). Chaplin often accompanied his physical action with musical scores (and later soundtracks). The result is a ballet of movement in which Chaplin's emotions are expressed through the actions of his body. In Meyerholdian terms, when describing musical theatre, "Man, performing in harmony with the mise en scene and the musical score, becomes a work of art in his own right . . . The dance is to the body what music is to thought: form artificially yet instinctively created" (85). Chaplin's use of "dance" movement to express the mise en scene relates directly to his use of the "Little Tramp" mask. In The Theatre and Its Double. Artaud defines the mise en scene as the backbone image of the play, and "the possibilities for realization in the theater relate entirely to the mise en scene considered as a language in space and 218 in movement" (45). Chaplin's body becomes the manifestation of the mise as he explores the physicalization of emotion.

Chaplin's Method as an Actor One A.M.

Chaplin's balletique movement and physical control are, perhaps, best demonstrated in One A.M., a twenty-minute film in which Kamin counts twenty-six falls. Working alone in everything but an introductory segment, Chaplin arrives home drunk and finds it impossible to enter his house and get into his bed. The film involves a series of pratfalls in which a drunken character staggers through a surrealistic home. A round table catches the edge of his coat and spins when he reaches for a drink. The over-sized pendulum on his clock hits him in the face and knocks him down a flight of stairs when he tries to go to the bedroom. After a series of incidents with the bed opening and closing into the wall, Chaplin finally collapses in the bathtub. The influence of circus and Commedia lazzi appear in the exaggerated number of falls in this short sequence. Although Soebel and Francis contend that Chaplin was unaware of the Commedia dell'Arte until late in his career (204- 205), he was most certainly aware of its traditions as presented in vaudeville and the British music hall. Chaplin toured with Karno's Pantomime troupe, and he played pantomime and used lazzi on the music hall stage. The 219 Russian theorist Uraneff wrote in 1923 that Chaplin "is always true to the great school of acting of the Italian improvisational theater" (328). One A.M.. it seems, is an exploration of commedia lazzi as well as an experimentation with style and technique. Chaplin de-emphasized plot and simply improvised in character around a situation. One A.M. is evidence of Chaplin's ability as an improvisational artist. Although the work was certainly planned and is not improvised on the spur of the moment, it is, nevertheless, the result of a series of improvisational exercises. Chaplin later revealed that the Mutuals were conceived and "written" on the set. In My Autobiography, Chaplin discusses his method of composition; Sometimes a story would present a problem and I would have difficulty in solving it. At this juncture I would lay off and try to think, striding up and down my dressing-room in torment or sitting for hours at the back of a set, struggling with a problem . . . Sometimes the solution came at the end of the day when I was in a state of despair, having thought of everything and discarded it; then the solution would suddenly reveal itself, as if a layer of dust had been swept off a marble floor. . . (188) Recently discovered out-takes from the Chaplin shorts reveal his method of working—a brutal, continual struggle with the story, an experimentation with gag after gag, perfected, polished, and often discarded. "If a gag interfered with the logical sequence of events," he explains in My Autobiography, "no matter how funny it was, I would 220 not use it" (208). Chaplin filmed his rehearsals, admitting, "I have turned as much as 60,000 feet of film to get the 2,000 seen in performance" (Delluc, 62-63). This method directly opposed that of the Marx Brothers.

Chaplin's Method as a Director Mv Autobiography occasionally digresses from story­ telling to discuss acting and directing theory. In a chapter relating the filming of The Kid. Chaplin reveals that he used a Meyerholdian technique of manipulating his actors. Speaking of child star Jackie Coogan, Chaplin explains that "he could apply emotion to the action and action to the emotion, and could repeat it time and time again without losing the effect of the spontaneity" (232). He was able to do this, of course, through a Meyerholdian manipulation of the mind and body, playing the action instead of attempting to feel the emotion in question. Chaplin explains that, after he displayed the exact action he desired to Coogan, the boy rehearsed the scene until the physical action became second nature to him; "Eventually he was so sure of the mechanics that his emotion came with them. In other words, the mechanics induced the emotion" (232). Chaplin's approach to directing Jackie Coogan may be compared with Meyerhold, who explained that "psychological states are determined by specific physiological processes." It is through the physical action of the body that the 221 Meyerholdian actor reaches a state of emotion—in other words, the emotion is achieved through the action of the emotion. "By correctly resolving the nature of his state physically, the actor reaches the point where he experiences the excitation which communicates itself to the spectator. . . " (Braun, 199). In their 1983 documentary. The Unknown Chaplin, Brownlow and Gill examine some of what remains of Chaplin's film rushes in order to reveal his directorial technique. The rushes demonstrate two things; first, Chaplin as film­ maker created his stories as he filmed, improvising and experimenting throughout the process; and second, Chaplin as director showed his actors exactly what he wanted, often playing out roles and demanding that they imitate his exact movements. Like Meyerhold, Chaplin asked the actor to concentrate on physical gesture rather than emphasizing emotional justification. Virginia Cherrill, the blind girl in City Lights, was forced over and over to hand "Charlie" a flower, imitating Chaplin's exact motions. When Cherrill admitted her lack of training, Chaplin told her, "If you had any training, you'd have to unlearn it." Robert Parish, a newsboy in City Lights. explained that "he directed us by being us," and "he acted every little bit" to the actors before and during the filming. Georgia Hale, the leading lady in The Gold Rush, explained, "He didn't just direct it. He played it with me." Chaplin's secretary explained that 222 his most frequent direction was very simple; "Don't act" (Delluc, 46).

Allowing himself a few pages for commentary on acting and directing, Chaplin admits, "I have never studied acting, but as a boy I was fortunate in living in an era of great actors and I acquired an extension of their knowledge and experience" (255). Chaplin's informal training consisted of learning tricks of the trade both from other actors and from trial and error. John McCabe writes in Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy that Stan Laurel and Charlie Chaplin share a "magnificent heritage" because they played in the English music hall. "They had early on learned the hard lesson of pantomime. A music hall artist frequently was forced to play the halls of Europe for economic reasons, and in this way, it became necessary for him not to depend on language" (37). Chaplin the mime also learned relaxation techniques and bodily control. Once again echoing Meyerhold, Chaplin explains that the effective actor gains complete control over his body and is, essentially, relaxed. . . .but an actor especially must have restraint and inner containment. No matter how frenzied the scene, the technician within the actor should be calm and relaxed, editing and guiding the rise and fall of his emotions—the outer man excited and the inner controlled. Only through relaxation can an actor achieve this. (254) The idea of inner relaxation and outer excitement may be directly compared to Meyerhold's reference to psychological 223 states and physiological processes. In My Autobiography, Chaplin writes that the actor's physical control is far more important than his mental understanding. "The theory that one must know a character's life story is unnecessary" (255). Chaplin does not mention Meyerhold in his discussion of theory, but he does mention Stanislavksi's ideal of "inner truth." Stressing that the individual personality of the actor will be exhibited in any dramatic portrayal, Chaplin interprets the inner truth as "being it" instead of "acting it," and combines this idea with empathy. "This part of acting cannot be taught," he warns, admitting that otherwise he knows very little about what he calls the "Method school of acting." He passes judgement, however, on the American interpretation of Stanislavski's emotion memory. I abhor dramatic schools that indulge in reflections and introspections to evoke the right emotion. The mere fact that a student must be mentally operated upon is sufficient proof that he should give up acting. (255)

His method of dealing with an actor is far more Meyerholdian than Stanislavskian because he concentrates on the physical action rather than the emotion. Chaplin's actors granted him the performances he sought by imitating the action of the emotion and then letting the biological results follow the action. In addition, Chaplin describes 224 psychologically manipulating actors to achieve desired results. Although knowing what I wanted, I would take the new member aside and confide in him that I was tired, worried and at a loss to know what to do with a scene. Very soon he would forget his own nervousness and try to help me and I would get a good performance out of him. (251) As for his own acting theory, Chaplin developed a Meyerholdian approach in tackling a role. Describing an appearance on the "legit" stage, Chaplin explained, "Every line I spoke got a laugh. Only mechanics bothered me. . . Paradoxically enough, it was easier for me to talk lines than to carry out stage business" (80-81). By the time he arrived at Keystone, however, Chaplin was thinking in Meyerholdian terms. In speaking of camera placement, Chaplin explained "economy of movement is important. . ." (152). In a 1918 essay, "What People Laugh At," Chaplin explains that it is the subtle movements of the body that are funny, and he prescribes "an economy of means" in allowing one incident to achieve several laughs at once. The physicalization of emotion was so important to him, even at this early stage in his career, that he often used "as much as sixty thousand feet (of film) in order to get the two thousand feet seen by the public" (my note; MacCann, 100-101). Chaplin's ostensibly wasteful method of reshooting scene after scene helped him to achieve an economy of means in the final cut of the film. Similarly, 225 Meyerhold's tedious rehearsal process reached for a final product that stressed economy of movement.

The Development of Pathos In 1936 (the year Chaplin filmed Modern Times), Meyerhold delivered a lecture, "Chaplin and Chaplinism," in which he identified Chaplin as a representative of the drama of the future: tragicomedy. Having earlier defined the actor as a dancer who can turn laughter to tears within seconds, Meyerhold identifies the still-evolving Chaplin as an actor/director whose work corresponds with his own. Dismissing most of the early silent films, Meyerhold argues that Chaplin grew as an artist by eliminating "all excessive hyperbole and sheer knockabout from his clowning" and concentrating on the relationship between actor and audience. "Through the comedy one glimpses elements of tragedy" (Braun, 1969, 312), and by glimpsing the tragic, the audience develops a sense of empathy or understanding with the character. Chaplin achieves pathos, or an evocation of emotional response from the audience, completing Meyerhold's desired relationship between actor, director, and audience. Meyerhold explains, "I have seen people wiping the tears from their eyes at these films. Yet one's first reaction to Chaplin is to smile" (316).

Chaplin's development of pathos is directly related to Charlie's ability to sacrifice himself for the good of 226 Others. Not until Charlie's selfless acts in Citv Lights does the character completely define himself and achieve a full tragicomic existence. An element of pathos, however, developed early and evolved through the progression of Chaplin's films. Writing about the September, 1914, film. The N^w Janitor, Chaplin tells of miming a "mock sentiment" scene in which the janitor begs for his job. After the scene he noticed an actress who wept openly despite knowing "it's supposed to be funny." Chaplin claims "she confirmed something I already felt; I had the ability to evoke tears as well as laughter" (155). He began looking for opportunities to mix the dramatic with the comic. In The Tramp (February, 1914), Chaplin allows Charlie to evoke pity from the audience. He saves a girl from thieves and expects her love in return. When the tramp is jilted, he walks down a lonely road, shoulders slumped, completely defeated. Just before the camera irises out, however, the tramp recovers the energy in his walk, and the audience is assured that the tramp will recover from his sorrow. This film evokes an emotional response for the main character, but it does not reach the point of maturity that Meyerhold would refer to as "Chaplinism," or tragicomedy. Meyerhold identified The Vagabond (1916) as Chaplin's first true achievement of sympathetic pity from the audience. This time Charlie is a vagabond violinist who rescues and falls in love with a girl captured and enslaved 227 by gypsies. When she is infatuated with another man, Charlie is once again left to face the world on his own. The audience is inspired to pity Charlie because he must resign himself to loneliness and despair. The film was given a somewhat forced happy ending, however, because the girl returns to take Charlie with them. David Robinson describes a legendary alternative ending in which Charlie attempts suicide by diving into a river. He is rescued by an ugly farm girl; however, after seeing her face, he dives back into the water. Such an ending creates a tragicomic irony that might have allowed Chaplin to further develop the character of Charlie at this early point in his career. A similar situation occurs in The Circus. when Charlie resigns himself to the knowledge that the girl he loves is in love with someone else. This time Charlie helps the couple marry and then chooses not to accept their invitation to travel with the circus. Once again, Charlie resigns himself to fate. It is in City Lights that Charlie finally makes a sacrifice for someone and matures completely into the mask of the Pierrot. The audience is first able to empathize with Charlie's love for a blind girl, and then it observes Charlie make a series of sacrifices to save the girl and her home. In City Lights Chaplin completes his evolutionary growth into tragicomedy. 228 In "Charlie the Kid," Meyerhold's pupil, Sergei Eisenstein, writes that Charlie sees the world through a baby's amoral eyes. The peculiarity of Chaplin consists in the fact that, despite his gray hairs, he has preserved a "child's outlook" and a spontaneous perception of events. Hence his freedom from the "manacles of morals" and his ability to see in a comic spectacle that which causes others' flesh to creep. Such a trait in an adult is called "infantilism" (110). It is this mask of infantilism that separates Chaplin from Harpo and equates him with the experimentation and classical tradition of Meyerhold. If Chaplin is a child, Harpo is a baby. If Chaplin has a spontaneous perception of events, Harpo is oblivious to them. If Chaplin has an amoral freedom, Harpo is free because he thinks the rest of the world is free. Chaplin is a child in a real, adult- oriented world. He sees the constraints of others but refuses to be bound by them. He wears a classical Meyerholdian mask and views the world through a child's perspective. Harpo refuses to view the world at all, because he is so self-involved that he scarcely notices others. Eisenstein pairs Chaplin and "actuality itself, partners together, a pair in a harness" who perform for us as if they were in a circus. Eisenstein concludes: "Actuality is like a serious white clown" (126). 229 Summary Meyerhold and Chaplin used similar techniques for different ends. Once Chaplin established Charlie's "mask," he refused to allow Charlie to emerge from silent film and kept him within the medium in which he was created. This tenacity on the part of Chaplin was, in part, a result of his classical training—even though Chaplin did not study in a school or under a formal theorist, his pantomime and improvisational abilities were well defined by his origins in the music hall. Chaplin realized that the mask and magic of the Tramp would be destroyed by putting Charlie in a sound film. Walter Kerr's discussion of City Lights argues that the film was the climactic moment in Chaplin's career, and during the final scene, Charlie the Tramp reaches his ultimate dramatic moment. It may be argued that Chaplin accomplished something Meyerhold was unable to finish; that is, Chaplin explored the complete progression of his mask from slapstick comedy into pathos and tragicomedy. His sacrifice in city Lights is the ultimate Christ-like act of the Pierrot. The finale, when the blind girl discovers Charlie's sacrifice, is the consummation of Charlie's mask. "The truth is out and the truth is a stone wall. Nothing can be said, no further gesture can be made. . . Chaplin has remade the world in his own despairing, but unyielding, image" (Kerr, 352). The character grew even more Christ- 230 liJ^e in Modern Times, when he dedicated himself to keeping care of his young companion. Chaplin used a variation on the Tramp in The Great Dictator, and then abandoned the character completely in his sound films. In contrast, Meyerhold never finished his great experiment with classical style. Recently released documents show that Meyerhold was arrested by Stalin and died in the Soviet concentration camps. The idea is intriguing, because Meyerhold never spoke out against the state and openly participated in Stalinistic propaganda. The fates of these two dramatists are linked to their geological locations. Chaplin explored and experimented throughout his career, eventually abandoning the classical mask but never denying his classical roots. Meyerhold never gained full acceptance in the Soviet Union, and after his death he was disavowed by the state. Only recently has Meyerhold begun to return to prominence. CHAPTER VIII MEYERHOLD AND THE COMMEDIA DELL'ARTE: A DISCUSSION OF LAZZI AND HOW THEY APPLY TO CHAPLIN AND HARPO

The association of Charlie Chaplin and Harpo Marx with specific lazzi mentioned in historical records of the Commedia dell'Arte may be applied to the two artists' relationships with the ideas of Russian theorist, Vsevovlod Meyerhold. The similarities between Meyerhold's system of Biomechanics and Chaplin's acting and direction have already been discussed. This chapter will concentrate specifically on the Commedia dell'Arte and Meyerhold's reintroduction of the Commedia into a theater dominated by Naturalism and Realism. A brief discussion of the importance of Meyerhold and his Symbolist approach to theatre will be given, and then there will be an attempt to explain how Meyerhold's theories may be applied to vaudeville and early film comedy. A detailed examination of Commedia lazzi will follow, and Mel Gordon's scholarly listing of the various acts in his book, Lazzi. will be employed as a guide through the Commedia. An effort will be made to examine Harpo and Chaplin in each of Gordon's major categories, and specific lazzi will be described. Examples from the films of Chaplin and the Marx Brothers will be given.

231 232 In order to complete an effective discussion, a link must first be made between Meyerhold and the Commedia dell'Arte. Meyerhold was, at first, connected with Stanislavsky, Chekov, Nemirovich-Danchenko and the Moscow Art Theater. In The Theater of Meyerhold. Braun describes Russia's theater prior to this institution as "dominated by illustrious actors who made their own laws and admitted no change." The director was a "functionary who supervised rehearsals," costumes came from the actors, and stage design was "nonexistent" (20). The Russian theatre was, furthermore, dominated by Romanticism and Melodrama, often filled with declamations and expositions. Brockett writes that although Russian plays in the late nineteenth century fell into the Realistic school, the public theaters performed "melodrama, farce, musical drama and romantic spectacles" (534). A visit to Russia from the German director, the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, impacted the Russian theatre, just as the visit of the Moscow Art Theatre would later affect America. Originally formed in 1898, the Moscow Art Theater gave a voice to the rising movements of Realism and its more extreme form. Naturalism, which served as a transition between nineteenth century acting and the Modernist period. According to historian Oscar Brockett, the Naturalist playwright was to search for truth and "observe, record, and experiment with the same detachment as the scientist" (551). 233 The movement attempted to achieve a "slice of life" on the stage and "obliterated virtually all distinction between art and life." Naturalism did not have a long life on stage, but a less extreme form of Naturalism, Realism, became the dominant force in twentieth century acting and directing theory. As defined by John Harrop and Sabin Epstein, Realism was a reaction to the scientific inquiry developed at the end of the nineteenth century that focused on the individual and human motivations for actions. Naturalism was Realism taken to an extreme; Realism was an attempt to understand "motivation for action and relationship to the social and economic limitations and opportunities of that society" (167). The theater began an extreme focus on the inner workings of the mind, and it concentrated on subtextual motivation for character. The best explanation of these ideas came from the works of Stanislavsky, who transformed the Russian director into what Danchenko called "the regisseur," who instructs, mirrors, and organizes the drama. Stanislavsky is best known in the United States for his acting texts and the formation of what has become known as "The Method." Despite a series of variations by Lee Strasberg and other Americans, "The Method" involved a realistic approach to the text by training the actor to consider his or her own background in connection with the character. Stanislavsky expressed his life teachings in a series of four books: An Actor Prepares. Building a 234 Character, Creating a Rnl^^ and Mv Life in Art. As identified by Sonia Moore, Stanislavsky's method consists of nine elements of an action; the "Magic If," where the actor asks, "what would I do if I were in this situation?"; "Given Circumstances," where the actor places himself or herself in the situation described by the playwright (i.e., the time and place, etc,); the actor uses elements of the "Imagination," including subtextual character motives and backgrounds to fill in the various shades of the character's life; the actor uses physical exercises to achieve a "Concentration of Attention" on the play; an actor learns to adapt to the role by making "truthful" actions ("Truth/Belief"); the actors communicate their message to the audience by establishing a "Communion" with each other; the actor overcomes physical obstacles by "Adaptation" as a means of executing action; the actor seeks to find the "Tempo-Rhythm" of the language within a given text; the actor is able to portray certain feelings and emotions by equating the character's dilemma with something that actually happened in the actor's life (Emotional Memory). The idea of Emotion Memory is most often associated with Stanislavsky's "Method" because American actor/director Lee Strasberg's "Group Theater" in America stressed Emotion Memory and Inner Truth over the other concepts. In his work. My Life in the Russian Theatre, director Nemirovich- Danchenko explains that the actor in Realistic theatre 235 "should not act anything; decidedly not a thing; neither feelings, nor moods, nor situations, nor words, nor styles, nor images. All this should come of itself from the individuality of the actor, an individual liberated from stereotyped forms. . ." He refers to the actor as the controller of the piece because the author and regissuer have "died in him" and have been "resurrected in the innumerable observations and impressions experienced by him in the course of his whole life ..." (154-155). Meyerhold began his career as a proponent of this theory, but he soon found himself restricted by efforts to keep performance in a purely natural vein. His experience with the Commedia dell'Arte may be related to one of his roles as an actor in the Moscow Art Theatre, Landowski, a manifestation of the Commedia Pierrot. This role is one of his first contacts with the tradition of the Commedia dell'Arte, and the Commedia became highly important in Meyerhold's later experimentation. Braun writes that over the years Pierrot "became the new Everyman" and his "genealogy would be far from complete without the name of Meyerhold" (Theatre of Meverhold. 1986, 30). Meyerhold left the Moscow Art Studio in 1902, but Stanislavsky quickly gave him control over an experimental studio intended to perform Symbolist works by Maeterlink and others. As opposed to Naturalism, Symbolism sought a deeper meaning than what is seen in nature, and it employed 236 symbols, legends, and myths to represent deep, hidden meaning. Although Meyerhold was quickly relieved of his duties at the theatre, his delving into Symbolism and movement away from Naturalism began a life long series of theatrical experiments that paved the way for a re-entry of the Commedia dell'Arte into modern theatre. As a director, Meyerhold dominated the creative process, going so far as to depersonify the actors in an attempt to achieve the illusion on stage. One method of depersonification included the use of Commedia dell'Arte masks and stereotypical characters. In addition, the script was altered to meet the needs of the actor and the director. Meyerhold rebelled against a Naturalistic tradition in Russian theatre and created a stylized Symbolism, using masks and techniques from the Commedia dell'Arte. It was this revitalization of the Commedia dell'Arte that re­ established Commedia in the forefront of theatre and allowed Vaudevillians and silent film artists to re-establish Commedia styles and characters as a part of their performances. Meyerhold's theories of the director established an even stronger reguisseur than Stanislavsky; Meyerhold as a director controlled every aspect of the production, and he openly experimented with theatrical forms.

Vadim Uraneff, a disciple of Meyerhold, claimed that Commedia technique and characters were being reborn on the 237 American vaudeville during the 1920s in his article, "Commedia dell'Arte and American vaudeville." Among the reasons for the revival, Uraneff listed the stress on character over plot or literary form, the use of mask and symbolic representation over realistic situations, stylization in gesture, and use of comic gags, or lazzi, to get laughs. The Commedia approach "set the Actor free of bondage to the Author" (321) and allowed free improvisation around loose plots. Uraneff cites Chaplin as the performer who is most true to the traditions of Italian comedy. It is, therefore, important to look at Chaplin and Harpo in the context of the Commedia dell'Arte in order to understand exactly what kind of connection may be made between the two. The most obvious link between the two comedians and the Commedia is the lazzi. Mel Gordon defines the lazzi as "discrete, or independent, comic and repeatable activity that guaranteed laughs for its participants" (5). Riccobini called the use of lazzi "interruptions," and Niklaus calls them pauses in the comedy due to the improvised nature of the play that are filled with tumbling, acrobatics and music. Sobel and Francis call it a "paen of praise to chaos" or like a "mouse giving birth to a mountain" (112). The traditional derivation of the word comes from the word "ribbon," and Riccobini theorized that lazzi held the performance together. Gordon argues that they did no such thing and often diverted attention from the 238 scenario itself. The lazzo is, nevertheless, the element most often associated with the Commedia. Gordon interprets French theorist Constant Mic as dividing the lazzi into three categories: lazzi that arose from the occasion; lazzi that were expected; lazzi that were a part of the actual texts as contrived business. Applying Mic's categories to Chaplin and Harpo, it may be argued that both comedians used the lazzi as a contrived piece of business within the text. In addition, the Marx Brothers used musical lazzi (i.e., Harpo and Chico playing musical instruments) that were anticipated by the audience. The use of Commedia techniques also justifies and explains how Chaplin and Harpo created their characters, and how Chaplin developed from being a zanni into a fully developed, three-dimensional Pierrot. As seen in the last chapter, the pathos of the Pierrot was not fully developed until the nineteenth century, and Commedia went through a great transformation in which the characters outlived the style of improvisation. Harrop and Epstein, attempting to explain to young actors how to approach a Commedia character, explain that motivation is unimportant in Commedia because "the mask is all ... As long as they are consistent among members of the troupe, gestures and movements may be exaggerated as the relationship with the audience demands and allows." (147). Meyerhold's use of masks and Commedia-symbolic acting contrasted the Naturalism 239 on the Russian stage. Chaplin and the Marx Brothers also used masks and symbolic gestures, and they recreated a Commedia dell'Arte on the screen. Gordon's excellent work, Lazzi. identifies twelve separate categories of lazzi in the Commedia dell'Arte; Acrobatic and mimic lazzi; acts of comic violence and sadistic behavior; food lazzi; illogical lazzi; the use of stage properties as lazzi; sexual/scatological lazzi; social class/rebellion lazzi; stage life/duality lazzi; stupidity and inappropriate behavior lazzi; transformation lazzi; trickery lazzi; and lazzi of word play. Lists of lazzi are given in numerous texts, but Gordon's is the most complete listing to date. In addition, Gordon describes the lazzi themselves in short, three to five sentence definitions. Gordon serves as an excellent starting point for a study of Chaplin and Harpo's lazzi. Although Chaplin is often called a Pierrot, there are only a few instances in which writers link his work with the Commedia lazzi. Sobel and Francis explore a limited number of lazzi in Chaplin: Genesis of a Clown. They specifically concentrate on what Gordon would call acrobatic and mimetic lazzi, sexual lazzi, and the use of stage props as lazzi. For instance, Sobel and Francis are particularly interested in the large number of kicks to the buttocks in the early Chaplin shorts, comparing them to the lazzi of the enema. Such a comparison is certainly valid, because the kick was a 240 recurring event in all the early Chaplin shorts. In addition, they discuss the use of props, including Charlie's dismantling of an alarm clock in The Pawnshop, and his exaggeration of dentist's tools in Laughing Gas. In addition, they mention "body gags" in which actors' bodies are bitten, kicked, hit, grabbed, and thrown. Sobel and Francis make some good points, but their study is incomplete and often inaccurate. For instance, they stretch several Chaplin gags in order to relate them to the Commedia. They are obsessed with the buttocks themselves, and they fail to make note of how the buttocks became less and less important as a comic device as the Pierrot in Chaplin became more developed. Sobel and Francis stretch the point on several lazzi; for instance, they draw a comparison between Chaplin's grabbing a woman's foot in The Floorwalker with the Harlequin's sexual positioning of his leg over the female body. This comparison would, in fact, be more accurately drawn with Harpo. There has not been a study of lazzi in connection with the Marx Brothers, but many of the actions mentioned by Sobel and Francis may be applied to the Marxes. For instance, the comic kick was a part of the longstanding fight routine between Harpo and Chico. They did not, however, use as many kicks as Chaplin and other silent movie stars. The use of comic props by the Marx Brothers has already been established, and the famous Marx screen 241 personalities were just as recognizable as masks as Chaplin's moustache and white makeup. A large number of lazzi mentioned by Gordon are relevant to both the Marx Brothers and Chaplin. The Gordon categories may serve as a starting point for an expanded study of the lazzi.

Acrobatic and Mimetic Lazzi Gordon identifies the Artaudian concept of imitating animals as being a part of this category. He also describes tumbling, stilt walking, handsprings, diving, and tightrope walking as a "means of locomotion" for the Commedia. Chaplin walked a tightrope in The Circus. and he did combinations of tumbles and handsprings in various chase scenes. He pantomimes diving and swimming without actually getting into a pool in The Cure.

Lazzo of the Ladder Gordon describes a number of lazzi that involve falling from a ladder and/or being hit with a ladder. The traditional gag of hitting people with a board or a long object is related to this lazzo. In order to complete the gag, three things must happen: first, the audience must be teased with the apparent danger of the situation; second, someone must be hit or knocked off something; and finally. 242 the actor who has been hit must effectively react to the blow.

Chaplin's films are filled with "ladder" lazzi. In Tjie Champion he lifts a dumbbell and smacks various people in the face with it. In His New Job. Chaplin replaces the weight with a board. He completes the traditional lazzo of accidentally knocking one actor down and then managing to hit him again when he turns to see what happened. He uses a ladder instead of a board in The Pawnshop, knocking two actors to the ground on numerous occasions as he carries the ladder back and forth around the shop. At one point, he captures fellow worker, John Rand, between the rungs of the ladder, and then he has a child hold the other end while Charlie boxes with his helpless rival. When a policeman approaches, Charlie's boxing moves turn into ballet, and he dances back into the shop. In addition, he must deal with a ladder when rescuing a woman from a burning house in The Fireman, and he uses a ladder lazzo with Eric Campbell in Behind the Scenes. Chaplin uses a more traditional "ladder lazzo" in The Tramp, when he and a workhand (Paddy McGuire, dressed as a traditional Patsy Brannigan type) are asked to unload sacks from the top of a barn. Nobody falls off the ladder during this scene, but the two men manage to throw sacks on top of each other. Chaplin uses a pitchfork to force McGuire up the ladder to work. When their boss comes to check their 243 progress, Chaplin and McGuire drop a sack on his head and knock him out.

The Marx Brothers do not use this lazzo as much as Chaplin, but they do incorporate it into their work. Harpo and Chico have trouble manipulating ladders in the dark in Animal Crackers, and they bring a ladder with them when they wallpaper Groucho and the evil vamp, Esther Muir, into the couch in A Day at the Races.

Lazzo of the Statue There are several Commedia variations on the statue, but they usually involve a character taking a frozen position and then beating other characters as they come by. Chaplin created an inspired version of this lazzo in The Circus f when he took the physical form of a machine in order to evade pursuers. When an enemy joined the scene, Chaplin added a hammer blow to the action. In The Adventurer. Charlie sticks a lamp shade on his head and then kicks Eric Campbell when he turns his back. In Shoulder Arms, Chaplin poses as a tree and beats German soldiers as they come by. In addition, Chaplin uses various versions of the statue in City Lights. The Tramp is first seen asleep on a statue, and as he climbs down, his body pauses in various vulgar positions. Later, he stands in front of a naked statue and cranes his neck for a better view. Naked female statues are seen frequently in Chaplin's 244 films. In Behind the Screen Charlie moves a male statue so it cannot gaze upon a naked female statue. The Marx Brothers also used this lazzo. In Animal Crackers, Harpo disrupts a party when the butler takes his coat and realizes he is not wearing clothes. Harpo acknowledges the frightened crowd by pulling a gun from his underwear and firing at everything in sight, including a statue of two lovers twisted in each others' arms. The figures in the statue respond by pulling out guns and shooting back at Harpo. In Monkey Business. Harpo poses as a camera and appears from underneath the camera equipment when a photographer attempts to take a picture. In both At the Circus and Horsefeathers. Harpo poses as a coat rack. Chaplin accidentally becomes a coat rack in Pay Day, when his arms get mixed in another man's coat.

Lazzo of the Dwarf Arlequino shrinks his body and walks on his knees. This lazzo is exploited to its fullest by Chaplin in The Idle Class, when he wanders drunk and without any pants into a hotel lobby. Chaplin hides himself inside a telephone booth until the lobby is nearly empty, and then he "shrinks" himself and waddles like a duck back to his room. The effect is spoiled when a hotel worker accidentally burns him in the buttocks with a blowtorch. Chaplin repeated the walk a few years later in The Circus, when auditioning to be a 245 clown. Told to "be funny," Chaplin lowered his torso and walked from his knees.

Harpo does not use this lazzo, but makes a variation on it whenever he walks in his stooped, half float, half run across the room. In addition, there is a laborious scene in At the Circus when Groucho and Chico go into a midget's house to interrogate him. By the time this film was made, both men were too old to bend and walk on their knees, but they did stoop, and they consequently kept hitting their heads on the ceiling.

Lazzo of Falling into Unconsciousness This lazzo may be related to Rudlin's description of the Pierrot, who often fell asleep when on duty. As discussed in an earlier chapter, Chaplin is often shown asleep, and he dreams numerous times. A good example of Chaplin's losing conciousness to the things around him occurs in The Bank, when Charlie dreams of being a hero. In most cases, however, the audience is allowed into Charlie's mind and does not see the Tramp while he is unconscious. There are several instances when Charlie is shown asleep, but they usually occur at night when he is supposed to be sleeping. In contrast, Harpo often loses conciousness in the middle of a scene. The stateroom scene in A Night at the Opera is a prime example; Harpo is oblivious to those things 246 occurring around him, but he is, nevertheless, able to assist Groucho and Chico in ordering breakfast. In addition, when a woman enters the stateroom and tries to change the sheets on the bed, Harpo wraps his arms around her body. Harpo falls asleep during the dinner speech in The Cocoanuts.

Lazzo of the Hands Behind the Back Gordon describes this lazzo as occurring when one character attempts to hide behind another. He "places his arms around him, making all the hand gestures for him" (12). Chaplin experimented with this lazzo in A Dog's Life. Attempting to regain money from robbers, Chaplin knocks one unconscious and acts as the robber's hands until he has a chance to knock the second man out. The two robbers were sitting at a table in a bar, and Charlie even finds time to sneak a sip of beer during the scene. The Marx Brothers do not use this particular lazzo, but they do use a variation of it in Horsefeathers. Harpo and Chico drive a professor out of the classroom and return to the room on piggyback, the professor's robes draped around them. Groucho, naturally, takes the professor's place and teaches class. 247 Lazzo of Catching the Flea There are two variations of this lazzo in Chaplin's films. In The Vagabond, Charlie catches a fly and flicks it at Edna Purviance's lover while they are dining. A more obvious use of this lazzo is in Calvero's Music Hall routine in Limelight, in which he coaxes the flea to do backflips, etc., as a part of the evening's entertainment. Biographer David Robinson writes that Chaplin had tried to use this scene three times before (301). He attempted to insert it into The Circus and The Great Dictator, and Brownlow and Gill, whose documentary. The Unknown Chaplin, examines out- takes from numerous films, write that a flea scene was part of an incomplete work called The Professor (1923). In it, Chaplin set aside his tramp costume and became Professor Bosco, the ringmaster of a flea circus.

Imitation of Animals Lazzi Gordon lists several variations of animal lazzi, including imitations of cats, dogs, asses, cranes, and others. Both Chaplin and Harpo participated in numerous versions of this lazzo. A full discussion of these lazzi is given in the section on Artaudian theory and animal imitation. 248 Comic Violence and Sadistic Behavior Gordon identifies a series of lazzi in which the actors participate in sadistic or violent behavior. It may be argued that these lazzi are more demonstrative of the Harlequin than the Pierrot. There are excellent demonstrations, however, of both Harpo and Chaplin participating in the lazzi of sadism.

The Lazzo of the Tooth Extractor Gordon describes a lazzo in which a dentist inflicts a great deal of pain on the patient. He dates the first performance in Rome in 1560. The Chaplin film Laughing Gas most obviously fulfills this comic category. In it, Charlie works as a dental assistant and uses giant dental tools to intimidate the patients. In Gordon's lazzo the dentist is the trickster, and the patient is the fool; in Chaplin's work, Charlie, the servant, is a trickster, and the dentist is a fool.

A variation of this lazzo occurs in the Marx Brothers' film Monkey Business when Chico and Harpo hide from pursuers in a barber shop. Their victim falls right into their hands, demanding that they give him a shave and then falling asleep in the barber's chair. Unlike Chaplin, Harpo and Chico do not threaten him with physical harm, but they do inflict a harm of sorts upon him by chopping away his enormous moustache. With each clip of the scissors Chico 249 insists that one side or the other is too long, and by the time they finish, the poor fellow's handlebars are gone. A similar twist on the lazzo occurs in a Chaplin film when the Jewish barber shaves a customer in pantomime in The Great Dictator. In this final case, there is no physical act of violence, although it is obvious that the customer is occasionally discomforted.

The Lazzo of the Bastonate Gordon identifies this lazzo as the tendancy of Commedia actors to rely on physical action when the show began to bog down. The lazzo would begin when a performer pulled out his bastonate and beat another performer, thus ending the show in a free-for-all. This action must be applied to the chase scenes that dominated the Keystone comedies and Mack Sennett's direction. Sennett, the director of the Keystone comedies, explained that his technique involved getting an idea and then "follow(ing) the natural sequence of events until it leads up to a chase, which is the essence of our comedy" (Robinson, 108). Chaplin disliked the chase, but he participated in this form of comedy until he gained creative control. There are also chases in some of Chaplin's mature films: the Barber is chased by soldiers in The Great Dictator, and Charlie the Tramp and the Gamin run away from authorities in Modern Times. These chases, however, are a part of a complex 250 Story, they are not designed for the sole purpose of creating laughs. By this point in his career, Chaplin's character was so well-defined that he did not have to rely on lazzi to help him create Charlie. The Marx Brothers films never progressed beyond the chase as a comedic device. Ironically, there is no real chase scene in their first two films, but by Monkey Business, a good portion of the film involved a chase. Love Happy ends with a rooftop chase involving all three brothers. There is a chase on roller skates at the end of The Big Store, and a gorilla chases Harpo onto the high wire at the end of At the Circus. In addition, the Marx Brothers' traditional "horseplay" may be related to this lazzo because the team depended upon physical punches, slaps, and kicks. Animal Crackers and The Cocoanuts are filled with such horseplay, and often the plot stops and the team concentrates on action-related gags.

Lazzo of the Chair One of the most often-repeated lazzi, the lazzo of the chair, involves various methods of pulling a chair out from under a person trying to sit down. Chaplin used the chair lazzo often, the most effective uses coming in The Circus (when an oblivious Charlie continually takes his bosses' chair when they sit down) and The Rounders (when a drunk Charlie and Fatty Arbuckle stagger into a restaurant and get 251 into a fight with patrons over who is the proper owner of the chair). The lazzo is repeated in Modern Times and The Rink. Chaplin has a great deal of difficulty opening a folding chair in A Day's Pleasure. The Marx Brothers also participate in horseplay involving chairs. In Animal Crackers, Harpo responds to the demand of "Three cheers for Captain Spaulding!" by bringing three chairs for Captain Spaulding. In addition, there are countless instances of the Marx Brothers sitting on top of or beneath other actors who are trying to take seats. In Monkey Business Harpo and Chico share the same chair, and, when they get up, they reveal a third character stuck in the bottom of the chair. Harpo tries to glue a man to a chair in Duck Soup. Finally, while preparing for a bridge game in Animal Crackers, Harpo shuts the legs on a table as quickly as the butler can open them. He finishes the contest by punching away the tabletop. This gag is similar to the chair routine in Chaplin's A Day's Pleasure.

Food Lazzi Various Uses of Food in Chaplin and the Marx Brothers As stated in a previous chapter, the basic difference between Chaplin's use of food lazzi and Harpo's continual eating is the sincerity of the hunger; Chaplin, the Pierrot, 252 is genuinely hungry, and Harpo, the child, eats anything he does not understand.

Frankfurters serve as the principal object in a host of Chaplin's lazzi: In The Circus, Chaplin eats a baby's hotdog as the child waves it in front of him; in Mabel's Busy Day he and Mabel fight over a tub of frankfurters; in A Dog's Life his dog. Scraps, eats a vender's frankfurters while Charlie eats an entire display of pastries; as a construction worker in Pay Day he drills a hole into a loaf of bread and hammers a frankfurter into it. Inedible food is also a theme; in Shoulder Arms he sports a gas mask and gas-bombs the Germans with limburger cheese; in The Count a woman serves limburger to him; he nearly breaks his teeth on Edna's horrible doughnuts in The Pawnshop; in Behind the Screen he wears a knight's helmet in order to escape the odor of another worker's onion. Harpo rarely eats real food. He is amazed when caterers give him a plate filled high with spaghetti in A Night at the Opera. More often, Harpo intentionally eats inedible objects; an inkwell, a telephone, buttons and flowers in The Cocoanuts; a thermometer in A Day at the Races; a cigar, a tie, and (while offscreen) a vest in A Night at the Opera; he eats a player's finger as a hotdog in Horsefeathers. In the later films, screenwriters tried to give Harpo something to do in eating scenes, but they failed to give him unique snacks. He cooks eggs in The Big Store, 253 and the three brothers eat like animals in Room Service. Their eating in the later films, however, has lost much of the spontaneity and inspiration of the earlier films. Food also serves as a weapon for both Chaplin and Harpo. The world's most notorious dictators, Hynkel and Napaloni, throw spaghetti at each other in The Great Dictator and demonstrate their power by tearing various dishes apart. Charlie tosses dough at John Rand in The Pawnshop, and stabs a turkey and smacks a caterer with it in The Count. Chaplin parodies the Keystone films with a piefight in Behind the Screen. The Marx Brothers win a war at the end of Duck Soup when they pelt first the enemy and then a singing Margaret Dumont with food. Harpo displays a zippered banana in Horsefeathers. and he uses banana peels to score a touchdown. Gerald Mast identifies food and eating as a theme in all of Chaplin's films. Characters eat constantly; watermelon, soup, spaghetti, doughnuts, cheese, barbecued ribs, corn on the cob, eggs, sandwiches, turkey, pastries, frankfurters, and a shoe are among the items on the Chaplin menu.

Lazzo of Hunger Gordon identifies this as a trick by Harlequin, who demonstrates his hunger to the other characters by eating his shoe. Chaplin obviously used this lazzo in The Gold 254 Eush, when a starving Charlie and Mack Swain boil a shoe and attempt to eat it, shoestrings and all. Harpo does not demonstrate hunger by eating inanimate objects. He eats them for the pure joy of eating them.

Lazzo of the Barber's Water Harlequin, disguised as a barber, mixes his soapy water with a glass of water brought by the customer. The exact lazzo occurs in The Bank, when Chaplin (as a janitor) lets the soapy water from his mop drip into his fellow custodian's soup. Both men gag when try to eat it. A variation occurs in Chaplin's City Lights, when Chaplin washes his face and hands next to a worker who is eating his lunch. The soap is mixed with the worker's sandwich, and he takes a healthy bite. Harpo and Chico use a variation of the lazzo in Monkey Business when they pose as barbers and cut off a man's moustache.

Stage Properties as Lazzi The specific listing of stage properties used by the Commedia is difficult to apply to Chaplin and Harpo; however, it has already been stated in a previous chapter that both men depended on stage properties in order to create lazzi. Chaplin's cane became the instrument of countless gags; it was particularly useful for tripping enemies. Harpo's collection of bicycle horns provided a 255 method of communication for him, and his coat was always loaded down with props that could be used at a moment's notice. There are, however, a few more props mentioned specifically by Gordon that deserve attention.

Lazzo of the B1 addf^T-

Gordon describes a pig's bladder being used to achieve a pratfall; when the Arlechino falls he is able to bounce back up. In The Rink, Chaplin stands over Henri Bergman (who is in drag) and gets into a shoving match with Eric Campbell. When Chaplin is shoved backward, he hits Bergman's false breasts and bounces back to his feet. Harpo uses a variation on this gag in Horsefeathers during the football scene when he ties a string to the football and uses it like a yo-yo.

Lazzo of the False Arm When Harpo sits down to play the harp in Monkey Business, the audience is shocked to notice he is wearing a fake hand.

Lazzo of the False Bottoms In this lazzo, a zanni hides various objects in his clothing in order to help a friend escape from jail. This lazzo was, of course, taken to an extreme by Harpo, who smuggled everything from a cup of coffee to a live dog in 256 his overcoat. Chaplin also keeps various stolen items tucked into his coat.

Related to this lazzo is Harpo's famous knife routine, which involved knives falling from the pockets of his overcoat as a policeman shakes his hand and pats him on the back. "You don't want to be a crook, do you?" the policeman asks. Harpo nods his head, as if to say, "yes." In his autobiography he recalls creating the act during On the Mezzanine: "When I first did the bit I had twenty pieces up my sleeves. I eventually worked up to three hundred knives, with a silver coffeepot tumbling out of my coat for a finish" (142). The routine is captured on film in Animal Crackers. Harpo played variations on it throughout his life, and he included it as part of the act during his Russian tour. Chaplin used the same routine in The Count. After discovering that his boss, Eric Campbell, plans to pose as a Count to win Miss Moneybags' hand, Charlie assumes the disguise first and declares Campbell is his servant. They eat an elegant dinner, and, when someone pats Charlie on the back, silverware falls out of his coat and onto the ground. Not missing a beat, Charlie looks back at Eric Campbell and scolds him for stealing the silverware. 257 Lazzo of the Zig-Zag Gordon describes the Zig-Zag as an expanding apparatus used to deliver messages. Chaplin uses a Zig-Zag to dump Paddy McGuire's smelly sox out of the window in The Tramp. Harpo uses a Zig-Zag to steal cans of food in Love Happy.

Lazzo of the Puppet Both men used a variation of this lazzo. Harpo becomes a puppet in Monkey Business when he joins a Punch and Judy show in order to evade a pursuer. When his enemy stands in front of the puppet show, Harpo forces him to join the scene by hitting him. Chaplin becomes a puppet when he joins the mechanical puppet scene in The Circus. Like Harpo, he ends up hitting an enemy as a part of the scene.

Lazzo of the New World This lazzo involves a zanni pretending to see something in an object and handing it to an enemy. Chaplin used it in Easy Street, when frantically trying to call the police for backup help. He hands Eric Campbell the phone receiver, and, as Campbell attempts to look inside, he tries to club Campbell on the head. The clubbing has no effect. Harpo mentions a game called "Peasy-Weasy" in his autobiography that involved a similar trick. 258 Sexual/Scatological Lazzi Lazzo of the Enema Gordon describes the lazzo of the enema as a series of lazzi in which the commedia characters administer shots, kicks, and enemas to the posterior. Sobel and Francis write that, in Chaplin films, "the backside came in for the most attention" of any part of the body, and it was constantly "knocked, kicked, pricked by a sword, scorched by a hot surface or patted approvingly" (113, 117). This attention to the posterior dimenished a bit in Chaplin's later films, but it is still evident at the end of his career. The most blatant example came in 1916 with the Mutual comedy. The Fireman. In it Chaplin, Eric Campbell, and Albert Austin exchange dozens of kicks and smacks in a two-reel film. Other films in the Mutual era contained fewer kicks, and as Chaplin more fully developed Charlie as a character, the films as a whole became less violent. The influence of the Harlequin was, nevertheless, still quite evident during the Mutual films, and although Charlie became less violent as he grew, he certainly did not renounce his former ways. The actual lazzo of the enema was performed in Easy Street, when Chaplin accidentally sat on a morphine addict's needle. There are also several occasions in which the buttocks became part of a human machine to be opened and closed. For instance, in The Rink, Charlie moves a man's posterior aside in order to walk by, and then he returns the posterior to 259 its original position as one would open and close a door. He repeated this gag in Modern Times and The Floorwalker. The Marx Brothers do not have a preoccupation with the buttocks, and they seldom use such gags in the same manner as Chaplin. There are, however, a couple of exceptions. First, Harpo and Chico stage the same fight throughout their careers: Chico swings wildly, and Harpo kicks him in the buttocks. This kick, however, is a part of a longer routine, and it does not stand alone for comic effect. Harpo also uses his buttocks and the rest of his body when he makes music. For instance, in Animal Crackers he plays a piano tune and then claps out a beat on his buttocks. Once again, this use of the buttocks is not as explicit as Chaplin's, but it is a similar lazzo.

Lazzo of the Chamber Pot This lazzo involves throwing a pot out of the window in order to hit someone in the street below. Charlie throws a cast-iron stove out the window to hit Eric Campbell in Easy Street. Paulette Goddard throws flower pots out the window to hit soldiers in The Great Dictator. Charlie sees people hurling garbage from their windows in The Kid, and, when discovering a baby on the street, he looks upward to see from which window it might have been thrown. The Marx Brothers hurl various pots, pans, etc., during the battle 260 scene in Duck Soup, when a pot is stuck on Groucho's head, Harpo draws the features of Groucho's face on the outside.

Lazzo of Hiding In this lazzo a jealous husband enters the scene, and a zanni must hide. Harlequin becomes a chair, and the befuddled husband sits on him. There are many instances of this lazzo in Chaplin's films. In The Count. Charlie hides inside a wicker basket avoid the butler. He hides in a trunk in The Pawnshop as well, this time avoiding his boss. In Mabel's Strange Predicament (a Keystone film, directed by Lehrman and Sennett) it is Mabel Normand who hides, scurrying under a bed when she goes into the wrong room. The Marx Brothers, however, were the masters of this lazzo, and directors often chose to split the screen into rooms as the brothers ducked in and out of doors. This technique was used in A Night at the Opera. Horsefeathers. and The Cocoanuts. In the former, a befuddled detective loses his mind as the brothers move furniture from room to room. In Horsefeathers. Groucho hides in Thelma Todd's closet to avoid her husband, and later all four brothers try to court her and attempt to hide from each other. The use of the split screen to see the four Marxes run in and out of rooms was established in The Cocoanuts. The Marxes use the actual hiding lazzo twice. In Animal Crackers, when Harpo is told to hide, he runs to the middle of the room and 261 Stands on his head. In A Night at the Opera, after shifting all the furniture from one room to another, they pose as other people for the detective's benefit. Harpo is an old woman knitting yarn.

Various Lazzi as a Waiter Chaplin appears as a waiter numerous times: Caught in a Cabaret, The Rink, Modern Times. Being a waiter creates opportunities to use food as a comedic prop. In The Rink. Chaplin serves someone a scrub brush and washcloth. He is a kitchen assistant on a ship in Shanghaied. Eric Campbell waits on Charlie and Edna Purviance in The Immigrant. The Marx Brothers do not often use this lazzo. Harpo and Chico become waiters for Groucho in A Day at the Races. but it is all part of an elaborate charade against Groucho.

Various Lazzi of the Bow Charlie bows to women and tips his hat to everyone, thus keeping his dignity, even in the face of embarrassment. In contrast, Groucho embarrasses other people by bowing to them, and he often gets into a contest to see who can bow the most times or dip the lowest. Related to the bow is Groucho's relationship with Esther Muir in A Day at the Races. When Esther says "Thank you," Groucho imitates her delivery and repeats "Thank you!" 262 Social Class Rebellion T.a77i Gordon describes the humor in these lazzi as being the result of a change in social class, where the master becomes a servant and the servant becomes a master. There are no specific lazzi to illustrate this category, but the general idea certainly may be discussed. Chaplin's appearance contrasts with his behavior. He carries a cane and tips a derby like a gentleman, but he lives on the street and scrounges for food. He often switches roles with the elite. In The Immigrant, Eric Campbell is forced to wait on him and Edna, even though Charlie does not have the money to pay the bill. In Modern Times, Charlie intentionally eats a meal he cannot afford so that he will be arrested and taken back to the "luxury" of prison. In Caught in a Cabaret, he is first established as a waiter/bouncer and then escapes his world for a few moments at a party. A similar theme occurs in The Rink. Charlie alternates from tramp to rich man in Citv Lights, and he strikes it rich and must adjust to wealth in The Gold Rush. The general line of criticism concerning the Marx Brothers emphasizes their anarchic rebellion against the upper class. Most of their films are based on the premise that the three brothers can destroy a societal institution. There is little switching of class, but Groucho is often among the socially elite, even though he openly participates 263 in tearing things down. Groucho is the President of his own country in Duck Soup; Harpo and Chico are first spies, and then later members of the Presidential cabinet. Harpo works in a host of jobs in Horsefeathers, ranging from dog catcher to student to football player. Groucho is a professor, but his behavior contradicts the customary behavior of a man in his position. He is a Captain in Animal Crackers, although his military orientation is never explained. All four Marx Brothers are stowaways in Monkey Business, and an elitist Groucho houses stowaways in A Night at the Opera. Harpo works as Groucho's chauffeur in The Big Store, and he has the mysterious title of "the Professor" in Animal Crackers.

Stage Life/Duality Lazzi Gordon describes these lazzi as times when the conventions of theater are broken. Included in these lazzi are the various times that Chaplin chose to take off his tramp costume and show the audience his face without the moustache. The Marx Brothers often dropped character and spoke directly to the camera. Uraneff argues that Commedia actors always kept their stage personalities.

Lazzo of the Script This lazzo involves letting the audience know that the story is not real and occasionally letting audiences in on the joke. Dan Kamin writes that Chaplin often accomplished 264 this lazzo by looking straight at the camera instead of at other characters. Kamin also mentions Chaplin's use of a hand to cover his smile during the Keystone, Mutual and Essanay films. This gesture should be contrasted with Harpo, who used a full-faced scowl, gape, sneer, or laugh. The Marx Brothers constantly broke through the traditional barrier of the camera in order to address directly the audience. In Animal Crackers, Groucho and the head servant. Chandler (Louis Sorin), mess up the script and begin making fun of their mistake. Adamson claims that this bit of business was not actually a mistake but was, indeed, planned. After his famous "elephant in my pajamas" monologue, Groucho intentionally mispronounces the word, "tusks," and makes scripted comment to the audience. In the same film, Groucho steps in and out of a love scene and makes "strange interludes" to the audience. Later, he looks at the camera and tells the audience that all the jokes cannot be good. He makes a similar comment in Horsefeathers. Groucho speaks directly to the audience in the narration of Love Happy. In all instances, it is Groucho, and not one of the other brothers who stands back from the action and makes comments about it. In reference to Uraneff's claim that the mask is never taken off, it must be noted that the sarcastic quips are consistent with Groucho's stage personality. 265 Lazzo of the Good Son/Bad Son This lazzo is related to the traditional comic theme of mistaken identity. Chaplin repeats this theme over ten times. In The Floorwalker, he runs into an embezzler who physically resembles him, and they exchange costumes in order to get away from their pursuers. In The Pilgrim, Chaplin has escaped prison and poses as a clergyman in order to evade police. A similar masquerade was used in The Adventurer, when Chaplin, once again an escaped convict, attempted to take refuge with a family. Chaplin goes so far as to change sexes in order to complete a masquerade in The Masquerader and A Woman. He takes the place of the dentist in Laughing Gas, and, in Police, even though he is actually trying to rob her, Edna saves Charlie from the police by claiming that he is her husband. In His Trysting Place. Charlie mixes his jacket with Mack Swain's, and his wife reads Swain's love letter, thus instigating a conflict based on mistaken intentions. In Modern Times. Charlie is mistaken for a labor union leader, and he must serve time in prison. This is one of many examples in Chaplin's work of the Christ-like attribute of paying for crimes he did not

commit. In addition to masquerading as a woman in earlier films, there are three instances when Charlie pretends to be another person in order to impress a woman. First, in The Rink, he is a simple but inept waiter. During his lunch 266 break, however, he becomes a champion at the skating rink, and he poses as Sir Cecil Seltzer in order to win Edna Purviance. The masquerade gets Charlie into trouble with the high brow crowd at the rink, and he escapes the wrath of antagonist Eric Campbell by hooking his cane to an automobile and skating out of sight. Charlie attempts an even more elaborate charade in The Count. This time, Charlie is a tailor-shop worker who wins Edna's favor by pretending to be a count. Comedy arises from Charlie's attempts to display his dignity. He must make a quick escape when the real count returns, but before the escape he loses control of the charade and does a poor job of acting like an aristocrat. Charlie places himself in danger and eventually goes to jail when he masquerades as a rich man in City Lights. This time, however, he is not discovered by the person he is trying to fool; he completes the masquerade and wins sight for the flower girl. She only learns his true identity when Charlie returns to her after a prison term. The audience does not know if Charlie is forced to run away again because the film ends before an action occurs. In addition, Chaplin played double characters in three films: The Idle Class, A Night at the Show, and The Great Dictator. In The Idle Class. Chaplin is both Charlie the Tramp and a rich man, whose alcoholism threatens his marriage with Edna Purviance. Charlie sees Edna and dreams 267 about being married to her, and he is given an opportunity to live that dream when he wanders into a masguerade ball. Mistaking Charlie for her husband, Edna comforts him and takes his side when her husband, trapped in a suit of armor, attacks Charlie. Chaplin plays a snobbish theatre patron and a drunk in A Night at the Show. This short film is a film adapatation of the Music Hall comedy. The Mumming Birds (discussed in McCabe's Mr. Laurel and Mr. Hardy). In The Great Dictator. Hynkel and the Barber are completely opposite personalities, but they are mistaken for each other anyway. Hynkel is arrested after a duck hunt, and the Barber, attempting to get out of the country, is hailed as Hynkel and asked to address the nation. Chaplin uses the Barber's speech to partially step outside of the character, and he delivers an impassioned plea for world

peace. The mistaken identity theme is dominant in the Marx Brothers as well. Groucho, a veterinarian, masquerades as a medical doctor in A Day at the Races, and he provides hypochondriac Margaret Dumont with fake diagnoses. Harpo, Chico, and Alan Jones pose as bearded Russian pilots in order to get into America in A Night at the Opera. Like Chaplin's barber, they are asked to make a speech but are discovered when Harpo drinks so much water that his beard falls off. The team evades customs authorities in Monkey 268 3usiness by claiming to be Maurice Chevalier. Harpo and Chico both dress as Groucho in Duck Soup, and they pose as football players at a speakeasy in Horsefeathers. In addition, the Marx Brothers actually use blackface to join a "negro" spiritual and evade authorities in A Dav at the Eaces. A similar scene was repeated in At the Circus.

Stupidity/Inappropriate Behavior Lazzo of Cowardice This lazzo involves bravery in practice but cowardice in the face of danger. Gordon describes zannis preparing for a sword fight and then backing out at the last minute. Neither Chaplin or Harpo backed out of fights. During the Keystone and Essanay years, Charlie literally "jumped" into fights, especially when he lost his temper. The early tramp character could be quite cruel and tempermental. In addition, the Mutual Charlie sometimes used his head to get out of jams. Despite being far smaller than his nemesis, Charlie uses the gas from a streetlight to knock out Eric Campbell in Easy Street. The closest Charlie comes to showing cowardice is in The Kid, when Jackie Coogan and a neighborhood bully are having a streetfight. The bully's father turns to Charlie and threatens to beat him if his child loses. Charlie steps in and tries to "fix" the fight. Charlie uses a variation of this lazzo in which he enters a situation boldly and then turns sweet when he 269 realizes there is a possibility of danger. The boxing scene in City Lights reveals a confident Charlie whose opponent will take a fall and split the money with him. When Charlie is suddenly thrust against a new, tougher opponent, he turns sweet and tries to "woo" him.

Harpo is also aggressively violent, but he is far less successful than Charlie as a fighter. He shows ferocity at Chico's request during a fight scene in Horsefeathers, but after ranting and raving, Harpo is knocked to the ground numerous times. He is vulnerable enough to be beaten in the later films. It is Chico, however, who shows cowardice. He is willing to send Harpo into the fight, but he does not participate. Harpo and Chaplin both take part in a sword fight. In A Night at the Opera, Harpo, who has appeared in the orchestra, uses a violin bow against the orchestra conductor's baton. When the orchestra suddenly plays "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" in the middle of a Verdi opera, Chico tosses Harpo a baseball, and Harpo hits it with the violin. Chaplin plays a dual role as socialite and reprobate in A Night at the Show. This fight includes the use of a fire hose intended to extinguish the fire used during a stage act. The hose goes out of control and sprays everyone in the audience. 270 Lazzo of Friendship Gordon describes this lazzo as a relationship between a zanni and the Scapino (or Brighella). Green and Swan identify Harpo and Chico as variations of these two Commedia characters. Throughout their films, Chico and Harpo are always acquaintances, and even when they are supposed to be working against each other, they throw down their weapons and embrace. In A Night at the Opera they meet, embrace, and exchange giant sausages, a food often used in the Commedia dell'Arte. In The Big Store, Harpo, Groucho's chauffeur, is arrested and rescued when Chico recognizes him. In Monkey Business, the three brothers are hired by various thugs as bodyguards but end up working together. Chico and Harpo are sometimes related, but whether friends or siblings, they always work together but steal from each other when it is convenient. The relationship is summed up in Go West, when Groucho asks Chico, "Don't you love your brother?" Chico gives him a logical answer: "No, but I'm used to him." Chaplin did not have a comic partner with whom to do such work. He occasionally befriends male characters, but in his world of poverty, the friendships rarely last.

Lazzo of the Insult Groucho is, of course, the king of the insult lazzo. He starts a war because of his insults in Duck Soup; in 271 fact, while preparing for a meeting designed to bring about a truce, Groucho gets so carried away with the potential insults of his foe that he slaps his foe and declares war as soon as the meeting starts. Groucho's sarcastic quips contrast to Harpo's childlike approach to life. While Groucho cannot open his mouth in most cases without relying on the lazzo of the insult, Harpo is able to insult his foes with silence. He does not, however, make insulting gestures or movements. Harpo's insults are a result of his antisocial behavior, and his childish face contradicts his actions. Chaplin must rely on gestures to complete the lazzo of the insult. He salutes his officer by thumbing his nose in Shanghaied. He makes an array of gestures toward an angry cameraman in Kid Auto Races. He sticks his tongue out when he gets angry, and, in the Keystone and Essanay films, turns violent when he loses his temper. In City Lights. Chaplin combines his body with a statue to form an obscene gesture as he climbs down from his napping place. By putting the statue's widespread hand to his face, Charlie thumbs his nose at respectable society. The thumb to the nose is repeated often in Chaplin's films.

Lazzo of Touching and Fright Gordon's description of the lazzo involves two characters, each of whom thinks the other is a ghost. They 272 go through a ritual of touching and tugging each other to make sure of reality, it may be argued that this lazzo served as the inspiration for the mirror scenes in The Floorwalker and Duck Soup.

Lazzo of Sewing and Sticking This lazzo may be related to Harpo's continual misunderstanding of the things Chico asks him to do. Gordon describes a character taking the messages of "sew yourself to me!" and of "attach yourself to me" too literally (45). The Marx Brothers films are filled with similar gags: Harpo produces a live seal to complete a contract in Duck Soup, and, when asked for a flash, he pulls a flit, a flush, and a fish from his coat in Animal Crackers. A similar routine occurs when they break into the antagonist's room in At the Circus. This gag was much more difficult for Chaplin to complete; he did not have the luxury of a speaking partner to misinterpret. He does, however, often misunderstand instructions. In The Circus. Charlie blows his audition by misunderstanding the audition material. Charlie sometimes thinks he is being addressed when he is not. For instance, in The Kid. Charlie says "Ah" when the doctor tells Jackie Coogan to do so. 273 Lazzo of Putting On and Taking Off Their Hats Chico and Harpo steal Edgar Kennedy's hat and replace it with their own hats in Duck Soup. Chaplin uses his hat as a tool for character: he tips it in a dignified manner when strangers approach; he flips it and rolls it down his arm to impress ladies; in The Rink Charlie choreographs an entire "show" for a woman by making it move up and down on his head as he presses it against the wall.

Lazzo of Delight Gordon describes the lazzo of delight as reacting to good news in a silly manner by kissing everyone in sight. This lazzo was one of Harpo's favorite. He jumps back and forth across the deck of a ship, kissing everyone in Monkey Business. In Animal Crackers, Harpo rubs his hands together in wicked anticipation of accepting a bribe.

The Transformation Lazzi Lazzo of Nightfall Gordon describes this scene in detail, telling how the commedia characters grope about the stage and fall in total darkness. This lazzo was used twice by the Marx Brothers. First, when Chico and Harpo steal a painting in Animal Crackers. the power fails, and they are left in the dark standing on a ladder. Groucho brings Margaret Dumont into the dark room and, when they sit on the couch, Groucho finds 274 a fish that Harpo pulled from his overcoat earlier in the scene. In Duck Soup, Chico and Harpo sneak around in the dark when they attempt to break into Groucho's home.

Lazzo of the Nymph This lazzo has been identified as the "Transvestite Lazzo" in another chapter. An excellent example of Harpo's using this lazzo without actually dressing up comes in A Night at the Opera. Having finished devouring everything in sight, Harpo applies condiments as makeup; he uses flour as base and ketchup as lipstick and then poses for everyone at the table.

Lazzo of Fear (Terror) Chaplin shows fear by becoming especially sweet to the person or persons who may do him harm. He searches for an opportunity to turn the situation around. Charlie is obviously fearful of Eric Campbell in Easy Street, but he searches for an opportunity to overcome the giant. As Campbell shows off his strength by bending a lightpost, Chaplin leaps into action. Chaplin shows extreme fear when he is locked in a lion cage in At the Circus and when he is chased by a bear in The Gold Rush. The audience sees fear sweep over Charlie's face as he watches a masseur in The Cure. In each of these situations, Charlie takes action when he can do so. In contrast, the Marx Brothers rarely 275 show fear at all. The childlike Harpo fears nothing—he eats anything he does not understand. Chaplin must cope with things that could hurt him, but Harpo eats or destroys them and therefore gains control.

Lazzo of Despair or Suicide The Marx Brothers do not threaten suicide, but Chaplin does. There is a contemplation of suicide in a Keystone film called Recreation. The alternative ending of The Vagabond is said to involve suicide, and the actual ending involves a moment of great despair as Charlie walks off into the countryside. The suicide scene in Sunnyside is unique because it comes in the form of a dream; Chaplin jumps in front of a car and awakens with a kick in the backside just before it hits him. * In Shanghaied. Charlie threatens suicide and plunges into the ocean. In City Lights, Charlie rescues a man from drowning himself and is almost drowned in the process. The man turns out to be a millionaire, but he only recognizes Charlie when he is drunk. This trait may be identified with the transformation lazzo as a theme; Gordon defines the lazzo as a "sudden and complete change in personality" (47). Charlie is affected by the millionare's sudden changes as the man alternates between treating Charlie like a friend and a stranger. * Constance Kuriyama suggests that the suicide theme in .qunnvside was symbolic of what was happening in Chaplin's personal life at the time. 276 Trickery Lazzi Lazzo of Bamboozling This lazzo is representative of the general relationship between Groucho and Chico. Especially telling of this relationship are the tootsie-frootsie ice cream scene in A Dav at the Races, the swindling scene at the beginning of Go West, and the password scene in Horsefeathers. Chaplin is bamboozled occasionally, with the most significant example occurring in The Pawnshop. An elderly gentleman enters the shop and begs Charlie to buy his wedding ring so he will have money to survive. When Chaplin relents, the man adds Charlie's money to the enormous wad of money he was already carrying. Charlie does his own bamboozling as well. He poses as a Count in The Count, and he cons his hostess into thinking he is a yachtsman named "Captain Slick" in The Adventurer.

Lazzo of the Lunatic In this lazzo, a character pretends to be mad in order to beat the other characters around him. There is a variation of this lazzo in Chaplin's films; Charlie becomes a madman when he accidentally takes drugs. In Easy Street, Chaplin falls on a morphine addict's needle, and, with the aid of the drug, becomes superhuman. It is the drug, and not Charlie's own strength, that allows him finally to overcome Eric Campbell and force Campbell to become good. A 277 similar action occurs in Modern Times, when Chaplin, a prisoner, accidentally salts his food with cocaine. Once again, Chaplin gains superhuman strength, and he aids the prison guards in putting down a full-scale prison rebellion. In both instances, the drug made Charlie into a madman, and, as in the dream sequences, Charlie was able to accomplish feats of near-superhuman strength to win the day. He actually goes mad during the factory scene in Modern Times, becoming a puppet-like machine and tightening bolts, buttons, and noses on everything around him.

Lazzo of the Cardgame Gordon describes this lazzo as when a thief teaches zanni a new card game and continually changes the rules. This lazzo may be applied to several moments in the Marx Brothers' films. During the "tootsie frootsie" bamboozling scene, Chico continually adds conditions to Groucho's getting tips on a horserace; first the name is in code, then the decoder is in code, etc. Chico and Harpo change the rules of bridge in a card game with Margaret Dumont in Animal Crackers. Harpo leads off each hand with an ace of spades. In Monkey Business, Harpo cuts a deck of cards with a meat cleaver. Chaplin also uses this lazzo. In The jTTimigrant, Charlie manages a complex, two-handed shuffle in which not a single card is changed. 278 Lazzo of the Flour This lazzo involves blowing flour in the face of a pursuer to get away. Chaplin uses it often. He throws a bowl of flower on a cop and an orphanage official in The Kid. He sneezes talcum powder into Merna Kennedy's face in The Circus. Charlie and Fatty Arbuckle toss makeup at each other in The Masguerader. The Marx Brothers also use this lazzo. In A Day at the Races, Harpo is told to "Scram! Blow!" He obliges by blowing into a container of face powder. It is also repeated in At the Circus.

Word Play Lazzi Gordon lists wordplay lazzi as being indigenous to Southern Italy, and he lists puns, malapropisms, story­ telling, and foreign accents as examples of the word play lazzi. The lazzi Gordon lists under this category are not appropriate for application to this study; however, the various subsections certainly are. The Marx Brothers specialized in word play lazzi, but there is a limited number of examples from Chaplin because of his use of silent film. This category, therefore, is dominated by the Marx Brothers. Unlike Chaplin, Harpo participates in word play lazzi because he is able to react to verbal cues from Chico. 279

Puns

Both Chico and Groucho make constant use of puns, and their numerous exchanges of puns are often so forced that they could only work in the context of a Marx Brothers' movie. For instance, in Duck Soup, Groucho mentions taxes, and Chico replies, "Hey, I gotta Uncle who lives in Taxes." When told that his reference is to dollars and taxes, Chico states the obvious; his "Uncle lives in Dollars, Taxes." Other infamous puns include the Sanity Clause in the contract scene in A Night at the Opera (Chico cannot be fooled; he knows there is no such thing as Sanity Claus!), and the viaduct on the property in The Cocoanuts (Chico demands, "Why a duck?"). Groucho's monologues are filled with puns: "One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got in my pajamas I don't know. . . Then we bagged three tigers. We bagged them to leave, but they wouldn't do it" (Animal Crackers). Essayist Thomas Jordan claims that the Marx Brothers have such unlimited appeal because their humor is "egually strong, both visually and verbally" (90). The use of puns, therefore, did not limit itself to the confines of spoken language, and Harpo was able to pun along with Chico by producing those things Chico demanded. In addition, the humor did not rely strictly on the use of puns, but the presence of Harpo allowed them to concentrate on a visual 280 humor that did not exist in many other comedy teams of the time.

Chaplin's limited use of puns may be placed into two categories: puns on the title cards during his silent shorts, and puns in the talking films. The title cards are not always genuine, because Essanay studios and Charlie's brother, Sydney, often added titles after the film's completion. An outstanding example of puns in the title cards comes in the Essanay comedy, A Woman, in which the cards convey vaudeville-esque conversation between characters. The cards were added to the prints by Sydney Chaplin. They are not a part of Chaplin's original technique and cannot be counted as demonstrations of the Commedia dell'Arte in his films. Chaplin did not use puns as frequently as the Marx Brothers when he turned to talking film. There are numerous puns in the names of characters and places in The Great Dictator, but these puns are part of the satire; Chaplin plays Adenoid Hynkel, the dictator of Tomania, instead of Adolph Hitler; Jack Oakie is Napaloni, dictator of Bacteria, instead of Mussolini. These puns, however, are not meant as a comic device in themselves; they are part of an overall satire. 281

Malapropisms The word "malapropism" took its name from the character of Mrs. Malaprop in Richard Brinsley Sheridan's The Rivals (1775), and it refers to the humorous misapplication of a word. The malaprop was a natural tool for Chico, whose humor was based on his misunderstanding of basic English. Chico supplied verbal puns, and Harpo paralleled him with visual backup. For instance, the theft scene in Animal Crackers allows Harpo an opportunity to misunderstand the word "flash" (meaning "flashlight"). His best sparring partner is Groucho, who provides him with puns that Chico, of course, can misinterpret. A variation on this routine was replayed through most of the team's films. Harpo communicated back to Chico using a combination mime/whistle Chico readily misinterpreted. The culmination of these scenes comes in Love Happy, when Harpo mimes and whistles over the phone, and Chico "reads his mind."

Story Telling Both Groucho and Chico tell stories throughout the Marx Brothers films. When asked to report on their spying duties in Duck Soup. Chico tells a grand story about following Groucho to a baseball game. In A Night at the Opera, he disguises himself as an aviator and tells a mystified New York City how he and his brothers flew across the ocean to 282

America, only to run out of gas just before they reached shore. They had to turn around and go home. Groucho's stories are not quite as elaborate because he cannot stay on one line of thought. His monologues are filled with the same nonsensical comments as Chico's, but Groucho bounces from subject to subject, often commenting on the person who is hearing the story rather than the story that is being told. Harpo tells stories in pantomime form, usually to accompany Chico's puns and malapropisms. Chaplin also accomplishes story telling through pantomime. In The Pilgrim, Charlie, an escaped convict, poses as a preacher and is asked to give a sermon. Using pantomime and title cards, Charlie tells the story of David and Goliath, demonstrating the size, strength, and ferocity of the giant. When he is fired from his job in The Pawnshop, Charlie tells the story of his starving family at home. Although title cards are used in the David and Goliath scene, there is no need for them. Chaplin communicates the story using only his body, but he occasionally makes ambiguous gestures that may be considered visual puns. For instance, in The Gold Rush. Charlie holds up five fingers in a provocative position to tell the owner of a restaurant what he will charge to shovel his walk. 283

Foreign Accents Chico provides the best example of the use of a fake accent. It was commented upon in Animal Crackers; when Chico and Harpo discover the butler of the estate is really Abbie the Fishman from their past, they exchange a series of insults, and Abbie demands, "When did you become Italian?" In the original Marx Brothers' act, Groucho used a German accent, and Harpo was Irish. Chaplin, of course, was unable to use an accent until he made talkies. Hynkel has a definite accent, and he rants in gibberish during his impassioned speeches. Monsieur Verdoux has a French accent.

Illogical Lazzi Gordon defines this category as a misuse of logic in such a manner that the laws of nature are denied. Harpo Marx is the living example of this series of lazzi, and his most famous gags deal with the suspension of logic. In ^ Night in Casablanca, when a policeman sees Harpo leaning against a wall, he demands, "What do you think you're doing, holding up that building?" He is, and Harpo demonstrates it by walking away from the wall and letting it collapse. In frnimal Crackers he steals a birthmark. In Horsefeathers he burns a candle at both ends. His eating inedible objects defies logic; as does his ability to milk a glove (A Night 284 at the Opera), to play slot machine with a telephone (Horsefeathers), and to steal any object that is not nailed to the floor.

Other Commedia Techniques In addition to the lazzi identified by Gordon, there are a few other categories of the Commedia that must be considered. Meyerhold, who used the Commedia as a justification, believed in the right "of the director and the actor to interpret the written text as they saw fit" (Braun, 1986, 123). As a part of that interpretation, the use of musical score became important in Meyerholdian productions "the actor's freedom is only relative because he is subject to the discipline of the musical score" and thus must possess "an acute sense of rhythm, plus great agility and self-control" (Braun, 1969, 144). Meyerhold used the music to underscore the tone of the production.

Music Music was an integral part of both Chaplin's and Marx Brothers' films, but it was used in opposite ways. The Marx Brothers started in vaudeville and moved to Broadway, and most of their films include grand musical numbers that appear choreographed for the stage. Groucho makes his appearance as Captain Spaulding in Animal Crackers during a grand number celebrating his conquests in Africa. He 285 creates a dance by flinging his limbs and changing directions like an acrobat. The dance appears to have been lifted straight from the stage. A similar dance occurs in Horsefeathers, even though there was never a play version of the film. He leads the cast of At the Circus in multiple choruses of "Lydia the Tattooed Lady," and Groucho and Harpo swing like acrobats from the light fixtures. Like other musicals of the time, the later Marx Brothers' films contained love stories around which the brothers could clown. By the time they reached MGM, inamorata like Alan Jones and Kitty Carlisle sang love songs to each other while the Marxes looked on, admiring the music. While Groucho led dance numbers, Harpo and Chico displayed specialty numbers and played harp and piano solos. The least constrained of these scenes is in Animal Crackers, when Chico gets lost in the music and repeats the same musical stanza for what seems like a hundred times. Groucho insults the number, asking Chico to play "Somewhere My Love Lies Sleeping" with a Male Chorus. After a mock fight, Harpo somehow manages to find a harp, and then he goes about displaying his own musical specialty. Groucho hated these musical interludes, and his complaints are well documented. In addition to Groucho's singing and the specialty numbers, the Marx Brothers also participated in full song and dance routines. The Marx Brothers perform a mock minstrel show in both At the Circus and A Day at the Races. 286 In the latter, Harpo plays the flute in the street, and a chorus of black singers claims that he is Gabriel. A grand musical number occurs in Duck Soup when Groucho's country, Freedonia, declares war. Once again, the Marx Brothers perform a minstrel show, grabbing banjos and singing "They got guns! We got guns! All God's chil'un got guns!" In the same number the entire cast kneels and wails a chorus from a Baptist tent revival.

If the music in the Marx Brothers' films is used for comic effect, the music in Chaplin's films actually heightens the intensity of the drama. Unlike the Marx Brothers, Chaplin composed his own music in his later films, and he heightened the sense of pathos with music that complemented the action on the screen. His first musical score was in City Lights (1931), although he prepared scores for the reissues of The Gold Rush (1942) and The Circus (1970), which included the song, "Swing Little Girl," composed and performed by Chaplin. In Modern Times, Chaplin provided his most famous song, "Smile." In contrast to the Marx Brothers's use of music, the score in Chaplin's works played underneath the action or accompanied the pantomime. City Lights becomes balletic at moments, especially in the boxing sequence where Charlie, the referee, and Charlie's boxing opponent dance back and forth in order to evade each other. Especially effective is 287 the music in the final sequence of City Lights, in which Chaplin and the flower girl have a moment of discovery.

Summary This chapter has made a detailed examination of the Commedia dell'Arte lazzi. Meyerhold's influence in going against mainstream Naturalism and his re-introduction of archetypal Commedia characters and use of masks and lazzi has been discussed. Mel Gordon's book, Lazzi. served as a guide in organizing the various lazzi, and examples of those lazzi in the films of Charlie Chaplin and Harpo Marx have been demonstrated. In addition, Meyerhold's use of music has been discussed in the context of Chaplin and Harpo. Through this examination, it is obvious that both Chaplin and Harpo used elements of the Commedia dell'Arte in building their characters, and they incorporated a large number of lazzi into their work. 288 CHAPTER IX CONCLUSION This study demonstrates that Harpo Marx and Charlie Chaplin are manifestations of the Pierrot. By doing so, it links the Commedia dell'Arte, a major historical style that may be identified as a theatre of the people, with early film comedy. This link leads to the conclusion that the Commedia dell'Arte has been, in the words of Uraneff, resurrected on film; therefore, film comedians like Harpo and Charlie Chaplin are the link between the live theatre and the "common man." The implications of Harpo as Harlequin and Chaplin as Pierrot are far-reaching. First, since both men are still highly popular decades after the completion of their body of work, it must be concluded that their styles have a universality that communicates beyond time. Like the masks of the original Commedia characters, the masks of Harpo and Charlie the Tramp are easily recognizable, and audiences are able to identify the characters simply by viewing the mask. This ability is related to the original masks of the Commedia dell'Arte. Second, having chosen their respective masks, Chaplin and Harpo used opposite approaches in appealing to the masses. While Harpo and his brothers were interested in making people laugh, Chaplin used the comedy as a tool in an artistic whole, creating both comedy and pathos at the same time. Chaplin's films with the Keystone 289 studio used a Harlequinesque character akin to Harpo, but once Chaplin gained full control over his films, Charlie the Tramp evolved into a more mature character. Similarly, the Commedia dell'Arte Pierrot began life as a supporting character, but over time, he became more and more representative of the common man. Chaplin did not control the Keystone studio, and he was subject to the whims of director Mack Sennett. The comedic style of the time was, of course, slapstick; although Chaplin conceived of a mixture of comedy and tragedy, Sennett and his employees at Keystone concentrated on broad physical humor designed for cheap laughs. One must conclude that the Keystone years were good for Chaplin; by workshopping his talents in such an environment, Chaplin learned the standard of Hollywood. The Keystone years afforded him an opportunity to work with others in creating broad humor for humor's sake. This humor, which may be related to the Commedia lazzi, was incorporated into Chaplin's later work as a tragicomic artist. The Marx Brothers were never interested in anything more than laughs, and although they had the luxury of using sound in their early works, the pre-Thalberg productions have a similar composition to Chaplin's work at Keystone. The Marx Brothers' humor, however, was not based entirely on visual gags, and it may be argued that the three brothers and their "stock company" of actors created a Commedia 290 dell'Arte team in which Groucho appealed to the intellectuals, Chico supplied the immigrant humor, and Harpo appealed to the child in everyone, thus becoming the representative of the common man. The Marx Brothers brought an element of vaudeville to their act, and much of their work involves vaudeville routines on film. Like the Harlequin, Harpo worked as part of a team, and he was dependent on the other team members for his effectiveness as a comedian. In the later part of his career, Harpo made guest appearances on television shows, but for the most part, he worked in a team situation on television as well. By the end of his career, Harpo's chosen mask was so easily identified that he did not need to do anything more than make an appearance to trigger laughter. He kept the Commedia mask his entire life, refusing to utter a word on film and never breaking the illusion created by the mask and the costume. He achieved a Harlequin's personality, and like the traditional actor in a Commedia team, he kept that personality for a lifetime. In contrast, Chaplin followed the historical progression of the Pierrot. He experimented, first finding a mask, occasionally discarding it, and forever adding to the legend behind it. Chaplin developed the physical traits of the Pierrot and then incorporated the character's dramatic traits into his films. Although he kept with him a team of actors such as Henry Bergman and Albert Austin, 291 these actors did not establish individual masks. Bergman may be seen as an old woman or as a circus clown. Austin may have a tiny moustache or a heavy beard. The actors who worked with Chaplin served as a supporting cast, stepping in and out of roles and masks according to Chaplin's commands. Harpo's supporting cast kept masks as identifiable as Harpo's; whether Groucho played a crazy doctor or the President of Freedonia, his moustache and eyebrows served as immediate identification. The traditional Harlequin and Pierrot followed the same historical patterns as Harpo and Chaplin. The Harlequin remained a part of a team; without a Pantalone or a Dottorie to foil, the Harlequin has nothing to do. The Pierrot, however, broke away from the Commedia dell'Arte, establishing his personality on his own and prospering long after the rest of Commedia went into hibernation. This historical pattern leads to several conclusions: First, since the Pierrot was a mixture of comedy and tragedy and the Harlequin was simply a comedic character, the Pierrot is a natural product of the evolution of drama from comedy to tragedy to twentieth century tragicomedy. Charlie Chaplin is the link between comedy for the masses and tragicomedy for the common man. His chosen medium, film, granted him an ability to reach all men at all times; as long as the films still exist, Chaplin performs for audiences as though he were alive. The emergence of the Commedia masks and lazzi 292 on film create an eternal link between actors and audience, such as the one Meyerhold sought to describe. This link occurs because the film captured a moment of time; it cannot be erased, but it can be replayed to a new audience at a new moment. Chaplin, therefore, is a link between theory and practice; he realizes Meyerholdian Biomechanical theory; he embodies Artaudian Theatre of Cruelty taken off the page and set in a new space; he is Commedia dell'Arte resurrected and performed for the masses. Chaplin is a mixture of all the theatrical forms before him because he is, both intentionally and unintentionally, the new incarnation of the Pierrot. He triggered imitators of both his character and his style; although the mask of Charlie the Tramp has been laid aside, it could be reborn once again in a new mask and for a new purpose.

Second, Harpo and his brothers are a filmed link to vaudeville, which may, in turn, be traced to the original Commedia dell'Arte. The Marx Brothers are not related to the Pierrot of the nineteenth century; theirs is a comedy of teams, made up of various situations and lazzi. They incorporate various types of comedy, but their relationship with modern theatrical theory is different than Chaplin's. They use the Meyerholdian mask and lazzi, but apart from their use of Commedia, there is no other link to Biomechanics. Although Artaud talked about the Surreal aspects of their work, there is no other link between the 293 Marx Brothers and the Theatre of Cruelty. Instead, they may be traced directly to the original Commedia dell'Arte, and their style of humor and use of both verbal and visual jokes is related to the Vaudevillian stage. The Marx Brothers are an instrumental part of the transition of stage comedy to film. There is no tragicomic substance in their work, but there is no need for such a thing. The Marx Brothers are, instead, a link to the lazzi and masks of the Commedia. This study is a first step in examining the link between historical stage drama and twentieth century film. Future studies should focus on the shift of attention of the masses from stage comedy to film tragicomedy. A shift of Marx Brothers' criticism away from Surrealism and Artaud and toward Commedia and vaudeville is necessary. A detailed examination of Harpo from a dancer's perspective would be quite helpful in better understanding how he created the character. This study has focused on lazzi and historical influence from the Commedia, and it has laid the groundwork for a more intense study of Harpo's physical traits from the point of view of a dancer. Chaplin scholars should focus on Chaplin's influence on modern film. If Chaplin is actually a creator of cinematic tragicomedy, then more focus must be made on his work as a tragicomedian. This study has identified the link between Chaplin's direction and Meyerholdian Biomechanics; an intense study of the two directors is essential to future scholarship. In addition. 294 Chaplin scholars should focus on his actual product rather than continuing ethereal vein that dominated such scholarship before the 1980s. It is important that Chaplin as a theorist be studied in the context of twentieth century theory. This dissertation serves as a starting point for further research. Film scholars in the next half century must focus their attention on the application of theatrical theory to film. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Adamson, Joe. Groucho. Harpo. Chico—and Sometimes Zeppo: A History of the Marx Brothers and a Satire on the Rest of the World. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1973.

Altman, Robert, Jon Carroll, and Michael Goodwin. "Groucho Marx: Portrait of the Artist as an Old Man." Take One. September/October 1970, pp. 10-16. Anobile, Richard. Why a Duck?: Visual and Verbal Gems From the Marx Brothers Movies. New York; Darien House, 1971.

Arce, Hector. Groucho. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1979.

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295 296 Braun, Edward. Meyerhold on Theater. New York; Hill and Wang, 1969. Braun, Edward. The Theater of Meyerhold: Revolution on the Modern Stage. London; Methuen, 1986. Brockett, Oscar. History of the Theatre. Fifth Edition. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1987. Brownlow, Kevin. The Parade's Gone By. . .. New York; Ballantine Books, 1968. Brownlow, Kevin and David Gill. The Unknown Chaplin. HBO Video/Thames Video Collection, 1983. Carr, Harry. "Chaplin vs. Lloyd, A Comparison." Motion Picture Magazine. November 1922, p. 55+. Carrouges, Michael. Andre Breton and the Basic Concepts of Surrealism. Translated Maura Prendergast. Alabama; University of Alabama Press, 1974. Chandler, Charlotte. "Groucho Marx: A Candid Conversation with Minna Marx's Third—and Funniest—Son." Playboy. March 1974. Chandler, Charlotte. Hello. I Must Be Going. New York: Doubleday, 1978. Chaplin, Charles. Charlie Chaplin's Own Story. Ed. Harry Geduld. Bloomington; Indiana University Press, 1985. Chaplin, Charles. "How I Made My Success." The Theatre. September 1915, 121, 142. Chaplin, Charles. "In Defense of Myself." Collier's National Weekly, November 1922, pp. 17-18. \X Chaplin, Charles. My Autobiography. New York; Penguin Books, 1992. Chaplin, Charles. "Pantomime and Comedy." New York Times, January 24, 1931, sec. 8, p. 6. Chaplin, Charles. "What People Laugh At." in MacCann, Richard Dyer. The Silent Comedians. Iowa City; Scarecrow Press, 1993. Chaplin, Charles Jr. My Father. Charlie Chaplin. New York; Random House, 1960. 297 Clausius, Claudia. The Gentleman is a Tramp. New York: Peter Lang, 1989.

Costich, Julia. Antonin Artaud. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1978.

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Dick, Kay. Pierrot. London: Hutchinson and Company, 1960. Dixon, Peter. "First Appearance in Europe!" The Freedonia Gazette, Winter 1981 pp. 9-12. Donnelly, William. "A Theory of the Comedy of the Marx Brothers." Velvet Light Trap. Winter, 1971-1972. Durgnat, Raymond. The Crazy Mirror: Hollywood Comedy and the American Image. New York; Horizon Press, 1970. Eaton, Katherine Bliss. The Theatre of Meyerhold and Brecht. Westport, CT; Greenwood Press, 1985. Esslin, Martin. Artaud. London: John Calder Press, 1976. Esslin, Martin. The Theatre of the Absurd. New York; Doubleday, 1961. Everson, William K. American Silent Film. New York; Oxford University Press, 1978. Eyles, Allen. The Marx Brothers; Their World of Comedy. New York; A. S. Barnes and Co., 1966. Fadiman, Clifton. "A New High in Low Comedy." Stage, January 1936. Flom, Arden Lee. Vsevolod Meyerhold; His Theory of Biomechanics. Thesis, University of Oregon Dept. of Speech, 1967. Gehring, Wes. Charlie Chaplin; A Bio-Bibliograohv. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1983. Gehring, Wes. The Marx Brothers; A Bio-Bibliography. Westport, CT; Greenwood Press, 1987. 298 George, David and Christopher Gossip, Eds. Studies in the Commedia Dell'Arte. Cardiff: The University of Wales Press, 1993.

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Levant, Oscar. A Smattering of Ignorance. New York: Garden City Publishing Company, 1942. Lyons, Timothy. "An Introduction to the Literature on Chaplin." Journal of the University Film Association, Winter 1979, pp. 3-10. Lyons, Timothy. "The Idea in The Gold Rush: A Study of Chaplin's Use of the Comic Technique of Pathos-Humor." in Ed. Donald McCaffrey, Focus on Chaplin. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey; Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1971. v^ MacCann, Richard Dyer. The Silent Comedians. Metuchen, New Jersey; The Scarecrow Press, 1993. >|X Madden, David. Harlequin's Stick—Chaplin's Cane. Bowling ^ Green, NC; Bowling Green University Popular Press, 1975. Marx, Arthur. Life With Groucho. New York; Simon and Schuster, 1954. Marx, Arthur. Son of Groucho. New York; David McKay Company, 1972. Marx, Groucho. Groucho and Me. New York: Bernard Geis Associates, 1959. Marx, Groucho. "Vaudeville Talk." The New Yorker, June 20, 1925, p. 14. Marx, Groucho, and Richard Anobile. The Marx Brothers Scrapbook. New York: Darien House, 1973. Marx, Groucho and Hector Arce. The Secret Word is Groucho. New York; G. P. Putnam's Sons, 1976. Marx, Harpo, with Rowland Barber. Harpo Speaks! New York; Limelight Editions, 1964. Marx, Maxine. Growing Up with Chico. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey; Prentice Hall 1980. 300 ./Mast, Gerald. The Comic Mind: Comedy and the Movies. ^ Chicago; University of Chicago Press, 1973. Mast, Gerald. A Short History of the Movies. Indianapolis; Bobbs-Merrill, 1981.

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303 304 A Chronology of Events

Chaplin at Keystone

Making a Living 1914 Kid Auto Races at Venice 1914 Mabel's Strange Predicament 1914 Between Showers 1914 Tango Tangles 1914 His Favorite Passtime 1914 Cruel, Cruel Love 1914 The Star Boarder 1914 Mabel at the Wheel 1914 Twenty Minutes of Love 1914 Caught in a Cabaret 1914 Caught in the Rain 1914 A Busy Day 1914 The Fatal Mallet 1914 Her Friend the Bandit 1914 The Knockout 1914 Mabel's Busy Day 1914 Mabel's Married Life 1914 Laughing Gas 1914 The Property Man 1914 The Face on the Barroom Floor 1914 Recreation 1914 The Masquerader 1914 His New Profession 1914 The Rounders 1914 The New Janitor 1914 Those Love Pangs 1914 Dough and Dynamite 1914 Gentlemen of Nerve 1914 His Musical Career 1914 1914 His Trysting Place 1914 Tillie's Punctured Romance 1914 Getting Acquainted 1914 His Prehistoric Past 305

Chaplin at Essanay His New Job 1915 A Night Out 1915 The Champion 1915 In the Park 1915 A Jitney Elopement 1915 The Tramp (pathos) 1915 By the Sea 1915 Work 1915 A Woman 1915 The Bank (pathos) 1915 Shanghaied (suicide) 1915 A Night at the Show (Mumming Birds) 1915 Charlie Chaplin's Burlesque on Carmen 1916 Police 1916 Triple Trouble 1918

Chaplin at Mutual The Floorwalker 1916 The Fireman 1916 The Vagabond (pathos) 1916 One A.M. 1916 The Count 1916 The Pawnshop 1916 Behind the Screen 1916 The Rink 1916

Easy Street 1917 The Cure 1917 The Immigrant 1917 The Adventurer 1917 Chaplin at First National

A Dog's Life 1918 The Bond 1918 Shoulder Arms 1918 Sunnyside (suicide) 1918 A Day's Pleasure 1918 The Kid (pathos) 1921 The Idle Class 1921 Pay Day 1922 The Pilgrim 1922 306

Chaplin and the Marx Brothers at Major Studios A Woman of Paris (United Artists) 1923 The Gold Rush (UA) 1925 The Circus (UA) 1928 * The Coacoanuts (Paramount) 1929 * Animal Crackers (P) 1930 City Lights (UA) 1931

* Monkey Business (P) 1931 * Horsefeathers (P) 1932 * Duck Soup (P) 1933 * A Night at the Opera (MGM) 1935 Modern Times (UA) 1936

* A Day at the Races (MGM) 1937 * Room Service (RKO) 1938 * At the Circus (MGM) 1939 * Go West (UA) 1940 * The Big Store (UA) 1941 The Great Dictator (UA) 1941 * A Night in Casablanca (UA) 1946 Monsieur Verdoux (UA) 1947 * Love Happy (UA) 1950 Limelight (UA) 1952 A King in New York (Archway) 1957 A Countess from Hong Kong (Universal) 1967