"I never thought I would live to see the day when the United Nations would condemn the United States for its human rights violations in illegally separating children from their parents."In his most recent appearance on Real Time With Bill Maher, Fareed Zakaria noted that "We're now in the extraordinary position where the Chancellor of Germany is a greater proponent of human rights, liberty, and democracy than the President of the United States. That's a strange world we're in!"
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| Playwright Aaron Loeb describes this photo taken at the G-7 summit as "the new Norman Rockwell image of our day" |
Many Americans are appalled by the inhumane actions being carried out by agents of the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement Agency under the direction of the Department of Homeland Security (actions which became fairly routine in Nazi Germany). As thuggishly sadistic as these political acts are in the ruthlessness with which they separate innocent children from their parents, the simple fact that they are occurring on American soil provides an opportunity to ask what kinds of situations that are not related to immigration also lead to such traumatic events.
- In some cases, Children's Protective Services must step in and remove a child from abusive parents or a home where a child's life may be endangered as a result of sheer negligence.
- Many LGBT youths have been thrown out of their homes by hyper-religious parents who disapprove of their child's sexuality.
- Some children end up in foster care after their parents are arrested and sent to jail.
- Others can become orphans as the result of an accident, overdose, violent crime, or natural disaster.
For many years, San Francisco has been a beacon of hope for people struggling to come out of the closet and lead an openly gay lifestyle (as well as those battling depression who feel that this city offers one last chance to reboot their lives before giving up). Eric Steel's powerful 2006 documentary entitled The Bridge examined the morbid fascination of people who, as part of their suicide plan, head for the Golden Gate Bridge.
Two recent screenings focused on the lives of adult men who, as boys, were raised under miserable circumstances. One was a documentary honoring the life of one of America's greatest playwrights. The other was a silent film based on a 19th-century novel. Both films left audiences acutely aware of how psychological damage inflicted in childhood can haunt adults for the rest of their lives.
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Based on Victor Hugo’s 1869 novel entitled The Man Who Laughs, Paul Leni’s 1928 silent film adaptation begins in the court of England’s King James II as the monarch sentences a political enemy (Lord Clancharlie) to death in an iron maiden. When Clancharlie asks to see his child, the King informs him that young Gwynplaine has been permanently disfigured with a Glasgow smile by Dr. Hardquannone (a notorious comprachico) so that the boy’s face will “laugh forever at his fool of a father.”When the comprachicos (gypsies who mutilated children to change their appearance so they could be sold to aristocrats as pages or jesters) are exiled from England, they abandon Gwynplaine at the last minute. Struggling to make his way through a snowstorm, he comes across a young mother who has frozen to death while holding her infant daughter. Gwynplaine rescues the girl and finds shelter with a con man named Ursus, who raises the children and includes them in his carnival act.
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| Mary Philbin (Dea) and Conrad Veidt (Gwynplaine) in a scene from The Man Who Laughs |
As an adult, Gwynplaine gains fame as "The Laughing Man" of the circus. Although his loyal German Shepherd loves him (and.the blind but beautiful Dea adores him), Hugo’s hero is cursed with low self esteem, convinced that his ghastly face is a permanent obstacle to finding true love. Following the revelation that Gwynplaine is the sole living heir to the estate of Lord ClanCharlie, his simple life as a clown and circus freak becomes a living hell. Hugo’s story builds to a climactic chase scene in which the hero's dog saves the day by clamping its fangs around the neck of the villain, Barkilphedro (Brandon Hurst), and drowning him as Gwynplaine, Dea, and Ursus make their breathtaking escape.
I first saw The Man Who Laughs during the 2008 San Francisco Silent Film Festival. Produced by Carl Laemmle (who had enjoyed great success with 1923's The Hunchback of Notre Dame and 1925's The Phantom of the Opera), Universal built more than 50 sets and spent more than $1 million on The Man Who Laughs. Thanks to Hugo’s vivid imagination, it boasts a juicy plot with plenty of strong character roles and opportunities for period costumes.
On my initial viewing, it quickly became obvious that today’s computer-generated special effects couldn’t hold a candle to Jack P. Pierce’s cosmetic tricks as a gifted make-up artist. I was completely captivated by Conrad Veidt’s slim, athletic build, his height (6'3"), and the special effects (including false teeth) that so grotesquely distorted his character's face.
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| Poster art for 1928's The Man Who Laughs |
With Clark Wilson doing a masterful job of accompanying the screening on the Mighty Wurlitzer, the audience’s empathetic reaction to Veidt’s portrayal of Gwynplaine could be felt throughout the Castro Theatre. But how can you go wrong with a blind beauty, a bitchy queen, a botched surgery, a disfigured, defiant hero and a dog named Homo?
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| Conrad Veidt (Gwynplaine) and Mary Philbin (Dea) in a scene from The Man Who Laughs |
Although Gwynplaine’s face is frozen into a ghastly smile (which subsequently became the inspiration for the Joker character in Batman comics and films), I was instantly reminded of the “Funny Face” logo of George C. Tilyou’s Steeplechase Park (which opened in 1897 in Coney Island).
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| An admission ticket to Steeplechase Park in Coney Island included George C. Tilyou's "Funny Face" logo |
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| Images of George C. Tilyou's "Funny Face" logo appeared throughout Steeplechase Park in Coney Island |
Silent film historian and theatre organist Dennis James notes that:
“Planned well before the screen began to talk and completed in 1927, The Man Who Laughs was nonetheless held back until the next year while the studio jerry-rigged a soundtrack of canned music, Foley effects, and incidental dialogue to make a kinda-sorta talkie. By the time the film premiered, it seemed hopelessly out of step and was dismissed as overblown hokum. Critics were hostile -- branding the story 'morbid,' finding surprisingly little to praise in either direction or star turn. Audiences were simply absent.”
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| Poster art for The Man Who Laughs |
“The least-known by far of Universal’s three silent ‘horror spectaculars, The Man Who Laughs virtually vanished for decades, only resurfacing in the 1970s. Its legacy may be underappreciated, but can hardly be underestimated. Two of Leni’s key collaborators (art director Charles D. Hall and make-up wizard Jack P. Pierce) both translated their innovative work in the film to serve 1930s Universal horror classics like Dracula and Frankenstein, which in turn defined the look of screen horror (and particularly monsters) for decades to come. Anyone seeing Veidt’s Gwynplaine for the first time will draw a more obvious connection to an enduring icon of pop culture: his fixed grimace was an admitted inspiration for Batman’s arch nemesis: The Joker.”
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| Conrad Veidt in a scene from The Man Who Laughs (1928) |
The San Francisco Silent Film Festival recently screened a restored print from Universal Pictures of The Man Who Laughs for the opening night selection of its 2018 festival. The added attraction was the musical performance by the Berklee Silent Film Orchestra (whose student members had composed a new score to accompany Leni's masterpiece). Their participation marked yet another installment in the continuing relationship between the Berklee College of Music in Boston and the SFSFF -- an artistic alliance that has proven to be remarkably satisfying for local audiences. One could ask which sound works better for silent film: a single organist like Clark Wilson delivering a virtuoso performance? Or an ensemble of talented young musicians performing their own music. The answer is (as improvisational actors learn to say) "Yes, and....."
For those unable to see the newly restored print, here's a full-length version of The Man Who Laughs that allows viewers to marvel at the depth and brilliance of Conrad Veidt's performance in the title role.
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On May 8, 1965, I was given some very important lessons about taking risks (I wasn't aware of what I'd absorbed at the time but, over the years, gained a deeper appreciation of what I'd learned in hindsight). A drama by a promising 24-year-old playwright had opened at the Royale Theatre to scathing reviews. Having posted the show's closing notice, the producers agreed to reduce ticket prices to $1 and $2. The remaining performances sold out to audiences comprised of drama queens eager to witness a train wreck and curious theatre buffs who couldn't resist a bargain.Although I didn't understand much of what happened onstage during Terrence McNally's play (And Things That Go Bump in the Night), I learned the value of seeing plays that did not get rave reviews (one critic wrote “The American theater would be a better place this morning if Terrence McNally’s parents had smothered him in his cradle”) as well as the value of making art accessible to people who might otherwise be priced out of attending a performance. The next time I saw a work by McNally (Noon was performed as part of a triple bill under the umbrella title of Morning, Noon, and Night), I bought a ticket because (a) I recognized the playwright's name, and (b) the producers were offering discounts on two-fers.
The beautiful new documentary about the soon-to-be 80-year-old playwright entitled Every Act of Life is a love letter to McNally who, over the course of half a century, has become one of America's most prolific dramatists as well as the first proud and openly gay major American playwright. Although his career has allowed him to work with some of the theatre's greatest talents, life has not always been easy for McNally.
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| Terrence McNally and Edward Albee in their salad days |
The son of alcoholic parents, McNally grew up in Corpus Christi, Texas without any interest in sports. After his grandfather took the six-year-old boy to see Ethel Merman in Annie Get Your Gun during a family trip to New York, McNally became hooked on theatre. He left Texas at the age of 17 to attend Columbia University as an aspiring journalism student. Over the years McNally traveled around the world while tutoring John Steinbeck's children, had close relationships with Edward Albee and Wendy Wasserstein, struggled with his own alcoholism, lost two partners (actor Robert Drivas and playwright Gary Bonasorte) to AIDS, survived lung cancer and, late in life, married theatrical producer Tom Kirdahy.
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| Terrence McNally during his wedding to Thomas Kirdahy |
Speaking to the crowd gathered for New York City's 2014 AIDS Walk, McNally said:
"I'm always startled when I'm asked why I chose to write about AIDS. There was no choice. An artist responds to their world and tries to make sense of it -- even the bad things. What else was I going to write about? The weather? It was raining AIDS and there was no umbrella large enough to shelter all of us. I'm grateful to the artists who tried to make sense of the terror and confusion, but I am bewildered and more than a little angry by the artists who did nothing while their Rome, this great city, burned. Why did I choose to write about AIDS? The question is always posed in the past tense. I am still writing about AIDS. As individuals, as a city, as a nation, we are no more done with AIDS than AIDS is done with us. Its scars are lasting. Its trauma has not gone away."
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| Terrence McNally looks out into an empty theatre |
Over the course of an extremely fruitful career, McNally has written the books for ten musicals (including Kiss of the Spider Woman, Ragtime, The Full Monty, Catch Me If You Can, and Anastasia); the librettos for three operas by composer Jake Heggie (Dead Man Walking, Three Decembers, and Great Scott); and more than 35 plays, four of which he adapted for their film versions (The Ritz, André's Mother, Frankie and Johnny, and Love! Valour! Compassion!). He has helped launch the careers of major theatre artists (Nathan Lane, F. Murray Abraham, Doris Roberts, Patrick Wilson, Joe Mantello) and faced violent protests when he portrayed Jesus Christ and the Apostles as gay men living in present-day Texas in 1998's Corpus Christi.
In 2009, McNally was a playwright in residence with San Francisco's New Conservatory Theatre Center while the company was presenting the West Coast premiere of Some Men. In addition to his writing, he teaches aspiring dramatists and stresses the need to work with young people.
Produced, written, and directed by Jeff Kaufman (along with co-producer Marcia Ross), Every Act of Life is filled with testimonials from veteran theatre artists who not only admire McNally's skill as a writer, but treasure his wit, warmth, and humanity. Christine Baranski and Angela Lansbury talk about some of the low points in McNally's life. Jack O'Brien, Billy Porter, and Audra McDonald (who insists that "You cannot tell the history of the American theater without celebrating the work of Terrence McNally"), don't just marvel at the playwright's versatility, but also describe how deeply his work has impacted their lives. In the following two clips, McNally discusses how and where he finds inspiration for his writing.
As he nears his 80th birthday, McNally has a wealth of experience to celebrate as a writer, dramatist, teacher, and collaborator who has enjoyed success in theatre, opera, film, and television. That's why this 2010 video clip in which he talks about two of his favorite musicians (Leontyne Price and James Levine) offers viewers a chance to appreciate his enthusiasm as an opera fan as well as his craft as a wordsmith.
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