What I Really Want to Do Is Act...Serious

Now, there’re some sad things known to man
But ain’t too much sadder than
The tears of a clown
When there’s no one around
"The Tears of a Clown" (1967)



Prologue:

The ironic image of a tearful clown is a time-honored dramatic device, probably made most famous in Ruggero Leoncavallo’s 1892 opera "Pagliacci" (translated as "Clowns"), a tragic tale of jealousy, adultery and murder in a traveling commedia dell’arte troupe. It’s no coincidence that Smokey Robinson included the lyric, "Just like Pagliacci did, I try to keep my sadness hid," in his 1967 hit song "The Tears of a Clown," repeating the line from an earlier song he co-wrote, "My Smile Is Just a Frown (Turned Upside Down)." (Smokey was seemingly hung up on the notion of hiding sadness behind a false smile, since he used it again in "The Tracks of My Tears.")

Lon Chaney, Sr. portrayed tragic clowns in a pair of silent screen classics, "He Who Gets Slapped" and "Laugh, Clown, Laugh." Even Walt Disney’s "Dumbo" found himself humiliated when he was forced into becoming part of the circus clown act.

In the 1940s and ‘50s, Emmett Kelly was a major attraction with the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus as "Weary Willie," a sad-faced, luckless clown based on Depression-era hobos. (His estranged son, Emmett Kelly, Jr. created a similar "Weary Willie" clown character, though the younger Kelly insisted his was "less sad.")

Charlie Chaplin’s beloved "Little Tramp," although essentially a comedic figure, was capable of evincing spectacular moments of heartbreaking pathos. The same could be said of "The Great Stone Face," Buster Keaton.

Does this mean that inside every clown there is a tragedian waiting to come out?

Over time, a number of entertainers and actors with careers pigeonholed in comedy have dared to step outside their holes to flex their acting chops, sometimes with satisfying results, other times less so.


Send in the Clowns:

In 1934, W.C. Fields, America’s favorite curmudgeon and funniest misanthrope, replaced Charles Laughton as Mr. Micawber in producer David O. Selznick’s lavish presentation of Charles Dickens’ "David Copperfield." A longtime reader and admirer of Dickens, Fields himself was described by more than one contemporary as someone who could have stepped out of a Dickens novel. Portraying the hopelessly optimistic Micawber, forever in debt, who befriends the young Copperfield, Fields more than held his own among such imposing Hollywood talents as Basil Rathbone, Lionel Barrymore, and Elsa Lanchester. Director George Cukor later recalled that Fields "was born to play Micawber…He was charming to work with." As a reward for his exceptional performance, he was given top billilng.

Bob Hope played against type in the non-comedic role of Jimmy Walker, the colorful but controversial mayor of New York City from 1926 to 1932, in "Beau James" (1957), although, truth be told, the flamboyant nature of the character allowed Hope some latitude for wisecracks.

Jackie Gleason didn’t back away from throwing his weight around as a serious thespian, notably in an Oscar-nominated turn as billiards champ Minnesota Fats, facing off against Paul Newman’s Fast Eddie Felson in "The Hustler" (1961). In 1962, dancer-turned-director Gene Kelly drew out a sweetly touching performance from Gleason in the title role of "Gigot," a poor, deaf and mute Parisian, beloved by children but shunned by grown-ups. In some aspects, the character (created by Gleason as a tribute to Charlie Chaplin’s silent classic "The Kid") is related to "The Poor Soul," a pathetic schlepp Gleason performed in wordless pantomine on his variety show. "The Great One" was equally moving in 1963’s "Soldier in the Rain," portraying a world-weary master sergeant who befriends a young country hick of a buck sergeant, played with an unlikely flair for unaffected comedy by Steve McQueen.

Gleason’s final film role was a memorably searing portrait of Tom Hanks’ acerbic, infirm father in "Nothing in Common" (1986). This film also has been cited as the beginning of a turning point for Tom Hanks himself, moving away from flippant comedic roles to ones of more meaningful substance. He noted that "Nothing in Common" "changed my desires about working in movies."

Peter Sellers’ legacy as a genius of screen comedy has been posthumously debated as simply a mastery of mimicry. Nevertheless, he occasionally ventured beyond his comfort zone by exploring dramatic, if not melodramatic, territory. One such early attempt was his portrayal of a vicious, sadistic gangster in "Never Let Go" (1960). That same year, he made a disturbing impression as Quilty, the chameleon-like stalker-kidnapper, in director Stanley Kubrick’s version of "Lolita." The role was expanded from Vladimir Nabakov’s novel, and Kubrick allowed Sellers to use a variety of disguises throughout the movie. Sellers would later recall, "Quilty was a fantastic nightmarish character, part homosexual, part drug addict, part sadist, part masochist, part anything twisted and unhealthy you can think of."

The creepiness was revisited in 1970 when Sellers played a businessman who blackmails his young, engaged secretary to spend a weekend with him in "Hoffman." His penultimate role before his death in 1980 was as the enigmatic, splendiferously emotionless Chance the Gardener in "Being There" (1979). The performance earned him a well-deserved Academy Award nomination and would have served as a fitting swan song for his life and career, but he lived long enough to complete one more film, an embarrassingly humorless "comedy" called "The Fiendish Plot of Dr. Fu Manchu."

For the lilting quality of Chance's simplistic dialogue in "Being There," Sellers said he patterned his voice after that of one of his comic inspirations, Stan Laurel. TV funny man Dick Van Dyke was, likewise, a big fan of Stan Laurel. On the set of "The Dick Van Dyke Show," the star confessed to show creator Carl Reiner how he wished he had been able to work in the same period as his heroes, Laurel, Chaplin, and Keaton. He got his wish, vicariously, in 1969 when Reiner directed him in "The Comic," an unflattering portrait of a fictional silent film clown whose successful career is undermined by self-destructive depression and alcoholism. A recovering alcoholic himself, Van Dyke starred in a 1974 TV movie about the disease titled "The Morning After."

TV funny woman Carol Burnett dipped her toes in the waters of serious cinema in 1972 when she co-starred with Walter Matthau in "Pete ‘n’ Tillie," a drama with humorous touches about married life in the suburbs. But it was on the small screen where she made her most indelible impression as an actor of depth and passion, notably in the television movies "Friendly Fire" (Emmy-nominated as the mother of a Vietnam War fatality), "Between Friends" (co-starring Elizabeth Taylor), and "Hostage" (which paired her with her late daughter Carrie Hamilton).

(Editor’s note: If readers wonder if mention will be made of Lucille Ball, the prerequisite for this exercise is that the individual had to be known foremost as a comedian, and none of us here, frankly, ever thought she was funny in the first place.)

Twenty-five years before the Oscars’ poster-boy for bouncing-off-the-wall goofballs, Robert Benigni, was honored for "Life Is Beautiful," his tragi-comic depiction of an Italian waiter who, along with his family, is sent to a World War II death camp, comedy king Jerry Lewis attempted to direct "The Day the Clown Cried," starring himself as a depressed, once-famous German circus clown who is imprisoned as a political prisoner and ends up leading a trainload of Jewish children to Auschwitz, where he entertains them before perishing with the lot in the camp’s gas chambers.

Initially Lewis reportedly told the film’s producer, "My bag is comedy, and you’re asking me if I’m prepared to deliver helpless kids into a gas chamber? Ho-ho. Some laughs…" His subsequent belief that he would be doing something important was subverted by one setback after another until the producer ran out of money. Lewis ultimately confiscated a rough cut of the film. One of the few who has seen this version was comedian Harry Shearer, a friend of Lewis’, who said it was "perfect" in its awfulness. Although Lewis allegedly refuses to discuss the making of the movie and has the sole copy locked in a private vault where he vows to keep it from ever being viewed again, he admitted in an autobiography that he was still trying to get past litigation so he could edit the rough cut and see its release. "One way or another, I’ll get it done," he wrote. "The picture must be seen…at least by every kid in the world who’s only heard there was such a thing as the Holocaust."

Jerry Lewis’ most accessible dramatic role came in 1983 when he replaced a reluctant Johnny Carson as an abducted late-night TV talk show host in Martin Scorsese’s dark look at twisted obsession, "The King of Comedy." A remarkably restrained Lewis proved himself a formidable opponent in confrontations with the intimidating Robert De Niro.

In a life cut short by substance abuse, "Saturday Night Live" bad boy John Belushi starred in only seven films, but it was in 1981’s "Continental Divide" that he made his most sincere attempt as a mainstream leading man. He honestly seemed to have channeled the spirit of Spencer Tracy in his portrayal of a gruff, hard-nosed Chicago newspaper columnist (inspired by legendary real-life Chicago columnist Mike Royko) who falls in love with feisty naturalist Blair Brown.

John Belushi’s closest friend, Dan Aykroyd, received an Academy Award nomination for his brief but memorable role as Jessica Tandy’s doting son Boolie in "Driving Miss Daisy" (1989). Other dramatic parts followed, including "My Girl," "My Girl 2," "Chaplin" (as pioneering slapstick comedy director Mack Sennett), and "Pearl Harbor."

In between "Ghostbusters" romps, "SNL" alumhus Bill Murray took a daring leap of faith by co-writing and starring in a pet project of adapting W. Somerset Maugham’s metaphysical novel The Razor’s Edge for the screen in 1984. Only recently, after impressive, more-or-less dramatic roles in "Rushmore," "Lost in Translation," and "Broken Flowers," has Murray’s earnest work in that ’84 film been sincerely appreciated.

People might have expected a comedy when, in 1989, Eddie Murphy made his directing debut with "Harlem Nights," uniting him with his comic heroes Richard Pryor and Redd Foxx, with Della Reese and Arsenio Hall along for the ride. The cruel joke on the audience was when the film turned out to be a crude, violent clash between honorable Harlem hoodlums and greedy white gangsters and corrupt white cops. In 2006, Murphy’s supporting role as the James Brown-like soul singer James "Thunder" Early in "Dreamgirls" was rewarded with a supporting actor Oscar nomination.

Continuing the "Saturday Night Live" connection, Adam Sandler has visibly matured from the juvenile simpletons in "Billy Madison," "Happy Gilmore," "The Water Boy," "Big Daddy," and "Little Nicky" into grown-up roles in "Punch-Drunk Love," "Spanglish," and "Reign Over Me." Mike Myers gave an unexpectedly candid and acclaimed performance as real-life Steve Rubell, the mastermind behind New York City’s mecca of 1970s disco culture, Studio 54, in the 1998 movie known simply as "54." And with his appearance in "Stranger Than Fiction," Will Ferrell exhibited a willingness and capacity for talents other than wisecracks, mugging, and streaking. Of course, sharing the screen with Oscar winners and nominess Emma Thompson, Dustin Hoffman, Linda Hunt, Tom Hulce, and Queen Latifah doesn’t hurt one’s dramatic potential either.

The late Chris Farley (1964-1997) deeply wanted to star in a serious biopic of the tragic silent film comedian Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle. A decade after Farley’s death that movie is finally being made. (The late James Coco had starred in a highly fictionalized look at the legendary silent clown’s downfall in 1975’s "The Wild Party," co-starring Raquel Welch.) "The Life of the Party" will star Preston Lacey, a former truck driver and Farley-lookalike best known as a performer-writer on MTV’s "Jackass," with former "SNL" player Chris Kattan as Buster Keaton.

John Candy, another comedy heavyweight (literally) whose life was all too predictably cut short in 1994, displayed a warm gift for plucking the heartstrings as a cop, still living with his mother, who falls for a shy mortician’s daughter in "Only the Lonely," a sentimental update of Paddy Chayefsky’s classic "Marty" made all the more tender by the return to the big screen, after an absence of 20 years, of Maureen O’Hara as Candy’s possessive mom.

"Only the Lonely" was reminiscent of 1980’s "Fatso," starring Dom DeLuise as a shy, overweight owner of a greeting card shop who falls in love with the reticent young woman working at a nearby antique store. Written and directed by the late Anne Bancroft (who portrays Dom’s nagging sister), the dramedy was reportedly sabotaged by gags courtesy of an uncredited Mel Brooks (also known as Bancroft’s husband).

Steve Martin's multifaceted career has seen him make the transition from a TV gag writer for the Smothers Brothers, Glen Campbell, and Sonny and Cher to a wild and crazy stand-up comic to a leading man in screen comedies, but along the way he has also taken the rare sidestep to prove himself a dramatic actor, in "A Simple Twist of Fate" in 1994, "The Spanish Prisoner" in 1997, and 2005's "Shopgirl," the screenplay for which star and co-proudcer Martin based on his own novel.

Before he guest-hosted on the first season of "Saturday Night Live," and years before he hooked up with Gene Wilder for a string of popular funny films, Richard Pryor appeared in a number of blaxploitation pictures and gave an acclaimed performance as the ill-fated "Piano Man" in the hit movie "Lady Sings the Blues." In 1978, he co-starred with Harvey Keitel and Yaphet Kotto in "Blue Collar," a gritty urban drama about a trio of auto workers who take on their crooked union, and in 1986, he co-produced, co-wrote, directed and starred in "Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling," a quasi-autobiographical film stemming from Pryor's near-death experience in 1980 in a drug-related accident. His last movie role was in director David Laynch's "Lost Highway" (1997), at which time he was wheelchair-bound with multiple sclerosis.

Since 2001, Jamie Foxx’s comic appearances on TV’s "In Living Color" and "The Jamie Foxx Show" have become a distant memory, thanks to dramatic roles in "Any Given Sunday," "Ray" (for which he won the best actor Oscar), "Collateral," "Stealth," "Jarhead," "Miami Vice," "Dreamgirls," and "The Kingdom." Another veteran of the irreverent sketch comedy series "In Living Color," Jim Carrey, has challenged himself, to varying degrees of success, with dramatic exercises in the nostalgic "The Majestic," the thought-provoking "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," and the spooky "The Number 23."

Ben Stiller had his own skit comedy show, shortlived but a cult favorite, and over the past several years has starred in or made cameos in a string (some say too long of a string) of comedy films, but in 1998 he etched a harrowing portrait of Jerry Stahl, a real-life TV writer who precariously balanced a successful career with a $6000-a-week heroin habit, in "Permanent Midnight," based on Stahl’s memoir. (Incidentally, in 2004, Stahl wrote a fictionalized autobiography of Fatty Arbuckle titled I, Fatty.)

And that brings us to the king of serio-comedy, Robin Williams, an actor of unquestionable range who runs the gamut between over-the-top annoyance and soft-spoken subtlety. There’s Williams as the staid seeker of truth in "The World According to Garp," "Awakenings," "Good Will Hunting," and "What Dreams May Come." There’s Williams as the askew rebel from "Good Morning, Vietnam," "Dead Poets Society," and "The Fisher King." And then there’s the bone-chilling creepy Williams in "One Hour Photo" and "Insomnia."


Epilogue:

Two famous names from the world of comedy who deserve mention here are Moe Howard of The Three Stooges and Huntz Hall from the Bowery Boys, although whether or not their final film appearances qualify as dramatic roles is open to debate. Nevertheless, continuing in a spirit of fun, worth noting is Moe’s cameo in a cheesy 1973 horror cheapie about a thousand-year-old magician titled "Dr. Death: Seeker of Souls." Huntz Hall, forever endearing as the blissfully ignorant innocent, Horace Debussy "Sach" Jones, capped off his 55-year career with a cameo in 1992’s "Auntie Lee’s Meat Pies," a dark, toungue-in-cheek take on cannibalism, starring Karen Black ("House of 1000 Corpses"), the late Pat Morita ("The Karate Kid"), comedian and six-time Presidential "candidate" Pat Paulsen, and Michael Berryman (Pluto in the original "The Hills Have Eyes"), along with a quartet of Playboy magazine Playmates.


Postscript:

By the 1940s, Buster Keaton was not much more than an uncredited gag writer, contributing updates of his slapstick routines for Red Skelton movies. Red, TV’s most beloved clown, was himself the son of a former circus clown. Skelton’s portrait paintings of clowns garnered a fortune after he left television, and in 1989, he was inducted into the International Clown Hall of Fame.

Red once said, "My mother taught me something I’ve never forgotten. ‘Don’t take life too seriously, son. You don’t come out of it alive anyway.'"