Daniel Titley on the lost classic, "London After Midnight"

So, Daniel, when did you first become aware of London After Midnight?

Daniel: I was about seven years old when I first stumbled into Lon Chaney through my love of all things Universal horror, and just that whole plethora of characters and actors that you just knew by name, but hadn't necessarily seen away from the many still photographs of Frankenstein, Dracula, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And the Phantom was the one to really spark my interest.

But this was prior to eBay. I couldn't see the film of Lon Chaney's Phantom of the Opera for a year. So, I kind of had the ultimate build to books and documentaries, just teasing me, teasing me all the time. And when I eventually did watch a few documentaries, the one thing that they all had in common was the name Lon Chaney.

I just thought I need to learn more about this character Lon Chaney, because he just found someone of superhuman proportions just who have done all of these crazy diverse characters. And, that's where London After Midnight eventually peeked out at me and, occupied a separate interest as all the Chaney characterizations do.

So how did you get into the Universal films? Were you watching them on VHS? Were they on tv? Did the DVDs happen by then?

Daniel: I was still in the VHS days. My dad is a real big fan of all this as well. So he first saw Bela Lugosi's Dracula, on TV when he was a kid. And prior to me being born he had amassed a huge VHS collection and a lot of those had Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Henry Hull, Claude Rains, Vincent Price, what have you.

And a lot of them were dedicated to Universal horrors. And as a young curious kid, my eyes eventually crossed these beautiful cases and I really wanted to watch them. I think my first one I ever watched was The Mummy's Tomb or Curse of the Mummy. And it's just grown ever since, really.

You're starting at the lesser end of the Universal monsters. It's like someone's starting the Marx Brothers at The Big Store and going, "oh, these are great. I wonder if there's anything better?"

Daniel: I really had no immediate go-to reference for London after Midnight, away from one or two images in a book. Really clearly they were very impactful images of Chaney, skulking around the old haunted mansion with Edna Tichenor by his side with the lantern, the eyes, the teeth, the cloak, the top hat, the webs, everything. Pretty much everything that embodies a good atmospheric horror movie, but obviously we couldn't see it.

So that is all its fangs had deepened itself into my bloodstream at that point, just like, why is it lost? Why can't I see it? And again, the term lost film was an alien concept to me at a young age. I've always been a very curious child. Anything that I don't know or understand that much, even things I do understand that well, I always have to try to find out more, 'cause I just can't accept that it's like a bookend process. It begins and then it ends.

And that was the thing with London after Midnight. Everything I found in books or in little interviews, they were just all a bit too brief. And I just thought there has to be a deeper history here, as there are with many of the greatest movies of all time. But same with the movies that are more obscure. There is a full history there somewhere because, 'cause a film takes months to a year to complete.

It was definitely a good challenge for me. When we first had our first home computer, it was one of those very few early subjects I was typing in like crazy to try to find out everything that I could. And, that all incubated in my little filing cabinet, which I was able to call upon years later.

Some things which were redundant, some things which I had the only links to that I had printed off in advance quite, sensibly so, but then there were certain things that just had lots of question marks to me. Like, what year did the film perish? How did it perish? The people who saw the film originally?

And unlike a lot of Chaney films, which have been covered in immense detail, London after Midnight, considering it's the most famous of all lost films, still for me, had major holes in it that I just, really wanted to know the answers to.

A lot of those answers, eventually, I found, even people who knew and institutions that knew information to key events like famous MGM Fire, they were hard pressed to connect anything up, in regards to the film. It was like a jigsaw puzzle. I had all these amazing facts. However, none of them kind of made sense with each other.

My favorite thing is researching and finding the outcomes to these things. So that's originally what spiraled me into the storm of crafting this, initial dissertation that I set myself, which eventually became so large. I had to do it as a book despite, I'd always wanted to do a book as a kid.

When you see people that you idolize for some reason, you just want to write a book on them. Despite, there had been several books on Lon Chaney. But I just always knew from my childhood that I always wanted to contribute a printed volume either on Chaney or a particular film, and London after Midnight seemed to present the opportunity to me.

I really just didn't want it to be a rehash of everything that we had seen before or read before in other accounts or in the Famous Monsters of Filmland Magazine, but just with a new cover. So, I thought I would only do a book if I could really contribute a fresh new perspective on the subject, which I hope hopefully did.

Oh, you absolutely did. And this is an exhaustive book and a little exhausting. There's a ton of stuff in here. You mentioned Famous Monster of the Filmland, which is where I first saw that image. There's at least one cover of the magazine that used that image. And Forrest Ackerman had some good photos and would use them whenever he could and also would compare them to Mark the Vampire, the remake, partially because I think Carol Borland was still alive and he could interview her. And he talked about that remake quite a bit.

But that iconic image that he put on the cover and whenever he could in the magazine--in my mind when you think of Lon Chaney, there's three images that come to mind: Phantom of the Opera, Quasimoto, and this one. And I think this one, the Man in the Beaver hat probably is the most iconic of his makeups, because, 'cause it is, it's somehow it got adopted into the culture as this is what you go to when it's a creepy guy walking around. And that's the one that everyone remembers. Do you have any idea, specifically what his process was for making that look, because it, it is I think ultimately a fairly simple design. It's just really clever.

Daniel: Yes, it probably does fall into the category of his more simplistic makeups. But, again, Chaney did a lot of things simplistic-- today --were never seen back then in say, 1927. Particularly in the Phantom of the Opera's case in 1925, in which a lot of that makeup today would be done through CG, in terms of trying to eliminate the nose or to make your lips move to express dialogue.

Chaney was very fortunate to have lived in the pantomime era, where he didn't have to rely on how his voice would sound, trying to talk through those dentures, in which case the makeup would probably have to have been more tamed to allow audio recorded dialogue to properly come through.

But with regards to the beaver hat makeup, he had thin wires that fitted around his eyes to give it a more hypnotic stare. The teeth, which he had constructed by a personal dentist, eventually had a wire attached to the very top that held the corners of his mouth, opening to a nice curved, fixated, almost joker like grin.

You can imagine with the monocles around his eyes, he was thankful there probably wasn't that much wind on a closed set, because he probably couldn't have closed his eyes that many times. But a lot of these things become spoken about and detailed over time with mythic status. That he had to have his eyes operated on to achieve the constant widening of his eyelids. Or the teeth -- he could only wear the teeth for certain periods of time before accidentally biting his tongue or his lips, et cetera.

But Chaney certainly wasn't a sadist, with himself, with his makeups. He was very professional. Although he did go through undoubtedly a lot of discomfort, especially probably the most, explicit case would be for the Hunchback of Notre Dame, in which his whole body is crooked down into a stooped position.

But, with London After Midnight, I do highly suspect that the inspiration for that makeup in general came from the Dracula novel. And because MGM had not acquired the rights to the Dracula novel, unlike how Universal acquired the rights of the Hunchback or, more importantly, Phantom of the Opera, by which point Gaston Leroux was still alive.

It was just a loose adaptation of Dracula. But nevertheless, when you read the description of Dracula in Bram Stoker's novel, he does bear a similarity to Chaney's vampire, in which it's the long hair, a mouth full of sharp teeth, a ghastly pale palor and just dressed all in black and carries around a lantern.

Whereas Bela Lugosi takes extraordinary leaps and turns away from the Stoker novel. But it must have definitely had an impact at the time, enough for MGM to over-market the image of Chaney's vampire, which only appears in the film for probably just under four minutes, compared to his detective disguise, which is the real main character of the film.

Although the thing we all wanna see is Cheney moving about as the vampire and what facial expressions he pulled. It's just something that we just want to see because it's Lon Chaney.

Right. And it makes you wonder if he had lived and had gotten to play Dracula, he kind of boxed himself into a corner, then if he'd already used the look from the book, you wonder what he would've come up with, if Lugosi hadn't done it, and if Chaney had had been our first Dracula.

The other thing that I think of is here's a guy who -- take Hunchback or Phantom or even this thing -- whatever process he went through to put that makeup on, you know, was hours of work, I'm sure. Hunchback several hours of work to get to that, that he did himself, and then they'd film all day.

So, on top of, I mean, I just think that that's like, wow, when you think about today where somebody might go into a makeup chair and have two or three people working on them to get the look they want. Even if it took a few hours, that person is just sitting there getting the makeup done. He's doing all of this, and then turns in a full day, uh, in front of the cameras, which to me is like, wow, that's incredible.

Daniel: Definitely, it's like two jobs in one. I imagine for an actor it must be really grueling in adapting to a makeup, especially if it's a heavy makeup where it covers the whole of your head or crushes down your nose, changes your lips, the fumes of chemicals going into your eyes.

But then by the end of it, I imagine you are quite exhausted from just your head adapting to that. But then you have to go out and act as well. With Chaney, I suppose he could be more of a perfectionist than take as much time as he wanted within reason. And then once he came to the grueling end of it all, he's actually gotta go out and act countless takes. Probably repair a lot of the makeup as well after, after a couple of takes, certainly with things like the Hunchback or the Phantom of the Opera.

And, you know, it's not only is he doing the makeup and acting, but in, you know, not so much in London After Midnight, but in Phantom of the Opera, he is quite athletic. When the phantom moves, he really moves. He's not stooped. He's got a lot of energy to him and he's got a makeup on that, unlike the Quasimoto makeup, what he's attempting to do with the phantom is, reductive. He's trying to take things away from his face.

And he's using all the tricks he knows and lighting to make that happen, but that means he's gotta hit particular marks for the light to hit it just right. And for you to see that his face is as, you know, skull-like as he made it. When you see him, you know, in London After Midnight as the professor inspector character, he has got a normal full man's face. It's a real face. Much like his son, he had a kind of a full face and what he was able to do with a phantom and take all that away, and be as physical as he was, is just phenomenal. I mean, he was a really, besides the makeup, he was a really good actor.

Daniel: Oh, definitely.

I wonder if he was the makeup artist, but not the actor and he did exactly the same makeup on somebody else. And so we had the same image. If those things would've resonated with us the way they do today. I think it had everything to do with who he was and his abilities in addition to the incredible makeup. He was just a tremendous performer.

Daniel: Absolutely. He was a true multitasker. In his early days of theater, he was not only an actor, but he was a choreographer. He had a lot of jobs behind the scenes as well. Even when he had become a star in his own time, he would still help actors find the character within them. like Norma Sheera, et cetera. People who were kind of new to the movie making scene and the directors didn't really have that much patience with young actors or actresses.

Whereas Chaney, because of his clout in the industry, no one really interfered with Chaney's authority on set. But he would really help actors find the character, find the emotion, 'cause it was just all about how well you translate it over for the audience, as opposed to the actor feeling a certain way that convinces themselves that they're the character. Chaney always tried to get the emotions across to the audience. Patsy Ruth Miller, who played Esemerelda in in the Hunchback, said that Chaney directed the film more than the director actually did.

The director was actually even suggested by Chaney. So, Chaney really had his hands everywhere in the making of a film. And Patsy Ruth Miller said the thing that she learned from him was that it's the actress's job to make the audience feel how the character's meant to be feeling, and not necessarily the actor to feel what they should be feeling based on the script and the settings and everything.

So I think, that's why Chaney in particular stands out, among all of the actors of his time.

I think he would've transitioned really well into sound. I think, he had everything necessary to make that transition. There's one sound picture with him in it, isn't there, doesn't he? Doesn't he play a ventriloquist?

Daniel: Yes, it was a remake of The Unholy Three that he had made in 1925 as Echo the ventriloquist, and the gangster. And yes, by the time MGM had decided to pursue talkies -- also, funny enough, they were one of the last studios to transition to, just because they were the most, one, probably the most dominant studio in all of Hollywood, that they didn't feel the pressure to compete with the burgeoning talkie revolution.

So they could afford to take their time, they could release a talkie, but then they could release several silent films and the revenue would still be amazing for the studio. Whereas other studios probably had to conform really quick just because they didn't have the star system, that MGM shamelessly flaunted.

And several Chaney films had been transitioned to sound at this point with or without Chaney. But for Chaney himself, because he himself was the special effect, it was guaranteed to be a winner even if it had been an original story that isn't as remembered today strictly because people get to hear the thing that's been denied them for all this time, which is Chaney's voice.

And he would've transitioned very easily to talkies is because he had a very rich, deep voice, which, coming from theater, he had to have had, in terms of doing dialogue. He wasn't someone like a lot of younger actors who had started out predominantly in feature films who could only pantomime lines. Chaney actually knew how to deliver dialogue, so it did feel natural and it didn't feel read off the page.

And he does about five voices in The Unholy Three. So MGM was truly trying to market, his voice for everything that they could. As Mrs. O'Grady, his natural voice, he imitates a parrot and a girl. And yeah, he really would've flourished in the sound era.

Any surprises, as it sounds like you were researching this for virtually your whole life, but were there any surprises that you came across, as you really dug in about the film?

Daniel: With regards to London after Midnight, the main surprise was undoubtedly the -- probably the star chapter of the whole thing -- which is the nitrate frames from an actual destroyed print of the film itself, which sounds crazy to even being able to say it. But, yeah the nitrate frames themselves presented a quandary of questions that just sent me into a whole nother research mode trying to find out where these impossible images came from, who they belonged to, why they even existed, why they specifically existed.

Because, looking for something that, you know, you are told doesn't exist. And then to find it, you kind of think someone is watching over you, planting this stuff as though it's the ultimate tease. To find a foreign movie poster for London After Midnight would be one thing, but to find actual pieces of the lost film itself. It was certainly the most out of body experience I've ever had. Just to find something that I set out to find, but then you find it and you still can't believe that you've actually found it.

How did you find it?

Daniel: I had connections with a few foreign archives who would befriend me and took to my enthusiasm with the silent era, and specifically Chaney and all the stars connected to Chaney films.

And, quite early on I was told that there were a few photo albums that had various snippets of silent films from Chaney. They didn't really go into what titles these were, 'cause they were just all a jumble. All I knew is that they came from (garbled) widow. And he had acquired prints of the whole films from various, I suppose, junk stores in Spain.

But not being a projectionist, he just purely took them at the face value that he just taken the images and snipping them up and putting them in photo albums, like how you would just do with photographs. And then the rest of the material was sadly discarded by fire. So, all we were left with were these snipped relics, survivors almost to several Chaney lost films. Some of them not lost, but there were films like The Phantom of the Opera in there, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, Mockery, The Unknown.

But then there were several lost films such as London After Midnight, the Big City, Thunder. And All the Brothers were Valiant, which are mainly other than Thunder are all totally complete lost films.

So, to find this little treasure trove, it was just finding out what the images meant and connecting them up, trying to put them in some sort of chronological scholarly order. Grueling, but it was very fun at the same time. And because I had identified myself with all of these surviving production stills from the film -- a lot of them, which formed the basis of the 2002 reconstruction by Turner Classic Movies -- it didn't take me too long to identify what scenes these surviving nitrate frames were from.

But there were several frames which had sets that I recognized and costumes that I recognized, but in the photographic stills, they don't occupy the same space at the same time. So, it's like the two separate elements had crossed over. So that left me with a scholarly, question of what I was looking at.

I was able to go back and, sort of rectify certain wrongs that have been accepted throughout the sixties as being the original, say, opening to London after Midnight. So I've, been able to disprove a few things that have made the film, I suppose, a bit more puzzling to audiences. Some audiences didn't really get what the plot was to begin with. So, it was nice to actually put a bit more order to the madness finally.

At what point did you come across the original treatment and the script?

Daniel: The treatment and the script, they came from a private collector who had bought them at auction a number of years ago who I was able to thankfully contact, and they still had the two documents in question. I had learned through Philip J Riley's previous books on London after Midnight that he had the two latter drafts of the script, the second edition and the third draft edition.

And, again, the question of why and where. I just always wondered where that first draft of the script was, hoping it would contain new scenes, and open new questions for me and to study. And once I've managed to find those two documents, they did present a lot of new, perspectives and material that added to the fuller plot of the original hypnotist scenario, as opposed to the shortened, time efficient London After Midnight film that was ultimately delivered to audiences. So again, it helped to put a little bit more order to the madness.

You found an actual piece of the film that you were able to, somebody got images from it? And then you found the scripts? But the images are terrific and they're all in your book. They came from what exactly?

Daniel: The just below 20 images of the film came from originally a distribution print, a Spanish distribution print, from about 1928. Originally, they were on 35 millimeter indicating that they were from the studio and as is with a lot of silent films that have been found in foreign archives.

Normally when a film is done with its distribution, it would have to be returned to the original studio to be destroyed, except for the original negative and a studio print, because there is no reason why a studio would need to keep the thousands of prints when they have the pristine copy in their vault.

 But, in a lot of smaller theater cases, in order to save money on the postage of the shipping, they would just basically declare that they had destroyed the film on the studio's behalf. There was no record system with this stuff and that's how a lot of these films ended up in the basements of old theaters, which are eventually when they closed, the assets were sold off to collectors or traveling showmen. And eventually these films found their ways into archives or again, private collections. Some of which people know what they have.

A lot of times they don't know what they have because they're more obsessed with, naturally, more dedicated to preserving the films of their own culture that was shown at the time, as opposed to a foreign American title, which they probably assume they already have a copy of. But it's how a lot of these films get found.

And, with the London After Midnight, example, there were the images that I found spanned the entire seven reels, because they came from different points in the film. It wasn't a single strip of film, of a particular scene. Having thankfully the main source that we have for London After Midnight is the cutting continuity, which is the actual film edited down shot for shot, length for length.

And it describes, briefly, although descriptive enough, what is actually in each and every single shot of the film. And comparing the single frame images from the film with this document, I was able to identify at what point these frames came from during the film, which again spanned the entire seven reels, indicating that a complete seven reel version of the film had gotten out under the studio system at one point.

As is the case, I'm assuming, 'cause these came from the same collection, I'm assuming it was the same with the other lost Chaney films that again, sadly only survive in snippet form.

It's like somebody was a collector and his wife said, "well, we don't have room for all this. Just take the frames you like and we'll get rid of the rest of it."

So, you mentioned in passing the 2002 reconstruction that Turner Classic Movies did using the existing stills. I don't know if they were working from any of the scripts or not. That was the version I originally saw when I was working on writing, those portions of The Misers Dream that mentioned London After Midnight.

Based on what you know now, how close is that reconstruction and where do you think they got it right and where'd they get it wrong?

Daniel: The 2002, reconstruction, while a very commendable production, it does stray from the original edited film script. Again, the problem that they clearly faced on that production is that there were not enough photographed scenes to convey all the photographed scenes from the film. So what they eventually fell into the trap of doing was having to reuse the same photograph to sometimes convey two separate scenes, sometimes flipping the image to appear on the opposite side of the camera. And, because of the certain lack of stills in certain scenes cases, they had to rewrite them.

And sometimes a visual scene had to have been replaced with an inter-title card, merely describing what had happened or describing a certain period in time, as opposed to showing a photograph of what we're meant to be seeing as opposed to just reading. So, they did the best with what they had.

But since then, there have been several more images crop up in private collections or in the archives. So, unless a version of the film gets found, it's certainly an endeavor that could be revisited, I think, and either do a new visual reconstruction of sort, or attempt some sort remake of the film even.

They certainly have the materials to do that. I've got an odd question. There's one famous image, a still image from the film, showing Chaney as Professor Burke, and he is reaching out to the man in the beaver hat whose back is to us. Is that a promo photo? Spoiler alert, Burke is playing the vampire in the movie. He admits that that's him. So, he never would've met the character. What is the story behind that photo?

Daniel: There are actually three photographs depicting that, those characters that you described. There are the two photographs which show Chaney in the Balfor mansion seemingly directing a cloaked, top hatted figure with long hair, with its back towards us. And then there is another photograph of Chaney in the man in the beaver hat disguise with a seemingly twin right beside him outside of a door.

Basically the scenes in the film in which Chaney appear to the Hamlin residents, the people who are being preyed upon by the alleged vampires, the scenes where Chaney and the vampire need to coexist in the same space or either appear to be in the same vicinity to affect other characters while at the same time interrogating others, Chaney's character of Burke employs a series of assistants to either dress up as vampires or at certain times dress up as his version of the vampire to parade around and pretend that they are the man in the beaver hat. Those particular shots, though, the vampire was always, photographed from behind rather than the front.

The very famous scene, which was the scene that got first got me interested in London After Midnight, in which the maidm played by Polly Moran is in the chair shrieking at Chaney's winged self, hovering over her. It was unfortunate to me to realize that that was actually a flashback scene told from the maid's perspective.

And by the end of the film, the maid is revealed to be an informant of Burke, a secret detective also. So, it's really a strong suspension of disbelief has to be employed because the whole scene of Chaney chasing the maid through the house and appearing under the door, that was clearly just the MGMs marketing at work just to show Chaney off in a bizarre makeup with a fantastic costume.

Whereas he is predominantly the detective and the scenes where he's not needed to hypnotize a character in the full vampire makeup, he just employs an assistant who parades around in the house as him, all the times with his back turned so that the audience can't latch on as to who the character actually is, 'cause it must have posed quite a fun confusion that how can Chaney be a detective in this room where the maid has just ran from the Vampire, which is also Chaney?

Yeah, and it doesn't help that the plot is fairly convoluted anyway, and then you add that layer. So, do you think we'll ever see a copy of it? Do you think it's in a basement somewhere?

Daniel: I've always personally believed that the film does exist. Not personally out of just an unfounded fanboy wish, but just based on the evidence and examples of other films that have been found throughout time. Metropolis being probably the most prominent case.

But, at one point there was nothing on London After Midnight and now there is just short of 20 frames for the film. So, if that can exist currently now in the year 2023, what makes us think that more footage can't be found by, say, 2030? I think with fans, there's such a high expectation that if it's not found in their own lifetime or in their own convenience space of time, it must not exist.

There's still a lot of silent lost treasures that just have not been found at all that do exist though. So, with London After Midnight, from a purely realistic standpoint, I've always theorized myself that the film probably does exist in an archive somewhere, but it would probably be a very abridged, foreign condensed version, as opposed to a pristine 35-millimeter print that someone had ripped to safety stock because they knew in the future the film would become the most coveted of all lost films.

So, I do believe it does exist. The whole theory of it existing in a private collection and someone's waiting to claim the newfound copyright on it, I think after December of last year, I think it's finally put that theory to rest. I don't think a collector consciously knows they have a copy of it. So, I think it's lost until found personally, but probably within an archive.

Lost until found. That's a great title for a book. I like that a lot. What do you think of the remake, Mark of the Vampire and in your opinion, what does it tell us about, London After Midnight?

Daniel: Well, Mark of the Vampire came about again, part of the Sound Revolution. It was one of those because it was Chaney and Todd Browning's most successful film for the studio. And Browning was currently, being held on a tight leash by MGM because of his shocking disaster film Freaks, I suppose they were a little bit nervous about giving him the reign to do what he wanted again.

So, looking through their backlog of smash silent hits, London After Midnight seemed the most logical choice to remake, just simply because it was their most, successful collaboration. Had it have been The Unholy Three, I'm sure? Oh no, we already had The Unholy Three, but had it have been another Browning Chaney collaboration, it might have been The Unknown, otherwise. So, I suppose that's why London After Midnight was selected and eventually turned into Mark of the Vampire.

The story does not stray too much from London After Midnight, although they seem to complicate it a little bit more by taking the Burke vampire character and turning it this time into three characters played by three different actors, all of which happened to be in cahoots with one another in trying to solve an old murder mystery.

It's very atmospherical. You can definitely tell it's got Todd Browning signature on it. It's more pondering with this one why they just did not opt to make a legit, supernatural film, rather than go in the pseudo vampire arena that they pursued in 1927. Where audiences had by now become accustomed to the supernatural with Dracula and Frankenstein in 1931, which no longer relied on a detective trying to find out a certain mystery and has to disguise themselves as a monster.

The monster was actually now a real thing in the movies. So I think if Bela Lugosi had been given the chance to have played a real Count Mora as a real vampire, I think it would've been slightly better received as opposed to a dated approach that was clearly now not the fashionable thing to do.

I suppose again, because Browning was treading a very thin line with MGM, I suppose he couldn't really stray too far from the original source material. But I find it a very atmospherical film, although I think the story works better as a silent film than it does as a sound film, because there's a lot of silent scenes in that film, away from owls, hooting and armadillos scurrying about and winds.

But I do think, based on things like The Cat and The Canary from 1927 and The Last Warning, I just think that detective sleuth with horror overtones serves better to the silent world than it does the sound world away from the legit, supernatural.

So, if Chaney hadn't died, do you think he would have played Dracula? Do you think he would've been in Freaks? Would Freaks have been more normalized because it had a big name in it like that?

Daniel: It would've been interesting if Chaney had played in Freaks. I think because Todd Browning used the kinds of individuals that he used for Freaks, maybe Chaney would've, for a change, had been the most outta place.

I do think he might have played Dracula. I think Universal would've had a hell of a time trying to get him over because he had just signed a new contract with MGM, whereas Todd Browning had transferred over to Universal by 1930 and really wanted to make Dracula for many years and probably discussed it with Chaney as far back as 1920.

But certainly MGM would not have permitted Chaney to have gone over to Universal, even for a temporary period, without probably demanding a large piece of the action, in a financial sense, because Universal had acquired the rights to Dracula at this point. And, based on the stage play that had, come out on Broadway, it was probably assured that it was going to be a giant moneymaker, based on the success of the Dracula play.

But because of Chaney's, status as a, I suppose retrospectively now, as a horror actor, he was probably the first person to be considered for that role by Carl Laemmle, senior and Junior for that matter. And Chaney gone by 1930, it did pose a puzzle as to who could take over these kinds of roles.

Chaney was probably the only one to really successfully do it and make the monster an actual box office ingredient more than any other actor at that time, as he did with. Phantom, Blind Bargain and London After Midnight. So, I think to have pursued Chaney for a legit, supernatural film would've had enormous possibilities for Browning and Chaney himself.

You can kind of see a trend, a trilogy forming, with Browning, from London After Midnight, in which he incorporates things he used in Dracula in London After Midnight. So, he kind of had this imagery quite early on. So, to go from – despite it's not in that order -- but to have London After Midnight, Mark of the Vampire, and he also did Dracula, he clearly was obsessed with the story.

And I think Chaney was probably the, best actor for someone like Browning who complimented his way of thinking and approach to things like silence. As opposed to needing dialogue all the time, loud commotions. So, I think they dovetailed each other quite well, and that's why their ten year director actor relationship was as groundbreaking as it was.

If the film does surface, if we find the film, what do you think people, how are they gonna react to the movie when they see it? What do you think? What's gonna be the reaction if it does surface?

Daniel: Well, the lure of London After Midnight, the power in the film is its lost status rather than its widespread availability. I think it could never live up to the expectation that we've built up in our heads over the past 40 to 60 years. It was truly people, fans like Forrest J Ackerman that introduced and reignited the interest in Chaney's career by the late fifties and 1960s. That's when London After Midnight started to make the rounds in rumor, the rumors of a potential print existing, despite the film had not long been destroyed at that point. So, it was always a big mystery. There were always people who wanted to see the film, but with no access to home video, or et cetera, the only way you could probably see the film would've been at the studio who held everything.

And, by the time the TV was coming out, a lot of silent films didn't make it to TV. So again, it has just germinated in people's heads probably in a better form than what they actually remembered. But, the true reality of London After Midnight is one more closer to the ground than it is in it's people are probably expecting to see something very supernatural on par with Dracula, whereas it's more so a Sherlock Holmes story with mild horrorish overtones to it that you can kind of see better examples of later on in Dracula in 1930 and in Mark of the Vampire.

It's a film purely, I think for Lon Chaney fans. For myself, having read everything I can on the film, everything I've seen on the film, I personally love silent, detective stories, all with a touch of horror. So, I personally would know what I am going in to see. I'm not going in to see Chaney battling a Van Helsing like figure and turn to dust at the very end or turning to a bat. I'm going to see a detective melodrama that happens to have what looks like a vampire.

So, it certainly couldn't live up to the expectations in people's minds and it's probably the only film to have had the greatest cheapest, marketing in history, I would think. It's one of those films, if it was discovered, you really would not have to do much marketing to promote it.

It's one of those that in every fanzine, magazine, documentary referenced in pop. It has really marketed itself into becoming what I always call the mascot of the genre. There are other more important lost films that have been lost to us. The main one again, which has been found in its more complete form, was Metropolis, which is a better movie.

But unlike Metropolis, London After Midnight has a lot more famous ingredients to it. It has a very famous director. It has a very famous actor whose process was legendary even during then. And it's actually the only film in which he actually has his make-up case make a cameo appearance by the very end.

And it goes on the thing that everyone in every culture loves, which is the vampirism, the dark tales and folklore. So, when you say it, it just gets your imagination going. Whereas I think if you are watching it, it's probably you'll be looking over the projector to see if something even better is going to happen.

The film had its mixed reactions when it originally came out. People liked it because it gave them that cheap thrill of being a very atmospherical, haunted house with the creepy figures of Chaney walking across those dusty hallways. But then the more important story is a murder mystery.

It's not Dracula, but it has its own things going for it. I always kind of harken it back to the search for the Lochness Monster or Bigfoot. It has more power in your mind than it does in an aquarium or in a zoo. Hearing someone say that they think they saw something moving around in Lochness, but there's no photographic evidence, you just have the oral story, that is much more tangible in a way than actually seeing it in an aquarium where you can take it for granted.

And it's the same with London After Midnight, and I think that's why a lot of hoaxster and pranksters tend to say that they have seen London After Midnight more than any other lost film.

For a film that I would say the majority of the world does not have any frame of reference, that image is iconic in a way that has been, I mean, it at first glance could be Jack the Ripper. Once I locked in on that image, then I started to think, oh, the ghosts in Disney's Haunted Mansion, there's a couple of ghosts that have elements of that. I mean, it was so perfectly done, even though we don't, I bet you nine out ten people don't know the title London After Midnight, but I bet you seven outta ten people know this image.

Daniel: Definitely, it has certainly made its mark on pop culture, again, I think because I think it's such a beautiful, simplistic design. Everything from the simplistically [garbled] to the bulging eyes and the very nice top hat as well, which is in itself today considered a very odd accessory for a grotesque, vampire character.

But it's one of those things that has really carried over. It's influenced what the movies and artists. It was one of the influences for the Babadook creation for that particular monster. It was an influence on the Black Phone. It's just a perfect frame of reference for movie makers and sculptors and artists to keep taking from.

Yep. It's, it'll live long beyond us. Daniel, one last question. I read somewhere or heard somewhere. You're next gonna tackle James Whale, is that correct?

Daniel: James Whale is a subject, again, coming from, I happen to come from the exact same town that he was born and raised in, in Dudley, England. So, it's always been a subject close to home for me, which is quite convenient because I love his movies. So, I'm hoping to eventually, hopefully plan a documentary feature on him, based on a lot of family material in the surrounding areas that I was able to hunt down, and forgotten histories about him and just put it together in some form, hopefully in the future.

Daniel: James Whale is the most known for his work for directing Frankenstein with Boris Karloff in 1931. But he also directed probably some of the most important horror films that have ever existed in the history of motion pictures. The Old Dark House, which can be cited with its very atmospherical, and black comedy tones, The Invisible Man with Claude Rains and Gloria Stewart in 1933. And, the most important one, which is probably the grand jewel in the whole of the Universal Monsters Empire, which is Bride of Frankenstein in 1935, which is the ultimate, example of everything that he had studied, everything that he'd learned with regards to cinema and comedy, life and death, and just making a very delicious cocktail of a movie in all of its black comedy, horrific, forms that we're still asking questions about today.

One of his first films that he did was for Howard Hughes Hell's Angels, in which -- because he'd coming over from theater -- when again, films in America were taken off with the sound revolution. They all of a sudden needed British directors to translate English dialogue better than the actors could convey.

So, James Whale was one of many to be taken over to America when he had a hit play called Journeys End, which became the most successful war play at that point. And he did his own film adaptation of Journeys End. He also did a really remarkable film called Showboat, which is another very iconic film.

And again, someone with James Whale's horror credentials, you just think, how could someone who directed Frankenstein directed Showboat? But, clearly a very, very talented director who clearly could not be pigeonholed at the time as  a strictly horror director, despite it is the horror films in which he is remembered for, understandably so, just because they contain his very individualistic wit and humor and his outlooks on life and politics. And being an openly gay director at the time, he really was a force unto himself. He was a very modern man even then.

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

Peet Gelderblom on "When Forever Dies"

I do want to just spend just a minute or so talking about When Forever Dies. But oh, my goodness Peet. Where did that come from? And how do—I realize you could probably talk for an hour about it? How did you come up with that? And the very process of putting it together is mind blowing. How would you describe it to someone who hasn't seen it?

Peet: Yeah, When Forever Dies is an archival fiction and it cobbles together scraps of existing films to tell an entirely different story of its own. And that is the story of the relationship between a man and a woman, and how this relationship sort of degrades over time. And it's really experimental in the way that it takes shots and bits and scenes from completely different movies and also completely different genres. It can be advertising, documentaries, animation, love silent films, everything really, and it still manages to tell a whole story.

 You know, you say it's experimental, as someone who has seen it, it's experimental for a few minutes. And then you understand the experiment. And it's then a normal narrative, you get it. I mean, you use some interstitial cards that help bring us along.

 Peet: I say that, because I've always believed that experiment in accessibility shouldn't be a mutually exclusive. It's actually, it's a roller coaster ride of a film and it's in a very, in a lot of ways, it's actually very traditional because I'm using the rules of continuity editing, but I’m using the rules against themselves a little bit, because I take from different films, and then I create, you know, sometimes the opposite meaning out of different shots. Yeah, but what gave me the idea was just I saw a way to do this. And it has evolved, of course, with maybe the start of it was the Raising Cain recut, and making movie mashups after that—video essays—but it all comes from my editing background. I've edited lots of trailers and promos for Universal Pictures and Comedy Central and all sorts of TV channels. And then I was also able to take from different series and different films, you know, put different shots together and create this new through line that didn't exist before and I always enjoyed doing that and I just thought, wouldn't it be really cool to try and do this for a whole feature film?

As it turns out, it was really cool. You know, we recently had on the podcast an editor named Roger Nygard, and Roger edits, Larry David's show Curb Your Enthusiasm, he edited Veep and he's a filmmaker like you. He directs and he edits and he put he also makes his living as an editor. And he said that the thing that taught him the most about filmmaking and about editing was editing promos, where you had a you know, you had to do it all in 15 seconds. And he said you'd learn the most about filmmaking when you have that sort of requirement to work within those boundaries and still tell a story.

 Peet: Yeah, it's the shortest way to tell a story and you really need or you really learn about what things what elements you really need to make something happening on the screen.

With When Forever Dies what's the music on that post-scored or where did you edit to the music? I couldn't really tell, it was all seems so seamless.

Peet: Wow, thank you. Well, it's a little bit of both. I decided I wanted to have a sort of backbone because there was no backbone besides the story that I had made up. So, I actually edited everything on music. Some of the music I made myself but there's also a lot of Creative Commons music and music that was replaced later on by something that our composer did.

Well, it all feels of a piece. It's all just together in perfect. So, I will definitely recommend to listeners that when it becomes available, When Forever Dies is...

Peet: Yeah, it had a very good festival run and then one audience award in Colombia. We're looking into, you know, other, yeah, we're looking into how it could be distributed right now. But obviously it's a weird film. It's difficult to place it.

Yeah, it is. It's different. But then once you get the rhythm of it, you're totally in and you get it.

Peet: Yeah, that's also been my experience with that audience really, audiences really love it when they see it. But I think the trick is to how do you get them in the film theater.

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

Comedian Wayne Federman of the history of stand-up comedy albums

John: I want to just kind of start at the beginning, if you have any idea who performed or produced or released the very first quote, unquote stand-up comedy album?

Wayne: The first album recorded, there's some controversy about it, but it's going to be either Redd Foxx’s Laugh of the Party, Volume 1, 1956. But in 1955, there was an album of Mort Sahl recorded, but it wasn't released until 1960, which was after he had already released another album. And it's a very tough question and a terrible answer but it would be probably those two guys, I would say, are in the running for the first comedy album would be Redd Foxx, and Mort Sahl.

John: Okay and the genre that Redd would slip into would be a genre that I didn't really follow that much, which was the party album.

Wayne: Correct. The party album concept was that these were albums that exactly as described, would be listened to, at a party, usually an adult party. So, it tended to have more what we would call baudy humor, it wouldn't be explicit, the way people speak now on comedy albums and in life. But at that time, it was something and these are usually all on minor labels. That because people could still get in trouble for swearing because of something called Community Standards back then. So, a lot of times in the record store—when there were record stores—you would have to ask for it specifically, it wouldn't be like up in the counter. It wouldn't be in this displayed, it would be like, do you have the new, let's say Rusty Warren album. Yes, she was like a singer who also did sort of baudy songs and told sort of jokes about, you know, breasts and guys getting laid and things like that. There was a number of them.

John: Knockers Up being the one I've ran across the most.

Wayne: Sold millions of copies, millions of copies.

[Music]

John: Just hard to imagine, these days, a party where the entertainment was you all sat around and listened to a record album. It’s quaint.

Wayne: Exactly. But if you think about it, the power of the comedy album was in the fact that for the first time you were transported to these adult nightclubs, or coffee houses, or theaters, where stand-up comedy was being performed. Before then you would never hear anything like that. You heard, there was obviously comedy records, but they were usually produced in a studio. So, this was all something very new.

John: And this was an outgrowth of the sort of explosion of nightclubs?

Wayne: It was a convergence of a number of things. Because if you think of those first big breakout albums, which was of course, the Redd Foxx, and then Mort Saul, and then Shelley Berman, and then a guy named Bob Newhart, those were kind of like the first ones. So, those were all comedians still trying to break through. This wasn't like big Jimmy Durrante, or Milton Berle or Bob Hope, or any of the big nightclub headliners weren't putting out their records. As a matter of fact, there was a big divide between the older generation, or let me put it this way, maybe the less established generation, and the established guys because they were making you know, this is when Vegas started hitting, so these guys, it's like, yeah, Alan King was making, whatever, 15 grand a week or 20 grand a week and he was like, “why should I put my act out for $1.98?” It just didn't make any sense, not realizing the transformative power of like, oh, my God, we get to go to a nightclub here in our living room in Des Moines, but also the promotional value of those albums. So, there was a real divide about whether to put this stuff out or not.

John: So, would the analog be comedians today doing podcasts in order to build up their audience so when they do go on the...

Wayne: Very similar. Yes, that's a great analogy. Great analogy about stand ups and technology.

John: It's just a way to get your brand out there so that there is an audience when you show up in town.

Wayne: 100%. Yes. You got that.

John: At that point with Mort Sahl, he is a contemporary at that point with Lenny Bruce. They're running kind of on the same track, right?

Wayne: They're at the same time. Lenny Bruce is not as successful as Mort Sahl was at this time. Like you said, Mort Sahl started touring with a jazz band, the Dave Brubeck Trio or whatever that was and then he also got fame for kind of doing comedy in this new style, where as Lenny Bruce was still, he was playing strip clubs in Los Angeles. So, Lenny Bruce was primarily a Los Angeles act. It's a little later, while Mort Sahl was a little more famous. And Mort Sahl was really championed by local San Francisco writers at the papers and he just became a thing. It just became like, oh, you don't have to be in a tuxedo. You don't have to be doing mother-in-law jokes. You don't have to be doing any of these things that people would see in Vegas, like, oh, this is powerful, very powerful.

[Skit Audio]

John: That's a real shift from the Catskill comic where they were all named Jackie and they kind of trade routines  .

Wayne: Yes, there was. There was a number. There were some Mortys. There was some Buddys. It wasn't all Jackie's. But they all had that vibe, too. Yes.

John: I know at the beginning of Broadway Danny Rose when the comics are sitting in The Carnegie Deli and one of my favorite comics, Corbett Monica, talking and he's telling about a joke that he tells that died the other night.

[Skit Audio]

John: And there was this understanding, I thought, that the jokes were kind of interchangeable and you would—like a magician nowadays, if the two magicians are on the same show, they'll talk beforehand about we don't want to overlap tricks—and comics, I thought they used to have that same sort of discussion. They're both on the bill, so I'm going to do this some of you that you're not going to do this. Was it true that they just sort of traded stuff back and forth and it wasn't that personal comedy that Mort Sahl sort of...

Wayne: First, I get that as a general rule that is absolutely correct. That is absolutely correct. There were a number of Catskill comedians that did share material and it was all kind of the same persona. Like, I don't know if it was Morty Gunty or was that different than Corbett Monica, or Freddie Roman or all of those guys.

Yeah, but looking back, I feel like that's a little bit of a generalization, because certainly, there were comedians that were very creative. Like, there was a radio comedian called Fred Allen, who had a very popular show, and his act was not at all interchangeable with what Jack Benny was doing on stage, or even with Bob Hope was doing, or even what there was a comedian named Jean Carroll, who worked in New York City, even what she was doing or what Moms Mabley was doing. So, I think it's a little bit of a misnomer that every comedian before Mort Sahl an interchangeable act, wore a jacket and did mother-in-law jokes. But that did exist.

John: Getting back to Bob Newhart, I remember you talking on the podcast, that when he recorded his first album, that was the first time he had worked in a nightclub, is that right?

Wayne: That is correct.

John: But up until that point, he had just been, I mean, he must have been doing it.

Wayne: He was doing it but it was more he was doing it with his radio buddies. So, these were like little radio skits they would do or he would do when it's friend’s local radio show in Chicago. So, there were recordings of it that that guy sent to, I think it was Warner Brothers Records and they were like, yeah, oh, look, Mort Sahl has this hit album recorded at this little room. And then Shelley Berman based on Mort Sahl's recommendation, he has this crazy hit album also. You know, those are both on Verve Records, which was kind of a jazz label and Warner Brothers like, “we're a big company, let's get on this. Let's jump on this bandwagon.”

And so it was just a perfect timing and they sent him down to Houston, Texas to a place called The Tidelands and it's incredible, because he wasn't even, he wasn't the headliner. He was like opening for a singer or something. It's almost, it's mind blowing, because the whole thing about stand-up comedy, at least when I was starting was, “oh, it's gonna take you five years just to find your voice or find your own point of view or your own rhythm,” and now here was this guy right out of the gate recording an album that dominates the charts in such a powerful way that album wins the Record of the Year, beating out like Frank Sinatra, beating out the music acts, that's how big that album was.

[Skit Audio]

Wayne: Can I also tell you a little bit of trivia? I mean, I know you know it from the podcast but not only does that album win the Record of the year and Bob Newhart wins Best New Artist. But the album was so popular that he rushed out another album, The Buttoned-Down Mind Strikes Back, and that album won Best Comedy Album the same year. There's been nothing close to it. The only thing close was like when Chappelle put out four Netflix specials in one year, like there would have been nothing like that.

John: And that's the second album is pretty darn good.

Wayne: It is good. It is pretty good.

John: Maybe another one that I'm gonna pull up that I know Harry would have opened for would be a guy named Woody Woodbury.

Wayne: Yes, out of Florida.

 John: I found a number of his albums.

Wayne : They were huge sellers. I feel like he straddled the world between the party record and the traditional comedy record. Would you agree with that?

John: I would totally agree that yes, absolutely agree. That was his market.

Wayne: He has his own television show as well. He had a talk show that was sort of based on The Tonight Show a little bit like that version. And, he was definitely a huge player in early 60s stand-up comedy album boom.

[Skit Audio]

John: In the early 60s, you got Ed Sullivan’s Toast of the Town, The Ed Sullivan Show, right? How did the Ed Sullivan show help stand-up comics, and did their albums get them on The Ed Sullivan Show? Was there any connection between the two?

Wayne: Ed Sullivan is really important in the history of the stand-up comedian because he had this very popular show on Sunday night at eight o'clock on CBS. There was this family show that was—despite his limitations as a host and as a personality—it was beloved by the United States. He loved stand-up comics and almost every show had at least one sometimes two, sometimes two comics and a ventriloquist. There there was a lot of work for stand-up comedians, and this was the first time like you really saw a stand-up kind of doing their act, even though it was in obviously this theater, so it's not quite in the nightclub. But you would see that and it definitely helped comedians gets bookings in like Miami Beach or the Catskill Mountains or in New York at these big theaters that were called presentation houses. That's like the Roxy or Lowe's or The Paramount. These are big multi thousand seat theaters.

 Yeah, so Sullivan was the nightclub comic’s dream booking. And then when the album's came along, and he this is an interesting, like, again, there was a generational divide we talked about earlier. This is really where it hit because these new wave comedians, they call it, they despite them being a little more intellectual than the Catskill guys that they were still trying to get on Ed Sullivan Show. So, they would use an album to get there as opposed to a booking at let's say, the Latin Quarter or the Copa or so wherever, you know, Sullivan and his talent bookers would hang out in New York. So, yeah, he had all those guys all on. Now, I know a lot of comedians didn't like doing that show because right before they would go on, they would be like, oh, you can only do four tonight as opposed to the seven. It usually was a cutting situation. It's interesting.

John: What was the first comedy stand-up album that you ever got?

Wayne: It certainly wasn't The Bob Newhart. It wasn't any of those because I'm a little younger. I believe it was an album called Bill Cosby Is A Very Funny Fella, Right? Yes, Noah was his big breakout thing and I guess he had just done the Tonight Show and yes, I had that album as a kid. But it was more of the family had the album and I listened to it. But I do remember my uncle had an early Jackie Mason album that like, I'm the greatest comedian in the world or something like that, like, so I heard that as well. But Bill Cosby was very big in my house. So, it's hard to talk about him now because he's in jail.

John: So, a couple more personal questions...

Wayne: Anything! You got me. I'm here.

John: A favorite album or performer from that era of 60s and 70s.

Wayne: I really liked those George Carlin albums, but I have to say I felt there was a rerelease of Woody Allen's three Copix albums. I didn't have any of those that was just called The Nightclub Years. Yeah, that was I would say that was the main one that I was like, oh, this is insanely good. I really liked those Carlin albums. I even listened to those Richard Pryor ones that had the N word in the title. So thank you for asking. Yes, I would say those are the albums that I really fascinated me, but I listened to the you know, oh, let me give me another one. I thought the there was a Flip Wilson album that I also enjoyed very much that had the ugly baby routine on it.

John: Geraldine was on it, too?

Wayne: I think he'd be. I mean, he would always do a Geraldine type voice. There was a routine I remember used to do about Christopher Columbus and so Queen, the Queen of Spanish, Queen Isabel, that was in the Geraldine voice. It was that voice, but it was so great.

[Skit Audio]

Wayne: Can we go back really quickly?

John: Sure.

Wayne: Remember, I said that I love that Woody Allen album and that Shelley Berman album obviously albums were incredible. Those were all because those guys had seen more Mort Sahl perform and were like, “oh, I could do this is possible and stand up like this level of an intimate, not hyper performative style.” So, both of those guys were inspired to get into the stand-up game because of Mort Sahl.

Dying to make a feature? Learn from the pros!

"We never put out an actual textbook for the Corman School of Filmmaking, but if we did, it would be Fast, Cheap and Under Control." 
Roger Corman, Producer

★★★★★

It’s like taking a Master Class in moviemaking…all in one book!

  • Jonathan Demme: The value of cameos

  • John Sayles: Writing to your resources

  • Peter Bogdanovich: Long, continuous takes

  • John Cassavetes: Re-Shoots

  • Steven Soderbergh: Rehearsals

  • George Romero: Casting

  • Kevin Smith: Skipping film school

  • Jon Favreau: Creating an emotional connection

  • Richard Linklater: Poverty breeds creativity

  • David Lynch: Kill your darlings

  • Ron Howard: Pre-production planning

  • John Carpenter: Going low-tech

  • Robert Rodriguez: Sound thinking

And more!

Write Your Screenplay with the Help of Top Screenwriters!

It’s like taking a Master Class in screenwriting … all in one book!

Discover the pitfalls of writing to fit a budget from screenwriters who have successfully navigated these waters already. Learn from their mistakes and improve your script with their expert advice.

"I wish I'd read this book before I made Re-Animator."
Stuart Gordon, Director, Re-Animator, Castle Freak, From Beyond

John Gaspard has directed half a dozen low-budget features, as well as written for TV, movies, novels and the stage.

The book covers (among other topics):

  • Academy-Award Winner Dan Futterman (“Capote”) on writing real stories

  • Tom DiCillio (“Living In Oblivion”) on turning a short into a feature

  • Kasi Lemmons (“Eve’s Bayou”) on writing for a different time period

  • George Romero (“Martin”) on writing horror on a budget

  • Rebecca Miller (“Personal Velocity”) on adapting short stories

  • Stuart Gordon (“Re-Animator”) on adaptations

  • Academy-Award Nominee Whit Stillman (“Metropolitan”) on cheap ways to make it look expensive

  • Miranda July (“Me and You and Everyone We Know”) on making your writing spontaneous

  • Alex Cox (“Repo Man”) on scaling the script to meet a budget

  • Joan Micklin Silver (“Hester Street”) on writing history on a budget

  • Bob Clark (“Children Shouldn’t Play with Dead Things”) on mixing humor and horror

  • Amy Holden Jones (“Love Letters”) on writing romance on a budget

  • Henry Jaglom (“Venice/Venice”) on mixing improvisation with scripting

  • L.M. Kit Carson (“Paris, Texas”) on re-writing while shooting

  • Academy-Award Winner Kenneth Lonergan (“You Can Count on Me”) on script editing

  • Roger Nygard (“Suckers”) on mixing genres

This is the book for anyone who’s serious about writing a screenplay that can get produced! 

A Couple of Groucho Sitting Around Chatting ...

JOHN

Let's go back to the beginning. We'll start with Noah and then go to Jim. What's your earliest memory of Groucho Marx or the Marx Brothers?

 

NOAH

Well, for me, it started in a kind of roundabout way, when I was a very little kid. Before I could even read, I was really interested in books. And I had my collection of Dr. Seuss, and all the books that would be read to me. But what I really liked to do was go downstairs where my parents had, in the living room, bookshelves lining the walls. And their books were really interesting to me. I just knew there were secrets there, you know?

They had like big art books and books of poetry and maybe my first experiences with words were looking at the spines of the books in the living room. And one of the books they happen to have was then fairly recent book, Joe Adamson's Groucho, Harpo, Chico and Sometimes Zeppo, which is, I think most Marx Brothers fans would say it's the best loved book about them, certainly and I think the best written.

That book came out in 1973. So, it's 50 years old this year and for some reason, as a tiny kid, that was a book that I took off the shelf. It was interesting that it had silver lettering on the spine and little icons, a harp, and what I would come later to recognize as a Chico hat. “Oh, look, this is interesting.” And I started looking through it, and I saw all these pictures. And the photographs of the Marx Brothers were just something to grapple with and it seemed a little familiar to me. My world was the Muppets and Dr. Seuss and Maurice Sendak. The Marx Brothers appeared in these photographs, like there was some continuity there and I also found them a little scary. Groucho in particular, that's quite a face for a child to reckon with.

So, that was a book that I looked at a lot when I was just little more than a baby. I wouldn't really see the Marx Brothers in their movies until I was 12. Partly that's because, I'm just old enough to have had a childhood where it wasn't so easy to find old movies. And I sort of had to wait for home video to come along. And when it first came along, it's not like all 13 Marx brothers’ movies were at the local Blockbuster.

It was that that journey, that constant searching for things that characterized life in the analog world. So, it was very gradual in between those two times.

Rather than blow your whole episode on this answer: in between the very little boy looking at pictures in Joe Adamson's book, and the 12-year-old finally, like seeing Duck Soup, and a Night at the Opera on video, there were many years where the Marx Brothers always seemed to be right around the corner. I would encounter them in Mad Magazine, or adults I knew might refer to them. And I sort of came to understand that the nose and moustache and glasses had something to do with Groucho. I was aware of them as a kind of vapor increasingly during those, I guess, nine or ten years between discovering the book and seeing the films.

 

JOHN

Jim, how about you? Where did you first encounter them?

 

JIM

I was an enormous and still am a Laurel and Hardy fan. There was a local television show here in the Twin Cities where I live on Sunday mornings, hosted by a former television child's television host named John Gallos who played Clancy the Cop. And so I came to the Marx Brothers, kind of grudgingly because I was such an enormous and still am Laurel and Hardy fan, that I poo pooed the Marx Brothers for many, many years. I started watching Laurel and Hardy as a little kid. I mean, 7, 8, 9 years old. Every Sunday morning, I would rush home from church and plop down in front of the TV to watch Laurel and Hardy. They were sort of my comedic touchstones, if you will. And then the Marx Brothers were kind of off to the side for me. And I went to the Uptown Theater, John, here in the Minneapolis area …

 

JOHN

You crossed the river from St. Paul and came to Minneapolis, you must have really been interested.

 

JIM

Oh, I only go across the river for work. This was a point where I was not working yet. And I saw a Night at the Opera and you know, was convulsed and then devoured everything I could get my hands on after that. The Marx Brothers were eye opening for me, just in terms of oh my gosh, this whole thing is so different. I was reading in your book that Frank Ferrante said “I was raised by Catholic nuns and I wanted to sort of do to the Catholic nuns would Groucho would do to Margaret Dumont.” And I was like, well, that's exactly right. Because I too was raised by Catholic nuns, and that sort of energy was really attractive to me as a sophomore in high school. And so I fell in love with them. And then, you know, anything I could get my hands on, I watched and read and loved them to this day. I still love Laurel and Hardy quite a bit too.

 

JOHN

Okay. Noah, this is just my own experience and I'm wondering if you guys have had the same thing: that entering the world of the Marx Brothers was actually a gateway to a whole bunch of other interesting stuff. I mean, you get into the Algonquin table, you get Benchley, and Perlman and into other plays of Kaufman. And you know, you're reading Moss Hart, and all sudden you look at the New Yorker, because, you know, he was there. I mean, did you find that it sort of was a spider web?

 

NOAH

No doubt about it. Yeah, that's very true. It’s learning about them biographically and the times they lived in, the circles they traveled in; and partly it's in order to understand the references in their films. That's one of the great things about sophisticated verbal comedy: it's an education, and particularly if you're a kid. So, yes, through comedy and show business in general and the Marx Brothers in particular, I learned, I hesitate to say this, but probably just about everything else I know from following tributaries from the Marx Brothers.

 

JOHN

Do you remember the first time you performed as Groucho?

 

NOAH

The first time I played Groucho in front of an audience was in a talent show, a school talent show in, I think seventh grade. I performed with my brother and sister as Harpo and Chico. They're both a little younger than me and by the time we became the Marx Brothers, they were so accustomed to involuntary service in my stock company. They were veterans by that time, they had done living room productions of Fiddler on the Roof where they had to play everyone but Tevya. And we did the contract routine from A Night at the Opera, with a little bit of Harpo stuff thrown in.

 

JOHN

Okay. Fantastic. Jim, how about you: first time as Groucho in front of an audience?

 

JIM

The first time in front of an audience as Groucho was really the first time I played Groucho. Just as I have a deep and abiding love and respect for the art of magic (and want to see it, want to read about it), I don't want to perform it. Because it is a thing in to its unto itself and if you do it poorly, it's horrible. So, I love to see it. I just don't love to perform it. And I felt the same way about Groucho.

So, I went kind of kicking and screaming, to a staged reading of The Coconuts that Illusion Theater did. We really just carried our scripts because there was just a couple three rehearsals, but we read the whole thing and sang some of the stuff that was in it. And then that morphed from there into an actual production of The Coconuts and we did it both at the illusion theater in Minneapolis, and then it moved to the Fitzgerald Theater in St. Paul. When the Marx Brothers performed there, I think it was called The World theatre. So, I love that kind of thing. I love standing where Wyatt Earp stood or standing where William Shakespeare stood. And so, to be doing a play that Groucho did on a stage that Groucho did it. I should have gotten out of the business right then. I should have said it, I've done it. What’s left?

 

JOHN

Excellent stories. Noah, have you ever done The Coconuts or Animal Crackers?

 

NOAH

I haven't done The Coconuts. I would love to. Animal Crackers …  One of the subsequent childhood Groucho appearances was when I was 14 years old. I had a relationship with this community theater. At this point, I was living in South Florida. I spent the first part of my life in Connecticut, and then lived in South Florida when I was a teenager and New York since I grew up. And this was in the Florida years. There was a local theater in a town called Coral Springs, it's not there anymore, but it was called Opus Playhouse. And it was a great place that helped me a lot and gave me a chance to put on shows and learn how to do things. And I just wanted to do Animal Crackers. So, I did a bootleg production completely unauthorized. I didn't even have the script. I just wrote the movie down line by line to have a script of Animal Crackers. And so I've sort of done it. But you know, I really shouldn't put that on my resume as I was 14 and...

 

JIM

It counts for me. Anybody who's willing, as a 14-year-old, to go line by line through a movie and write it down, you did the show in my book.

 

NOAH

That just shows the desperate measures we had to take in those days. There was no internet. Little kids writing down movies, you know?

 

JIM

Exactly.

 

JOHN

It's charming. It's absolutely charming. So, what is it Noah that draws you to play Groucho? What is it about that guy?

 

NOAH

Yeah, what is it? I know, it's funny. ‘What is it about Groucho’ is a question we can grapple with forever, even aside from the question of why try to be him? I think one thing that definitely true is that as soon as I saw the Marx Brothers and heard his voice and watched him moving around and interacting, the urge to be him, or at least to behave like him, was immediate. I mean, it was right there. Now, I was already a kid who was a little ham and a performer and would be inclined to find my role in anything, anyway.

But nothing, no character other than myself, ever grabbed me the way Groucho did or ever has, really. And I think part of it is what you mentioned, Jim, that Frank Ferrante has said, part of it is the instinct to rebel against authority. And that's unquestionably part of the Marx Brothers act, and a big part of the Marx Brothers appeal I think to kids.

But I think it's a little more like watching a great violin player and deciding you want to play the violin. It just seemed to me that, as far as embodying a character and getting laughs and singing songs, nobody ever did it like him. Nobody ever seemed to be speaking directly to my sense of humor and my sensibility. I just wanted to talk in that voice. I wanted to play that instrument.

 

JOHN

Jim, what about you?

 

JIM

Nothing. Really, truthfully, I did not want to do it. I still don't want to do it. But I would do it again tomorrow, if somebody asked.

I think trying to find your way to entertain an audience through somebody else is tricky for me. I'm better at playing me than I am at playing anybody else. And so the desire to play Groucho, I have sort of put it inside me, and I have an eye on it all the time. I use Groucho’s sensibility without the grease paint, and I'd like to believe that I do. I'm certainly not in Groucho’s league.

Laurence Olivier said it: steal from everybody, and no one will know. And so I have, but the desire to put on the grease paint and wear the frock coat is akin to me saying, I want to do a magic show. I just I love to go to a magic show. I love to watch a Marx Brothers movie. But I'm really kicking and screaming to play him again, because the mantle is so huge and heavy and I don't think that I'm particularly serviceable as Groucho

It wasn't until we were halfway through the run of The Coconuts when a light bulb went off in the dressing room, while I was putting on the makeup: there's a difference between being faithful to the script of The Coconuts and what we learned, and being faithful to the Marx Brothers sensibilities, if that makes sense. There's the letter of the law versus the spirit of the law.

About halfway through that run, I started doing things that I felt were more attune to the spirit of the Marx Brothers, then the letter of the script. So, I was calling other actors onto the stage. I was going out into the audience, I took a guy out and put him in a cab one night. That sort of anarchy that people talk about when you read about the Marx Brothers in their heyday, about Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin in their heyday: I don't know what's going to happen and I want to be there because of that.

And for all I know, it was the exact same show night after night after night, and they just gave the impression that it was crazy. But that idea for me still percolates. This the idea of, am I creating a museum piece or am I trying to, in some way, channel that anarchy for an audience? The other show that I do that has some relevance here is we do a production of It's a Wonderful Life, at Christmas time, as a live radio play. And that too: what am I doing? Are we trying to capture the movie or are we creating something different? So, finding that sort of craziness is what I was most intrigued by and still am.

 

NOAH

There's not a lot of roles like that. If you're playing one of the Marx Brothers in Coconuts or Animal Crackers, or I'll Say She Is, it's not the same as playing Groucho Marx in a biographical piece about his life. Nor is it like playing Sherlock Holmes, a very familiar character, where there is room to make it your own. I suppose people have done that with Groucho, too. But generally, if you're in a production of one of the Marx Brothers shows, the assignment is to try to make the audience feel like, if they squint, maybe they're watching the Marx Brothers.

 

JOHN

Noah, when you tackled the formidable and important task of recreating, resurrecting, bringing back to life, I'll Say She Is, were you having that same sort of thing Jim was talking about? Balancing the reality of what may have happened against you don't really know for sure and the spirit of it? How did you approach it? But first, why did you pick that show? And then how did you bring it back to life?

 

JIM

Can I back up? Because the three of us at this table are enormous Marx Brothers fans. So, if you say I'll Say She Is, we have a frame of reference. But people listening to this may go, ‘what the hell is I'll Say She Is?’ So, can you start with that? Can you start with what is I'll Say She Is and how did you come to it, because I think for the layman who's not a huge Marx Brothers fan, they don't even know what we're talking about.

 

NOAH

Yes, absolutely. In a nutshell, the Marx Brothers, although primarily remembered for their movies, were already halfway through their career by the time they ever made a film. Most of their lives were spent on stage. They had a long period in vaudeville, and then in the 20s, they became Broadway stars. And that was really the beginning of the Marx Brothers as phenomenon we would recognize. They did three Broadway musicals. The first was I'll Say She Is, a thinly plotted revue, and the second was The Coconuts, and the third was Animal Crackers. By the time they were making talkies, they had these two very prestigious vehicles, Coconuts, and Animal Crackers, written by George S. Kaufman and Morrie Riskin, with scores by accomplished composers, Irving Berlin and Kalmer and Ruby. And there was no question but that those would be the first two films.

And as a result, I'll Say She Is just kind of faded into history. It was the show they'd never made it into a movie and no script survived or at least no complete, intact script survived. So, if you were a kid like all the Marx maniacs out there, reading every book you can get your hands on and learning everything you could about the Marx Brothers, I'll Say She Is just had a sort of intrigue about it. What was that show?

Everyone knew from those books that the highlight of the show was the Napoleon scene in which Groucho played Napoleon and the other brothers played the various consorts of Josephine, who are always materializing every time he turns his back. And that scene was touted as like, that's really the arrival of the Marx Brothers. That was the essence of them, before they ever met George S. Kaufman. It’s just such a tantalizing thing if you love them.

I think—because I love the theater and I love musical theater—a lot of my other interests are also right in the bullseye of I'll Say She Is: Broadway, New York City history. I'm a big fan of the culture of the Jazz Age in the 1920s. And this was just so appealing to me. So, every time a new book about the Marx Brothers would fall into my hands, the first thing I would do is look up I'll Say She Is in the index and read all the associated stuff first. I just had a little obsession about it.

In The Marx Brothers Scrapbook, which is a book I'm sure familiar to both of you and many of the fans, that book reprints the entire opening night program from I'll Say She Is on Broadway. When I was 12 years old, I took that book to the library and photocopied it, and cut out the pages, and made myself a little program so that I could pretend that I had seen I'll Say She Is.

Fast forward many years, and I'm an adult doing theater in New York. My wife and collaborator, Amanda Sisk and I were doing political satires, writing these musicals that would be ripped from the headlines. And we did that for a long time before realizing that the time it takes to develop a musical is too long for topical material, so we could never really perfect our work. And we decided to stop doing those shows, which were a bit of a dead end for us creatively. And I found myself after many years of doing one thing trying to figure out, well, what's my thing going to be now?

And I think it was probably inevitable that I would just sort of go home to the Marx Brothers. ‘Well, let's do a Marx Brothers show. I haven't done that in a while, you know?’ I don't know, it seems a little bit silly to call something so unlikely, inevitable, but I just think I was hurtling toward it from the day I picked up Adamson's book when I was three or four years old.

 

JIM

It had to have been both a joyful and frustrating experiences as you tried to recreate something that doesn't exist. The Napoleon sketch: we did a version of that Napoleon sketch. The only line I can remember from that Napoleon sketch was, “I'll be in Paris tomorrow, don't wash.” That's the only line I can remember from the entire show. I think of that. Was it super fun or was it super frustrating? Or was there a combo? What was that like?

 

NOAH

It was fun. I mean, writing is always a combination of both of those things. Stephen Sondheim once called it agonizing fun. That's kind of what almost any writing process is. This one, I wouldn't have taken on the idea of doing I'll Say She Is if enough of it didn't survive and how much of it seemed to have survived. Before my research, I think what I was really thinking is that I would maybe try to write a book about I'll Say She Is, and maybe figure out some way to do the Napoleon scene on stage.

But realizing that it could be a show again, that happened kind of slowly as material started to accumulate. Yes, the Napoleon scene has survived and that's been known for a long time. Also, the first scene of I'll Say She Is is one that's familiar to Marx Brothers fans, because it was an old vaudeville piece that they filmed in 1931. The theatrical agency scene.

 

[Audio from the Clip]

 

NOAH

So, those are two big pieces of material were a given. And then as for the rest of it, I became aware, by relying on the work of other researchers, that there was a type script I'll Say She Is at the Library of Congress. Also, another slightly different one at the American Musical Theatre Institute run by Miles Kruger. And I was able to get my hands on the type script.

Now it is on one hand, it's the script of I'll Say She Is. That isn't quite that what it is, though. It’s a 30-page document that they went into rehearsal with. And, you know, going into rehearsal with the Marx Brothers, it's an outline with dialogue. It's what we would now refer to as a treatment. and there is some dialogue in it, some of which is recognizable from later Marx Brothers projects. Some of it is very sketchy.

Of course, almost everything Harpo does is merely indicated: stage directions like, Harpo business, or sometimes, business with hat. But this provided something like 20% of the dialogue and the continuity for I'll Say She Is. There were no lyrics in it, but it did specify where the songs would fall.

So, my first attempt to write a script for this was a combination of material from that type script and things learned from the playbill, from reading every account of I'll Say She Is I could find in books and interviews. And then I started to search old newspaper archives, which was just getting easier to do at this time. I was embarking on this sort of major I'll Say She Is research period around 2010 and it was just starting to be possible to read decades worth of old newspapers on the internet. It's gotten much easier since then.

So, by reading every review I could find from every city I'll Say She Is had played in 1923, and 1924, and 1925, I started to realize there's material here. There's reviews that quote dialogue or describe scenes that aren't in the type script and that I didn't know about before and maybe nobody did (unless they've read this copy of the New York Clipper from 1924).

And some of the songs from the original I'll Say She Is were published in 1924 and it was fairly easy to get my hands on those. But that represented only about half the score, maybe a third of the score. A number of the original songs remain missing. And of those, I did manage to find a couple. And to fill in the gaps, I found other songs written by the same people. Will Johnstone was the lyricist (Marx Brothers fans will know him as a screenwriter on some of their later films) and his brother Tom Johnstone wrote the music. Well, the Johnstones also wrote six or seven other Broadway shows during the same period. So, I was able to find some of those songs and interpolate them and do a sort of general polish on the lyrics on the surviving lyrics.

When I was bringing in other songs, sometimes I would write the lyrics. I know there was a song here, and I know what it was about. So, I'll write a lyric about that and whenever I had to do that kind of thing, where I would invent something to fill a gap, I would always try to do it very conscientiously, by relying on what I knew about the Marx Brothers act up to 1924. And also by immersing myself in Will Johnstone's writing. He's an interesting, very unsung artist too; he was a very prolific newspaper writer and cartoonist and did a little bit of everything. So, by reading everything I could get my hands on by Johnstone, it made it a little easier to write what he would have written for them.

 

JOHN

That's just fascinating.

 

JIM

It really is. The whole thing to me is it's so titillating and so exciting that even though I say I never really want to do Groucho ever again, if you said, I'm gonna send you a copy of I'll Say She Is, I produced that. I'd be in that. I put that up right now.

 

NOAH

It could happen, Jim.

I think what you said earlier, Jim, about playing Groucho, you feel like there's this mantle of greatness that is, is impossible to live up to. I feel that way too. It is impossible. I mean, playing Groucho on stage, you're kind of making a deal with the audience, like, ‘Hey, we both know, I'm not him. I'm not. Nobody will ever be that good at doing that. But if you'll meet me in the middle, I think I can fool you for a minute.’

It becomes a sense of responsibility. And it's the same thing with reviving, I'll Say She Is. If we're gonna put that title on a marquee, and charge people money to see it, boy, this better be the very best we can do.

 

JOHN

So, once you started reconstructing I'll Say She Is, were you always planning on putting it on its feet?

 

NOAH

Well, probably, the answer is definitely yes. I think the question is, would I have admitted it to myself early on? I do remember nibbling around the edges of it for a while before looking at squarely in the face and saying, ‘We have to do this.’ We have to do this on stage for that very reason: because it is so daunting. It’s daunting to produce a big musical, even without all the baggage and the history and responsibility of the Marx Brothers and I'll Say She Is.

 

JIM

I looked at the pictures of your production and was flabbergasted at the cast and how big the cast is, and the costumes for the cast. It was like, this is a big deal.

 

NOAH

One thing that was very lucky—because of the nature of the project, and because it's so interesting and historical—it attracted a lot of really talented people, all of whom worked for much less than they deserved. We have done it twice at this point: the Fringe Festival production in 2014 was the first, full staging and the book Give Me a Thrill is current through that production.

Then in 2016, we did an Off-Broadway production, which was larger and fuller and ran longer and was even more fully realized. There will be a new edition of a book covering that production. But even that is now some years ago.

There is in the future, I think for an even bigger, even more 1924-faithful I'll Say She Is. And I also think there may be a lightweight version of I'll Say She Is. I think we may experiment with that, saying, ‘Oh, okay, it's a 1920s revue. It has a line of chorus girls. It's spectacular. But what if we did to it what Marx Brothers fans often want to do to the film's and just boiled it down to just the Marx Brothers gold and do an I'll Say She Is Redux?’ There two licensable versions of Animal Crackers. There’s a small cast multiple role kind of version, and then there's the big full musical.

 

JOHN

It’s like the Teeny Sweeney. The idea of you offering and creating a version that would be a little easier for most theaters to do. I think is really a smart idea.

 

JIM

Knowing the Marx Brothers, and knowing Coconuts and Animal Crackers, because of course, they're enshrined in celluloid and we can look at them whenever we want. There's a story to both of those things, loose as it may be. I wouldn't say either The Coconuts or Animal Crackers were a revue. Is the same true of I'll Say She Is? Is it a revue where we're just going from sketch to sketch to sketch or song to song to sketch, and they're not connected by a through line the way Coconuts or Animal Crackers are?

 

NOAH

It's an interesting question and the answer is kind of both. One thing that has happened is I think the word revue is now understood more narrowly than it was in the Marx Brothers day. When we use the word revue now, we generally mean exactly what you're describing: a variety kind of evening, with a series of unrelated sketches or songs.

But the truth is in the 1920s, particularly, revues tended to have either thin plots or themes that tied them together. And that's exactly what distinguished a Broadway review or what would have been called rather snootily, a legitimate revue. That's what distinguishes it from vaudeville, which really was one act after another and what the third on the bill does on stage has nothing to do with the content of what was second on the bill.

A lot of these Broadway revues, including the Ziegfeld Follies, they would be built on themes or plots. An example would be As Thousands Cheer, Irving Berlin's famous revue. It doesn't have a plot that runs all the way through it, but each piece is based on a news story of the day. It's not just a collection of songs.

In the case of I'll Say She Is, it was a thinly plotted revue. And the thin plot is: a bored heiress is looking for thrills. That's the plot. It makes Animal Crackers look very sophisticated. It begins with a breaking news that a society woman craves excitement, she has promised her hand, her heart, and her fortune to whoever can give her the biggest thrill. Very saucy stuff.

So, each scene or musical number in the show is vaguely an attempt to give her a thrill. It's kind of like a clothesline. You can hang anything on it. So, the Napoleon's sketch—in the context that was provided for it in 1924—is a fantasy sequence where the ingenue fantasizes that she's in the court of Napoleon. That’s the attempt of the hypnotist to give her a thrill.

In order to make the show a little more compact and a little more accessible, in my adaptation I did nudge it a little closer to being a book show. I did I strengthen the plot a little bit. I just added some reinforcements, some undergirding to the plot. And some things in the show that weren't connected to the plot, but could have been, I made some little connections there.

And also, some of the sequencing was a little perverse in terms of how the evening built. So I thought, with the help of many people who worked on the show with me, but I'll mention Travest-D and Amanda Sisk, who had a lot to do with the development of the script, we figured out that the Napoleon scene really should go at the end of Act One. And the courtroom scene should go at the end of Act Two. And other  little concessions like that to make a contemporary audience feel some sense of satisfaction.

 

JOHN

You both do such a nice job of Groucho—even though one of you has to be dragged into it kicking and screaming. What is, from your experience, what is the hardest part of being Groucho on stage?

 

NOAH

Well, for me, the most challenging part is the physical performance. That's the part I work on the most. When I see video of myself as Groucho, that's the part—if I notice things to improve on next time—they're usually physical things. I think that may have something to do with my particular skill set. I'm very comfortable vocally. I like my vocal version of Groucho and it sounds the way he sounds to me. I generally feel confident with that, although off nights do happen.

But physically, being him physically, partly because he was so verbally overwhelming, we often overlook what an interesting and unusual and brilliant physical performer, Groucho Marx was. I can't think of anyone who moved the way he moved. Both his physical body was unusual, his shape, and the way he—especially in the early films—he like has no gravity. He's sort of weightless.

There is a tendency to make him too manic and to try to match his impact by being loud and fast and very abrupt in your movements. Or overly precise. He wasn't that precise, actually. He was pretty sloppy in the way he moved. But there was a grace in all that sloppiness…

The difficulty of putting it into words—that you're experiencing with me right now—is part of where the challenge is. There are times when I feel good about the physical performance, and I nail something, a move of his that I've been working on. But I think that's the part that's the most challenging.

 

JOHN

Okay, Jim, how about you? What did you find most challenging?

 

JIM

You know, what I found most challenging is dealing with the mantle of Groucho. Not just the audience's expectations of what that means, but more problematic, my own belief system, about what I'm capable of, and how far short of what the man was and did on stage my version of him is.

So for me, I always had to really kind of get myself ramped up in order to believe that, okay, I'm going to go on, I'm going to do this. And it was a constant battle for me every night before I would go on. Am I capable of this? Is there anything about this that's even moderately entertaining for an audience? And I just couldn't get by that and I still can't, you know, I still can't get that out of my head.

Now, I separate that for a second and set it aside with It's a Wonderful Life. I'm very happy with what I've achieved in It's a Wonderful Life. Very happy with, what I've done, me personally, and the show in general. But my performances, I'm very happy and satisfied with them and I'd love to do them and can't wait till December comes around so I can do it again.

But the Marx Brothers thing is that there's a fear factor, I guess that I'm going to let him down in some way and I can't help but let him down. There's a certain love and respect I have for him, in the same way that I have love and respect for magic, that I just don't want to be a bad Elvis impersonator. You know what I mean? That's what I don't want to do. There's a big difference between Elvis and the best Elvis impersonator and you can have joy in both. But, you know, Groucho is so far—and nothing against Elvis, please. If you're listening to this podcast, and you think I'm about to diss Elvis, you're right. But I don't mean it that way.

There's a vast difference between what Groucho was on screen and what Elvis was on screen. Elvis could sing. Groucho could do anything. And that's the difference, and I can't do anything. I can barely sing. I'm lucky enough to have done it and I'm happy to have done it and when people talk to me about it. ‘Oh, I saw you was Groucho. You were excellent.’ And I want to say, ‘Apparently, you don't know the Marx brothers. I wasn't.’

 

NOAH

That's a very Groucho response, that hey, you are great in that show, and you have no taste, you know?

 

JIM

That's exactly right.

 

JOHN

Well, I could do this all night, but we're not going to do that. I want to just wrap up with a couple Speed Round questions, kind of general Marx Brothers questions. Noah, do you have a favorite of the movies?

 

NOAH

Animal Crackers, because I think it's the closest we can get to seeing them as a stage act at the peak of their powers.

 

JOHN 43:43

Okay, do you have a favorite scene?

 

NOAH

Yes, I feel guilty because my favorite Marx Brothers scene only has one Marx Brothers in it and I I love Harpo and Chico and I even love Zeppo. I have to say that, but my favorite scene is the strange interlude scene in Animal Crackers.

 

[Audio from the Clip]

 

JOHN

To have been there live, to watch him do that, to see him step forward. I would rank that very high for my favorite scene. Jim, do you have a favorite movie and a favorite scene?

 

JIM

Yeah, I think so. Largely because it was my first experience of the Marx Brothers, nothing for me compares to a Night at the Opera. If I am clicking around and Night at the Opera is on, we stopped clicking and that's what it is. And anybody who is in the house, my wife or the kids, I'm sorry, but you'll either have to find another TV or go out to play, because this is what we're going to be watching for a while And you know the line of Groucho’s, what happened?

 

[Audio from the Clip: “Oh, we had an argument, and he pulled a knife on me so I shot him.”].

 

JIM

That right there. When I heard that the first time, I was afraid I'd have to leave the theater. I started laughing so hard, and I couldn't come back from it. It just kept coming to me. I kept thinking of that well past it and was giggling about it and so that whole ‘belly up, put your foot up here.’ That whole thing to me is as good as it gets.

 

JOHN

One other little alley, I want to go down. There's another great book and Noah, if I get the title wrong, please correct me. Is it Four of the Three Musketeers?

 

NOAH 

Yes.

 

JOHN

Which tracks in exhausting detail, every stage appearance of their stage career. As you look through it—we're all getting older, all three guys—you begin to realize the weird gap or you think something was a long time ago and it turns out it wasn't. I was born in 1958 and realized just recently that Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein was made a mere 10 years before I was born. The Marx Brothers on stage in the 20s, or late teens and 20s, they're traveling everywhere in the country. They came to Minneapolis a lot. They went to Duluth a lot. And, you know, a mere 40 years before I was born, I could have gone and seen them. So, my question to you guys is: you have a chance to see the Marx Brothers live on stage in that era. What is your pick? What do you go see? You have a time machine. You can go you can go see one thing or two. I'll give you two, because I have two.

 

NOAH

Well, I'm glad. I'm glad you're given me two, because the obvious answer is I'll Say She Is and....

 

JIM

That would be my answer too.

 

JOHN

Bring your iPhone and hit record. Yeah.

 

NOAH 

Yeah, right, bootleg it. Nobody knows what an iPhone is anyway. Exactly.

 

JIM

And then you just go right back to what you did as a 14-year-old line by line.

 

JOHN

Okay. So, your second choice after the obvious, I'll Say She Is?

 

NOAH

I guess it would be to see some of the even earlier stuff, satisfying the urge to see them at their best on Broadway. You know, there's a lot of curiosity about the act up really up to 1920. In 1920 or 21, there's a big change. That’s when Groucho painted the moustache on and drops the German or sometimes Yiddish accent he had been using before. Harpo and Chico evolved more subtly, but in a sense, they were all playing somewhat different characters in the early vaudeville tabs. So I guess I would want to see Home Again, which was their vaudeville tabloid, that carried them through the World War One years and beyond.

 

JOHN

Jim?

 

JIM

Anything vaudeville. The school sketches that they did. I'd see anything. It wouldn't matter to me. If I could get back there, I'd go every day. John, you and I were talking about Robin Williams and being the greatest improviser of all time, and the quote that you said was, somebody had said, “see the eight o'clock show, then see the 10 o'clock show, and we'll talk.”

And to me, that's interesting. I would kill to, you know, follow them on the road, like Bruce Springsteen, and just see how much of it really is the same. In the same way that I'm tickled, when somebody says to me, ‘How much of that did you just make up on the spot?’

None of it. Essentially, none of it did I make up on the spot. I'd like to see how much of what they did day to day was exactly the same and how much of it was, ‘today, I'm going to do this for no reason at all’ and I'd like to see how much of that is different.

 

JOHN

You know, my two choices kind of fall within that. One is the day that Chico's daughter didn't go to the show, and she came home, and Chico thought she'd gone to it and he said, ‘What did you think?’ And she said, ‘What do you mean?’ And he said, ‘Harpo and I switched roles.’

And I know it's weird: if you had like one chance to go see the Marx Brothers, you're gonna go see them do the role they're supposed to do. But it's just fascinating when you think about it.

The other one is when Groucho was sick and Zeppo stepped in and if I'm quoting Susan Marx’s book correctly, the reaction was so strong towards what Zeppo did that Groucho got healthy really fast and came back. But Zeppo was really, really good. We do have the agent sketch, so you get a sense of what they were like on stage. You do get that. But the idea of seeing, I can easily see Zeppo doing Groucho. But Chico doing Harpo and vice versa? I realize that if I have a time machine, I should go back and do something more helpful for the world. But at that same time, I want to stop by and see that one show where they switched.

 

JIM

That you’ll do that on your lunch break. While you're stopping World War Two, on the way home, swing by and see that show. You've earned it.

 

NOAH

That's a good answer.

 

JOHN

Yeah. Noah, thank you so much for chatting with us.

 

JIM

Just a delight. Thank you so much. I had a great time talking to you.

 

NOAH

It's been a pleasure, fellas. Thank you for having me on.