When the Stars Aligned For Comedy

Time is a funny thing. I often felt in my youth that I was growing up in the wrong time, which had a lot to do with the movies I watched and the music I listened to. I grew up listening to the “oldies” radio station with my dad in his old pickup truck, which filled my head with Bo Diddley beats and Chuck Berry doublestops, Buddy Holly jangles and Little Richard’s howls. The Beatles were my Dad’s favorite band, but the oldies station would only play their early songs back then. I still heard the 80s songs that were current at the time, but my concept of good music was from Motown, the British Invasion, and pre-Vegas Elvis. 

Dad was also responsible for introducing me to The Three Stooges, which played on the local network on Sunday mornings which, for my money, was a fine substitute for church. There weren’t many my age who really dug the Stooges all that much, or for that matter anything else in black and white- but Moe, Larry, and Curly opened a door into a monochrome world that I accepted without question. Even if I had no friends to share the laughs with, there was an embarrassment of hilarious riches for me in the films of Abbott and Costello, the Marx Brothers, Our Gang, Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and Laurel and Hardy. There were stations that had room for the classic comedy material in their programming here and there, and I figured out which days I had to get up early to watch them. Often I’d be laughing into a pillow to muffle the sound, for fear of waking my family.

By extension, this opened my mind to the history of cinema more broadly, in ways that were perhaps alien to my peers. As a result, when I went to the video rental spot or surfed the channels on early cable, I became fluent in the classic Universal Monster flicks, tons of atomic age B-movies, films by Hitchcock, and eventually surrealist works by masters like Bunuel. I was always unapologetically a nerd about this stuff, and as I made my way to adulthood (if indeed I ever grew up, in the stricter sense) I found others who had similar tastes. Now, in an age where everything can be streamed or downloaded or purchased online with a quick two-day delivery, it seems like I might have been born at precisely the right time. The same technology also allows me to wax nostalgic online and record podcasts, finding still other friends and sympathetic audiences for my nerdery. Sirius XM has whole channels that will play music from the 50s and 60s, and my commute home can transport me back in time to the shotgun seat of my Dad’s pickup truck with a twist of the dial or a quick search on spotify. Perhaps best of all, finding any answer to any question, no matter how small or seemingly inconsequential, about the artists who made these songs, movies, and other media is readily searchable and discoverable online. Which leads me, circuitously and idiosyncratically, to the subject at hand: how the stars aligned for the biggest stars in early comedy.

In comedy, timing is everything. For a master class in comedic timing, one need only watch Abbott and Costello’s “Who's on First?” routine. The premise is ridiculous, and the punchlines are minimal- it’s the rhythm that really sells it. If you watch this routine, then watch any episode of Seinfeld, you’ll notice a similarity in this punctuated comedic timing between Jerry and George. Likewise, if you were to watch anyone attempt the classic baseball sketch who lacks the necessary skills that Bud and Lou innately had it wouldn’t be funny at all. It would fall completely flat. Through wit or pratfall, through cheap laughs or clever satire, comedy is hard- but if you can’t time the joke correctly, it’s impossible.

William “Bud” Abbott was born on October 2, 1897, and would go on to be considered the greatest straight man of all time. Comedy duos often rely on the tension and interplay between the one who plays it straight and the one who hams it up, and usually the straight man was considered the real talent- and was compensated accordingly. One might think, as I always did, that this was counter intuitive- isn’t the wackier guy really carrying the comedy? But, as it happens, you need both parts for the balance to work properly. Besides, it must be extremely difficult to avoid laughing or smiling in the role of the straight man, and Bud was the best in the biz. One prominent voice in comedy who thought so was none other than Julius “Groucho” Marx, who was born on the same day as Abbott seven years earlier. A pattern emerges- two of the greatest voices in classic comedy, born on the same day! For a comedy nerd such as myself, who also has leanings toward the mystical, the thread was too enticing to avoid tugging on. 

"Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana."

Naturally, I had to see if any Three Stooges birthdays fell on the same day, and while none did, Ted Healy’s birthday was the day before. Healy was the original leader of the trio, and they were billed as “Ted Healy and His Stooges”. The original lineup was just Moe and Shemp, with Larry added later. The boys were unfairly treated (and poorly paid) by Healy, which inspired them to break out on their own and forgo the straight man. Shemp, however, was so afraid of crossing Ted that he left the group. As such, needing a third member, Jerome “Curly” Howard became the beloved third Stooge. Incidentally, Larry Fine’s birthday was October 5. 

Although born in different years, it seems worth further digging when three of the best known comedy teams of all time share such a birthday cluster. The natural next step is to see if other patterns emerge- and wouldn’t you know it, they did! Lou Costello, Shemp Howard, and Chico Marx were all born in March (on the 3rd, the 11th, and the 22nd respectively). While the date range is slightly more spread out, it’s striking that all three comedy groups had this October to March dynamic in them. Thinking in terms of astrology, this would be the interplay between the signs of Libra and Pisces. Technically, this falls apart since Chico was born outside of Pisces, but his brother Zeppo wasn’t- his birthday was February 25. Zeppo was always stuck with smaller roles that were played much more straight than those of Harpo, Chico, and Groucho. After appearing in five of their movies, he left the group, and many Marx Brothers fans agree that despite his apparently minor contributions in the movies, they were never the same without him. Even though he wasn’t as outlandish as his brothers in the films, it is said that he was something of an understudy to Groucho. If, for some reason, Groucho couldn’t make it to a live show, Zeppo would throw on a greasepaint moustache and eyebrows and play the part well enough that no one knew the difference! In an odd twist to an already odd line of inquiry, regular cast member and foil to the antics of the Marxes Margaret Dumont was born in the sign of Libra and died in the sign of Pisces. 

Expanding the scope of birthdays to a full month or full astrological birth sign, we can go ahead and include Curly Howard, since he was born on October 22nd, the tail end of Libra. This means that the Libra-Pisces convergence between Healy and Shemp, which was the origin of the Three Stooges, once broken, gave way to a Libra-heavy team as Curly stepped in. When Curly’s health left him unable to continue making films, Shemp returned, restoring the balance. Shemp and Curly were about equally funny, but in very different ways. Perhaps a comparison of the two might unlock a secret about this cosmic comedy dynamic, and unveil the reason behind this alchemy that produces the finest farce. Or perhaps, like explaining a joke, it will simply render it a formula bereft of life and laughter. 

The truth is, I know much more about classic comedy than I do astrology. I’m loath to admit that I have never really had much interest in horoscopes and zodiac signs, which may mean I’m a bad occultist. I find it all very tedious, and not least for the reason that it’s all so complicated and involves a lot of math.

(Fortuitously enough, as I was putting this post together the local clowns here in Worcester put together a Clown Zodiac, which is very helpful and appropriate. How's THAT for timing? Go follow Mother Goose (@motherlucygoose) on Instagram to find your clown sign!)

I know enough about astrology to know that the sign you’re born under is only a part of your overall chart, and that the place of birth, the year, and the time of day all inform the broader picture of your personality and fate. That being the case, only the broadest conclusions could be pulled from what is admittedly an incredibly niche and weird focus of study. I have doubts in the extreme that anyone would be interested enough in doing a deeper dive into the astrological profiles of the comedy giants mentioned in this article, but if that person exists, I’d like to meet them! Beyond these caveats, it seems to me that a lot of astrology is somewhat open to interpretation. So I will do my best, with limited ability, to work with what I have… *

The zodiac has 12 signs, and the two signs in question here represent the 7th and 12. The earlier signs in the zodiac, ending with Virgo, are highly individualized and focus strictly on the personality while the last six illustrate the individual in relation to others. Libra is symbolized by scales, representing justice. Libras prefer to work in teams or partnerships, which seems significant for our purposes, and make great leaders and diplomats. We see this in Groucho, Abbott, and Ted Healy as they were all leaders in their own way. Likewise, Larry Fine was the glue that held the Stooges together, a bridge between the ornery Moe and the third Stooge, and remained in the act until the end. Curly was the team player who acted as a bridge for Shemp’s absence and eventual return. Meanwhile, Pisces is represented by two fish, and as a sign is much more creative and emotional in nature. Thinking in terms of emotion, one might consider that the funniest on-screen moments from Shemp or Lou Costello result from them becoming angry or fearful. According to astrology dot com, both signs share similarities and seek balance in their own ways. It seems like perhaps they do in ways that are complimentary, at least fleetingly, but often don’t last. We can consider that Bud and Lou eventually parted ways, and that Zeppo left his brothers a trio, and that Shemp only returned well after the danger of crossing Healy was moot. Perhaps there’s a kind of tension creatively that makes the timing work so well, that informs the routines and increases the laughter- or perhaps the answer isn’t to be found in the stars.

I often think of the comedy in these old films as being timeless, even if the jokes are dated and a bit corny. There's a cosmic thread of primordial funny running through in spite of the black and white set pieces and archaic lingo. Paradoxically, the timing is timeless. Groucho said that humor is logic gone mad, and here we are. He also said he wanted to live forever or die trying, and in a way he has. The influence of the planets may have something to do with the chemistry, which is, after all, just another name for alchemy. As discussed above, Bud and Lou were dynamic as a duo, balancing each other perfectly. It gets more complicated with the four Marx Brothers or the Three Stooges, but examining this chemistry is worthwhile there as well. Abbott and Costello were a pair of buddies, the Stooges were like the Three Musketeers, while the Marx Brothers had an altogether different formula.

Groucho, as the Libra Jester portrayed authority figures as a way of challenging the entire concept of authority. Chico was always paired with his silent partner Harpo. (Hey, I had to get a dumb joke in on that one. It's worth noting that Harpo's mime routine was picked up as an avatar for the "Greek God of Silence" Harpocrates by Discordians...) There's probably no better example of Groucho's parody of leadership than his role as Rufus T. Firefly, the leader of Freedonia in "Duck Soup". The wacky political satire received mixed reviews at its 1933 release, but saw a renaissance of recognition as a classic by the counterculture of the 60s and 70s. The Jester figure of Firefly is never far from my mind when real-life political buffoonery presents itself. Just a few days before writing this, I had occasion to paraphrase the character in regard to our current president... "He may look like an idiot, and talk like an idiot, but don't let that fool you-- he really is an idiot." This, of course, was a line at Chico's expense. Though Chico and Harpo were paired together and often in opposition to Groucho, some of the best and most quotable scenes in the films are those with Groucho and Chico. Whether it's Groucho trying to gain access to a speakeasy with Chico in his way, or the signing of a contract in "A Night at the Opera", the wisecracking Groucho finds that no quick turn of wit can compete fully with Chico's blissful lack of understanding. Humor IS logic gone mad, and there ain't no sanity clause after all.

The Three Stooges have a lot less of this dynamic in isolation to study. Moe was often the one directing the action, and Curly or Shemp (and later, Joe Besser or Curly Joe DeRita) was on the receiving end of the most slapstick moments. Larry is often left out of the discussion, as he is less often the main subject of our attention. He was great though, as as the Libra of the group was the fulcrum in the balancing act without which the whole thing falls apart. For our purposes here, we can analyze Larry with Shemp at the beginning of The Brideless Groom. Shemp and Larry both have an advantage in comedy simply for being funny looking. Shemp could be funny with just his hair- going from the slicked back look to hair covering his face was always laugh-worthy. Known as "The ugliest man in Hollywood", prior to joining back up with the boys for the short films, he was doing ok for himself with other comedy acts. He appeared alongside W. C. Fields, Fatty Arbuckle, and Abbott and Costello. Scenes of his were cut from Abbott and Costello's movies because they were too funny, and stealing the thunder of Bud and Lou. We see him at his best in The Brideless Groom, in which he's forced to marry as a condition of receiving an inheritance. The singing lesson at the beginning has Larry and Shemp both reacting in their own ways to terrible singing, and it's hilarious. I will contend that Shemp was just as funny as Curly again, and sadly we only get to see them together onscreen once- Curly appears as a sleeping passenger on a train in the 1947 short "Hold That Lion!"

It makes one wonder if there's a hidden Leo influence in the mix...

Perhaps there’s something about being born in the months when autumn lays the trees bare and something about having a birthday when those same trees are about to come back to life again- the death and rebirth cycle- that lends itself to great, timeless comedy. There may be other examples of this phenomena, if indeed the word applies, outside of comedy. There may be others still within the comedic but in a later era which have escaped me. This dynamic seems to exist in the aforementioned Our Gang films, as George McFarlane (Spanky) also shares a birthday with Groucho and Bud, while his co-star Billie Thomas (Buckwheat) was a Pisces. Perhaps I’m seeing patterns where they don’t exist, but I consider comedy to be a mystical and sacred thing. I can’t help but wonder…

It’s not as though I haven’t noticed other examples. Take the month of June, for instance, along with the great oldies music I grew up with- Paul McCartney, Brian Wilson, and Ray Davies all have birthdays within a few days of one another. McCartney and Wilson were even born in the same year! It’s amazing to think that some of the most well-remembered songwriters for three of the biggest bands in the 60s- The Beatles, the Beach Boys, and the Kinks- would have this in common. One might be interested to know that Elvis Presley and David Bowie also shared a birthday.

 

Here’s another one: horror legends Vincent Price and Christopher Lee shared the same birthday, while Peter Cushing’s birthday was the day before. It seems such an odd coincidence, and maybe that’s because it’s not. Or maybe, coincidence is entirely common and we all seek meaning where there is none. 

There are times, however, when one wants to chase these phantom flights of fancy if only for a laugh, a hit of nostalgia, or a passing moment of wonder at the machinery of the universe and the myriad ways it produces joy. Whatever time it is for you, I hope it was well spent as I indulged in this investigation.

*This piece has been on the back burner for literally years. I have had more than enough time to learn astrology but have failed to do so. Readers might be surprised how often something I’m writing has wallowed in the wings for years before finally being fleshed out…

Flim Flam, Fables, and the Phenomenon

 

The study and pursuit of something so nebulous as UFO phenomena, especially when you are open enough to include tangential phenomena as part of what is often now referred to simply as "The Phenomenon", can feel like a maddening and foolish endeavor. One can investigate UFOs in any number of ways, or some combination of various ways. UFOs have been looked as a sociological phenomenon, and from a psychological perspective. They have been studied in varying types of scientific methodologies, from the astronomical to the statistical. They can be fodder for B-movies and tabloid headlines, or they can be viewed through mystical and occult perspectives. All of these combine in a view of UFOs as modern folklore and myth-making, where the stories themselves are the important part and proof of their veracity or physical reality is secondary. After all, physical evidence is in short supply; it could be that the paradigms we have for determining "reality" of something so strange as UFOs is ill-equipped to contend with how malleable reality really is, that the physical realm isn't the only one, and that the truth tends to be found in unexpected places beyond the grasp of measurable data. 

Even when we consider the folkloric, mythic narratives of high strangeness, we are forced to contend with the old chestnut of reliability of the witness. I have tackled this subject before here on this blog, but for our purposes now I want to explore how witness testimony tends to be handled. A lot of the classic UFO stories were heralded by researchers because of the supposed reliability of the witness to the event; for instance, the Lonnie Zamora encounter- as a policeman he was thought to be trustworthy and a "trained observer". Many other incidents reported by law enforcement are held up as more reliable, and the same treatment gets applied to those serving in the armed forces or to those in academia. We gravitate towards authority when facing the unknown, even if the unknown by definition has no attendant authority figure. It seems that some amount of UFO enthusiasts have turned away from this mindset, and are more likely to consider cases like that of Joe Simonton and his flying saucer flapjacks. Of course, old Joe did have some physical evidence in the form of the pancake, which was tested and found to be composed of mundane, earthly elements- which would seem to discredit his story. It would seem that way, perhaps, but the story still persists, even though Simonton was not a "trained observer". 

Using too many specific examples may bog down the point being made here, but as a general rule most well-known UFO encounter stories, and personalities attached to them, become controversial in one way or another. Retellings of events, attempts at debunking (up to and including character assassination), profiteering, and sensationalism all play a part in weakening the credibility of a story. Sometimes the tales buckle under the weight of a little bit of scrutiny, only to be bolstered by further scrutiny of the sources scrutinizing them. Ultimately, they may fall down completely, or stand tall as a tale of mystery. If my way of writing about this seems absurdly repetitive, that's intentional- the idiosyncratic use of language here illustrates well the distortions caused by the feedback loop in looking closely at the highly strange. The caution here would be not to throw out the proverbial babies with the tubs of proverbial bath water. When scrutiny reveals inconsistencies, it may simply mean that the story is too weird to be related any other way.

UFOlogists have classically hated a hoaxer. Anyone caught in a lie (as a witness, at least) is subject to being written off entirely by some amount of what can loosely be called "the field" of UFOlogy. The major investigation groups abhorred "repeaters" back in the day; it was thought that the odds were against even a singular sighting, and that anyone with multiple such stories was likely to be a liar or mentally ill. If such a person also dabbled in magic, or lived in a haunted house, or once saw Bigfoot, the credibility meter would drop much further. Sometimes you would have what sounded like a "normal" UFO sighting, and the attendant other phenomena would be omitted from the report for fear that it would undermine the legitimacy of the primary story. In the service of presenting a palatable truth, only a half-truth was presented- and lies of omission are still lies, which then undermines the investigator... resulting in more proverbial babies being lost in the flood of discarded bath water.

We all know that lying is wrong, even though all of us do it all of the time in small ways. Even back in the days of Aesop tales were told about the dangers of lies, and the boy who cried "wolf" served as a cautionary tale. On the other hand, as noted by Aristotle, the liar can tell the truth without having to worry about being taken at his word. Maybe the UFOs, whatever they may actually be, understand this aspect of narrative and choose to visit liars simply because no one will believe them. We can extrapolate from this that they might be more likely to appear in front of someone who is under the influence of drugs, or to a comedian who no-one would take seriously. To mix fables here, perhaps the wolf is really a UFO in wolf's clothing, and no matter how much the shepherd boy cries it won't prove a thing about the reality of wolves or UFOs.

In the interest of reinforcing this unconventional idea, by way of truth-finding via unlikely source material in our own peculiar idiosyncratic fashion, let us look at the Phenomenon as Flim Flam and Fable through two obscure sources from the 1960s. 

A 1960 Mexican movie, La Nave de los Monstruos (Ship of Monsters) becomes an unlikely candidate for illustrating the nature of the Phenomenon. It stars a popular actor, comedian, and singer / songwriter of Mexico during that era named Eulalio González, often called "Piporro". He is a singing cowboy who tells all manner of fish tales to his friends, all of whom rightly dismiss his stories. It's only natural that when a pair of buxom space ladies from Venus land the titular ship of monsters in search of a male earth specimen, they find Piporro's character Lauriano.

It would be easy to dismiss the movie as B-movie balderdash, even if, like your humble writer you are a fan of the genre. La nave de monstruos has in spades everything one could want from a B-movie; monsters, a cheesy robot, pin-up beauties, and even a vampire and some musical numbers. It also does not take itself too seriously, and its the very playfulness of the movie that makes it so profoundly appropriate in relation to the Phenomenon. When no one believes Lauriano about his experiences at the end of the movie, he is able to laugh about it and go on living his best singing cowboy life. And although the assemblage of elements in the story are absurd, they all have corollaries in the annals of UFO testimony. The creature on the poster, for instance, bears a passing resemblance to the humanoids reported in the Pascagoula abduction event, which occurred over a decade after the movie's release. The Venusian woman aren't very different from the alleged flying saucer occupants contactees like Truman Bethurum or Orfeo Angelucci wrote about. The movie also has a scene in which a cow is reduced to a skeleton in an instant, at a time well before cattle mutilation became associated with UFOs. 

The purpose for the Venusian mission is to find specimens to help repopulate Venus, hence the monsters which range from a cyclopean named Uk to a Martian prince, vaguely in the form of a grey alien, named Tagual. This fits in with the famous Antonio Villas-Boas case, in which he is forced to copulate with an alien, and also later narratives about genetic and reproductive motives behind abductions that became popular in the 1980s. It's worth mentioning as well that Villas-Boas was often characterized as a farmer, less reliable and respectable than one might prefer in a witness, but this is not true. He went on to lead a normal life, and became a successful lawyer. 

Ultimately, the movie is a fun romp and well worthy of a viewing. It may interest those who are interested in UFO lore, as it were, to look at it as an allegory for the Phenomenon more broadly.

Similarly, we see this kind of narrative play out in an episode of Twilight Zone called "Hocus Pocus and Frisby". It's certainly one of the sillier episodes of the Zone, and doesn't often rate on most lists of episodes that defined the series. However, the silliness of it mirrors the absurdity of UFO stories, replete with an unreliable narrator and an incredulous audience for his recounting of events. Rod Serling introduces Frisby in his inimitable way thusly:

He has all the drive of a broken camshaft and the aggressive vinegar of a corpse. As you've no doubt gathered, his big stock in trade is the tall tale. Now, what he doesn't know is that the visitors out front are a very special breed, destined to change his life beyond anything even his fertile imagination could manufacture.

Frisby is a shopkeeper, regaling his customers with whoppers so big Abe Simpson would blush at the telling. He is played by Andy Devine, known for his work in westerns and his whistling, wavering voice. The townsfolk balk at Frisby's grandiose lies of valor and genius, but he is unperturbed and keeps telling them. No one believes him, but, as we come to learn, they love hearing his stories even if they are visibly unconvinced.

As he is closing up for the day, a pair of well dressed men in a black car pull up outside looking for fuel. Frisby can't resist his impulses, and tells them all about his inventions in automotive history and his ingenious innovations in science. The two men are impressed, and say they will see him again very soon. The Men in Black phenomenon has a very obvious resonance here. The men act strangely, seem unfamiliar with very mundane things, and cryptically tell Frisby they will see him again soon. 

It turns out that these MiB are aliens, who have landed their craft somewhere nearby. They act unfamiliar with mundane things because they are visitors from another planet, and such mundane things are exotic to them. Also alien to their perspective is the concept of dishonesty. They take Frisby at his word, and decide he is an exemplary specimen to collect and bring back to their home planet. They selected him purely because of his lies, and when he tells the truth- that he is full of hot air and just enjoys spinning a yarn, it has no effect against their decision. He manages to escape by playing his harmonica badly. For some reason the sound of the musical instrument is incredibly painful to the aliens and messes up their technology. Naturally, the teller of insane tales finds himself in an insane situation, escaping because of an unbelievable weakness these extraterrestrial visitors have.

He arrives back at his shop to find his friends have set up a surprise 63rd birthday party for him, and they present him with a trophy for The World's Greatest Liar. Of course they don't believe their old pal, and never will- but they love the stories and celebrate him specifically for his tremendous yarns. Tell us another one, Frisby, we all want to hear it... Going from one group who wants him because they believe his lies to be true, back to the safety of those who feel a sense of truth to the certainty of his lies, we have an approximation of the way the lore in UFO history goes. 

Perhaps we also have an idea about the inherent mechanisms in the behaviors and motivations of these crafts and their reported occupants. At the very least, I am led to believe we have a rough guide on the best way to proceed- with a laugh, a song and dance, or a tall tale with good cheer and friendship. After all, that's really what it's all about.