Today we
look at the most beloved of the Marx Brothers, Harpo Marx. We must also pause
for an unpleasant confession: when we here at The Jade Sphinx first became enamored of the Marx Brothers, we not
only disliked Harpo, we loathed him.
Strong
words, we know, but let us explain. While
growing up, comedy was for me a verbal exercise – a concentration of wit and
wordplay. Comedy came down to the
written word and its skillful delivery. Comedy
was something said. Slapstick, pantomime
and clowning did not possess the elements of wit and intelligence, to our
minds, and were simply degraded … funniness.
Fortunately,
with age comes wisdom (or a distant relative of it, in my case), and now Harpo
is perhaps my favorite of the team. Not
simply because I have been able to overcome my linguistic prejudices and finally
recognize his comic genius, but, more importantly, because I see the real and
elemental sweetness of the man shining through his work.
Of all
of the Brothers Marx, Harpo had much the happiest life. Groucho said Harpo had a talent for happiness, and that comes through in everything he does.
Harpo
was born Adolph Marx in 1888. He supplemented
the family income with piano and harp playing, and joined the act as a
comic. Though he originally spoke in his
onstage appearances, reviewers were quick to praise his skills as a pantomime
and physical comic. Knowing a strength
when it was pointed out to him, he became a mute act and comedy history was
made.
If the
Marx Brothers movies are studies in surrealism, then Harpo is the most surreal
of them all. It is no surprise that he
was loved by Salvador Dali (1904-1989)
and other absurdists. Like a character
from a Looney Tunes cartoon, the
rules of time, space and dimension that rule all of us do not seem to apply to
Harpo. He is able to pull lit
cigarettes, candles or steaming cups of coffee from the pockets of his pendulous
jacket. Dogs lean out of tattoos and
bark at the audience; he can make a payphone payoff a jackpot. He is virtually indestructible, and though he
can be hurt, it seems as if his corporeal self is made of stronger stuff than
are we.
But for
all of the invincibility – he is the only Marx Brother who is vulnerable. Harpo is capable of great acts of kindness,
self-sacrifice and sweetness that are impossible to the more self-absorbed
Groucho and Chico. In more ways than one,
Harpo was the soul of the act – the most outlandish of them all was also the
most human.
If Harpo
was undisguised ID, it was the ID of a basically good child. He was ruled by lust, hunger and enthusiasm,
but never self-interest, enmity nor malice.
We may wish for Chico’s wiliness, or Groucho’s Olympian wit, but we long
for Harpo’s soul.
Harpo
married Susan Fleming in 1936. He was
the only one of the performing brothers who married once and married
happily. They adopted four children:
Bill, Alex, Jimmy and Minnie. He is
recorded as having told fellow comedian George Burns: I would like to adopt as many children as I have windows in my
house. So when I leave for work, I want
a kid in every window waving goodbye.
Though Harpo
received very little formal schooling, he was good friends with most of the Algonquin Round Table, including critic
Alexander Woolcott (1887-1943), who
may have had a homosexual passion for the comic. Groucho thought spending time with the Round
Table was “like swimming in a shark pool,” but Harpo seemed to hold his own,
mostly by being such a good audience.
When Woolcott was parodied in the 1939 comedy The Man Who Came Dinner, by George
S. Kaufman (1889-1961) and Moss Hart
(1904-1961), Harpo was transformed into the character Banjo, memorably played
by Jimmy Durante (1893-1980) in the
film version. Harpo and Woolcott,
however, both played their fictional selves on the Los Angeles stage – and what
your correspondent wouldn’t have given to have seen that!
Later in
life, Harpo published his autobiography, Harpo
Speaks. And did he ever, at long
last. His final public appearance was in
1964, when he appeared onstage with comedian Allan Sherman (1924-1973) to announce his retirement. Once he started talking, it seemed as if he
would never shut up.
Harpo
died just six months later from a heart attack following open heart
surgery. Many people have recorded that
it was the only time they saw brother Groucho cry.
Despite
rumors to the contrary, Harpo was not mute and spoke with an old, New York
accent. If it does not destroy too much
of the illusion, you can hear him here:
Watch
any of the Marx Brothers films, but especially those from Coconuts (1929) to A Night
at the Opera (1935). It’s enough to
make you a Marxist, too.
Harpo With His Real-Life Children
No comments:
Post a Comment