Help! Help! I Know This Title Is Long, but Somebody’s Trying to Kill Me!
Clowns scare or amuse kids at birthday parties and cheer up the infirm at hospitals, right? So it’s no surprise that Drew Richardson would call himself a “dramatic fool.” No red nose. No mention of the C-word. Still, it’s obvious that he’s pushing the limits of contemporary clowning even as he takes on the venerable title of “fool,” inevitably conjuring up a long line of clowns in theater, including Shakespeare’s wise fools. But no cunning witticisms, puns, or bawdy humor are available to Richardson’s character. He relies instead on physical humor, using his expressive furrowed brow and wonderfully nuanced bearing to invite us to join in a good laugh at his expense.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
In Help! Help! I Know This Title Is Long, but Somebody’s Trying to Kill Me! Richardson explicitly pays tribute to vaudeville, but his approach and physical prowess do credit to a much broader heritage. His physical fluidity mirrors Charlie Chaplin’s or Buster Keaton’s–although Richardson’s entertaining walk/shuffle is closer to Richard Simmons or a step-aerobics instructor. His interactions with objects, such as a ukulele with a mind of its own, recall the lazzi of commedia dell’arte or pantomimists who continually struggle with the inanimate world.
The Sign-changer is the timid type. If he were performing with other clowns, he’d be the brunt of their jokes rather than the rabble-rousing prankster. And though Richardson is effectively alone onstage, he does have someone to play against–the unseen killer (represented late in the show by a disembodied voice). This threatening presence is the perfect authority figure for a clown to react to and occasionally rebel against. Unfortunately, Richardson doesn’t play this up.
