Circus Clowns Polish Up Classic Sight Gags for 118th Year

“All the world loves a clown,” sang Donald O’Connor in the film classic “Singin’ in the Rain.” Nowhere is that sentiment more in evidence than at Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, particularly this year; the 118th edition, opening tonight at the Sports Arena, celebrates the 20th anniversary of the Circus’ unique training program, Clown College in Venice, Fla.

In honor of the school’s founding, famous gags from years past have been revived, among them the 1940 “clown car” routine that somehow packs a multitude of the mirth-makers into a tiny automobile; a 1949 gag where statue-painters manage to get paint on everything but the statue, and a 1923 firehouse brigade romp.

Newer antics include the pre-show audience warm-up known in circus parlance as the “clown come-in” and an aerial tramway caper.

Overseeing the show’s 25 clowns is Boss Clown Tommy Parish, 30, who prefers to call himself the “slapstick supervisor.” Besides cavorting both on the ground and on stilts, the nine-year circus veteran makes sure the show’s 50 gags run smoothly, serves as clown spokesman and, like all the clowns, devises new gags for the show.

“We don’t get this stuff out of books,” he said, relaxing backstage between performances in Anaheim, where the circus performed before its Los Angeles engagement. “We think up a gag, make our own props, practice for a couple of years and if everything works it’s the greatest feeling to see the crowd’s reaction, especially the kids.”

While the timing and special effects for some routines can take up to five years to perfect, others have much shorter gestations.

“Three of us put together a cowboy-and-Indians gag for the come-in in two days,” recalled Kevin Thompson, a 35-year-old dwarf who lives in his native Arleta for the few weeks a year he is not on the road.

A high-school class clown who joined the circus in 1980, Thompson feels his size is an advantage. “I don’t think the cowboy-and-Indians gag, for instance, would be as funny if I were full size--I’m a 4-foot-6 ‘bad guy’ who ties a 6-foot-tall man to a totem pole. That puts a lot of the ‘sight’ into the gag.”

Even the most carefully crafted gag leaves the clowns some latitude for improvisation, Thompson added. “I like to ad-lib, as long as I don’t throw the other clowns off. They play off of me as I do for them.”

Each gag runs 2 1/2 to 3 minutes, and within that time must tell a complete story, according to Parish’s wife Tammy, 29, who followed her high-school sweetheart from their hometown of Neodesha, Kan., to become a clown in 1980. “We’re kind of cartoons come to life,” she said. “In fact, we watch a lot of Saturday-morning cartoons--it’s important to keep in touch with what’s going on in a child’s world today.”

Clowns also draw their inspiration from movies--such as a “Ghostbusters” stunt in another company of the circus--comic books and other, more unexpected sources. A gag in this year’s show where a giant set of teeth chases a dental assistant was based on Pacman.

Despite the prevalence of high-tech entertainment, the clowns agree that their audiences haven’t changed much over the years. “Everything’s been done before,” said Tommy Parish. “We watch Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, Harold Lloyd, Laurel and Hardy to see what they did. What made people laugh then still does.”

The clowns also perform “walkaround” gags--diverting the audience from ringside while the next act is setting up or when something unforeseen such as an accident or power failure occurs. “Some people perceive us as being the ‘filler’ between acts,” Tommy Parish commented. “But it’s an important job. The people love us.”

The clowns themselves are not immune to the hazards of performing live in a show with special effects, animals and so much physical activity, but they said the rewards far outweigh the risks. Chief among those benefits is bringing joy to “children of all ages” in the arena, as well as at hospitals and schools for the disabled which they visit in each city.

“And,” said Tammy Parish, “there is something about that transition that happens as you put on your makeup, wig and big shoes. You step out there and the lights go up, and the music is playing. Even if you’ve had a horrible day, somehow it’s all forgotten.”