Brother Theodore

On April 5, 2001, the world wept to hear of the passing of magnificent comedian Brother Theodore at age 94. I was one of the lucky ones who saw him peform on the University of Connecticut campus around 1989 or thereabouts. (Someone post his gigography so I can pinpoint the date!) To be honest, my knowledge of him at that time was pretty third-hand -- my UConn pals (some of whom were also at this gig, and continue as long-distance pals at the Triptych Cryptic) would relate tales of Theodore’s appearances on Late Night with David Letterman, but I regrettably never got to see Brother Theodore’s exploits there ‘cause my college roommate, who owned the tv, was a Carson/Leno man.

Anyway, the theater was dark, Theodore sat at a table, with a cup of water before him -- just like it says in his obits. He looked like a shrinky-dink Don Rickles, or a wizened frog. His haircut was a hilarious gray palm-thatch mess -- whether or not it was his real hair (probably it was), it still looked like a Harold Stassen wig recently removed from the dryer. I don’t remember his first line -- wish I took notes -- but I remember he immediately had the audience cracking up in a wide-eyed, lip-biting surprised way, which is the trademark of all the best comedy. Except he called it “stand-up tragedy.” One of his lines, which I remember from the show, but had forgotten until it was quoted in the New York Times obit, was this: “I've gazed into the abyss and the abyss gazed into me, and neither of us liked what we saw."

The rest of the show was an irresistible pleasure -- nonstop grimness and menace that kept the audience roaring with laughter. I remember the surprising moment (but of course, it wasn’t a surprise ‘cause he did it at every gig) when he sternly got up with his flashlight, walked to the edge of the stage scowling, beamed the flashlight at a pretty young co-ed in the front row, and rasped sincerely, in that thick German accent, “Hello.” This was Brother Theodore flirting, for the benefit of all of us who thought he was just trapped in existential angst and grim darkness for the rest of his days. The glowering, homely, stocky, short, disheveled, eighty-something old man with the flashlight attempting to "bag a chick" in the front row -- that struck me as hilarious and weird at the time. Now it strikes me as the centerpiece of the show. Because the sight of an octagenerian Holocaust survivor trying to flirt -- even in jest, just for effect, just to bring a laugh -- that’s an affirmation of spirit. Almost as if Sisyphus paused in his efforts as he saw a wonderful woman climbing down the mountain, and just let the boulder roll back down so he can meet the beautiful new stranger.

Anyway, check out the Brother Theodore website if you get a chance. The design sucks, but the site’s hilarious (he immediately advises you to "please reconsider your decision to visit," and scoffs at wily cynics like me, calling them "solitudinous morons"). I would be suspicious of a well-designed Brother Theodore site anyway.

Brother Theodore page by m.a.d. 06.15.2001