Columnist John Katsilometes: In defense of clowns and mimes

Monday, July 10, 2000 | 9:21 a.m.

John Katsilometes is the Sun assistant features editor. His column appears Mondays. Reach him at kats@lasvegassun.com or 259-2327.

A few quick questions:

When a mime meets up with a clown, which one scoffs?

Would the late Bob Bell (Bozo the Clown) ridicule Marcel Marceau, or vice versa?

If we were forced by law to vote for either a mime or clown to be depicted on a coin or postage stamp, who (or what) would we choose?

Mime? Clown? Tough call. Both elicit gleeful mockery, from such divergent sources as Billy Crystal (who said in "This Is Spinal Tap" while portraying an uncharacteristically belligerent mime, "C'mon, c'mon. Mime is money") and George Bush (who stooped to Bozodom when referring to Bill Clinton and Al Gore as "those two Bozos" in an awkward bit of ad-libbing during a 1992 presidential campaign rally).

The clown has been satirized as the cigarette-smoking "Krusty" on "The Simpsons." The mime has been reduced to a set prop; one of the biggest laughs in "Tootsie" came after a depressed Dustin Hoffman found brief pleasure in tipping over a mime in Central Park.

However, to combat a couple of harsh stereotypes that survived the trend of political correctness (which, incidentally, is celebrating its 10th anniversary this month), I come to defend the clowns and mimes. The shift in attitude is a result of a couple of gentlemen I met last week, one a clown at Circus Circus (Dave DeDera) and the other a mime at Paris Las Vegas (Mark Lemberger).

DeDera is a husky-voiced, 6-foot-5 guy who once worked with the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus. Lemberger is a more diminutive 5-7-ish and has plied his craft in Paris and New York City before moving to the faux-Paris in Las Vegas.

In his own way, each refuted long-held misconceptions about clowns and mimes. A sampling:

Clowns and mimes are meek.

DeDera, tall enough to stand in as a stunt man for Tommy Tune in "EFX" (which he's done), was accepted into the police academy in Chicago before deciding to become a clown. While touring with Ringling Bros. he was "boss clown," a position requiring a strong backbone that served as a bridge between good (the clown corps) and evil (the dastardly circus management).

"There are anywhere from 18 to 26 clowns in the show and you're in charge of all of them," DeDera said. "There can't be two more opposite groups than clowns and management. It's really tough to keep both sides away from each other's throats."

(DeDera added that one egregious transgression that would get a clown called to the mat in the structured circus world would be to "drop his pants at the wrong time.")

Lemberger's job is deceptively high-risk, definitely not for the faint of heart. As part of his act he deftly separates couples walking through the casino's Le Boulevard walkway, usually pulling the woman away and grabbing the man's hand. You never know how a husband will react when his wife has vanished and been replaced by a muted person in white face paint and a goofy black bowler.

"I never get tired of the looks on their faces," Lemberger said. "Yes, sometimes they can get angry. You make sure it doesn't last long."

Kids cower when encountering clowns and mimes.

"They like the costume," DeDera said. "It's something visual. All I have to do is stand there. They like the sight gags, the juggling."

Lemberger doesn't perform traditional pantomime, such as the annoying routine where a guy pretends to be trapped inside an invisible box. Instead he's perfected an act based largely on physical mimicry.

"What kids don't like is the guy-inside-the-box stuff," Lemberger said. "I won't do that. I try for more subtlety. You know, I was only 8 years old when I first saw this and I loved it."(That might put him in the minority of 8-year-olds, but still ...)

Clowns and mimes are asexual.

DeDera met his wife, a trapeze artist, while touring with the circus, proving it can serve as a romantic atmosphere (just park your red noze and size-28 Nikes at the door).

Lemberger, keenly perceptive of the personalities surrounding him at Paris, has noticed an unmistakable vibe from some female tourists.

"Women pick up on you. That does happen," he said. "It's not overt, but you do notice when they're interested in you. They flirt, ask a lot of questions, you can always pick up on that."

The art of clowning and miming is a dead end.

Each skill can lead to huge audiences. Both DeDera and his wife performed as stilt-walkers for the Rolling Stones' 1995 Voodoo Lounge tour, chasing Mick Jagger around during "Monkey Man."

"I spit fire out over the audience. It was great," DeDera said. "We did just those three minutes a night, but it was in front of, like, 86,000 people."

Lemberger landed a movie role, as one of the street dancers in "Flashdance."

"I'm still getting big, fat royalty checks from 'Flashdance,' " Lemberger said.

Without realizing it he proved Crystal right: Mime really is money.