Chicago Sun-Times:
December 9, 1999
By Andrew Patner
Lord Richard Buckley, a k a the Hip Messiah, died a month before my first
birthday, and I have felt cheated ever since.
His recordings were a staple of "The Midnight Special" on WFMT, as were
repeats of Studs Terkel's interviews with him. Veterans of the old Gate
of Horn
and the early days of Second City still tell stories of this consummate
madman
who created a blend of hipster talk, savage satire of American race relations
and
politics, and a devoted love of those earlier spinners of the limits of
the English
language--William Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe and the authors of the King
James Bible.
Born in a California mining town in 1906 as Richard
Buckley and reborn as His Lordship in the early 1950s after
years of emceeing in Chicago speakeasies, strip joints and
jazz clubs, Buckley died in New York in 1960 from some
combination of drink, drugs and a lifetime of being
different.
In the words of his disciple, the late comic jester Del Close,
"The cat was so heavy, he just fell off the face of the Earth."
Buckley wore his own version of white tie and tails, spoke in a voice that
recalled
the meeting of a black jazz musician and a British earl, and in his rants,
raves and
monologues, anticipated the acid trip.
In his fevered and generous mind, there was no distinction between performance
and real life, and anyone he met was dubbed a member of his "royal court"
of
"lords, ladies, princes and studs."
Writer Charles Pike steeped himself in the Buckley legend over the last
few years
to create "The Return of the Hip Messiah." Under the good offices of Prop
Thtr
Group, he had hoped to see the work staged by Close himself. But Prince
Del,
too, shuffled off this mortal coil, and ringmaster duties fell to another
of
Buckley's mental heirs, comedian-actor Aaron Freeman.
"Messiah" has as its center Buckley's final performances on his "Cosmic
Tour,"
including dates secured in Chicago by Close and the equally other-worldly
Severn Darden. It offers a mixture of Buckley's riffs--on the life of Jesus
("the
Nazz"), his satirical sung salute to "The Policeman" and his memorials
to victims
of Southern white racism--and an attempt to re-create the swirl of his
misfitdom
and decline.
Veteran area actor Richard Henzel gives an astonishing performance that
seems
more an act of channeling than character portrayal. His swirl of words
and
concentrated physicality is one of the season's great accomplishments.
When he
"hips you to something" about life or love, the intervening decades seem
to
vanish like smoke.
Freeman and his supporting cast capture the circuslike atmosphere that
surrounded Buckley but have a harder time breathing life into such characters
as
Darden and Close, who need portrayals on Henzel's level. Exceptions are
James
Eldrenkamp's Ed Sullivan, loyal to his old USO buddy until the end, and
the
inexhaustible Eli Goodman as Buckley's sidekick, Prince Louis.
As emcees on the "Cosmic Tour" put it--"You dug him before. Re-dig him now."
Jack Helbig, Chicago Daily Herald:
Hot tip: Before Chris Rock, before George Carlin, before even
Lenny Bruce, there was Lord Buckley, king of the beat comics, the
lord of the cats, the "hip messiah," who, in the late '40s and '50s
pushed the limits of comedy. He turned his nightclub act into
wacked out performance art pieces, long before anyone else even
dreamed it was possible to do more than stand on stage and tell
jokes.
Charles Pike's new play, "The Return of the Hip Messiah" at
Second City's Skybox Theatre tells the story of Lord Buckley's life
and sorrowful death. The production is not perfect and Pike's
play could use some editing and restructuring.
But the show contains some incredible material, including
selections from Buckley's nightclub act. Richard Henzel, a master
of disguise, makes a compelling, wonderful, hilarious Lord
Buckley.
Chicago Tribune:
Subversive comedians have long searched for alternatives to punch lines
and the sanitized humor of contemporary manners. Since at least the 1920s,
progressive American monologists have tried to be as darkly funny as possible
without being so crass as to tell an actual joke. So anyone who wallows
into the world of alternative comedy finds a place when the constrictions
of genre are as confused as the division between laughter and pain.
This esoteric and undeniably dangerous world is what spawned such heart-wrenching comedians as Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor and John Belushi, guys who lived on the edge and told the truth about their narrow ledges. And in the 1950s, it also produced Lord Buckley, the enigmatic subject of Charles Pike's fascinating new biographical comedy, "The Hip Messiah," which is on view at Donny's Skybox in Piper's Alley, courtesy of the Prop Theatre.
This fake nobleman was actually the royal alter ego of one Richard Buckley, a hip but bizarre fellow whose routine was something of a cross between the verbal jazz improv beloved of the beats, and a character-based comic who loved to play with words.
Depending on your point of view, Buckley was either a genius, a drunkard, nuts or all three. But as depicted in an intensely impressive stream-of-consciousness performance from the superbly cast Richard Henzel, Buckley was also an arresting performer who peppered his monologues with equal measures of Shakespearean quotation and drug-induced nonsense.
In a career that included spots on "The Ed Sullivan Show" (where he toned down his routines), Buckley also worked at Second City in the early 1960s with a young comedian named Del Close.The late Chicago improv guru (nicely played by Peter DeFaria) is a character in Pike's show, along with Buckley's wife--a.k.a. Lady Elizabeth--and other members of his retinue, including the mimetic and sycophantic Prince Louis (played by the terrific Eli Goodman).
Some of Pike's scenes (especially Buckley's interactions with Close) will be fascinating to anyone associated with the improv scene in this town but may seem too insiderish to others. There are also some broader problem's with Pike's script, which cannot quite decide whether to proceed in a straightforward biographical style or to re-create the twisted recesses of Buckley's mind. The author might also have offered more expansive detail as to why Buckley's marriage fell apart. (Amy Wilhoite is terrific as Lady Elizabeth but she has too little to do.)
Directed with aplomb by Aaron Freeman, "The Hip Messiah" is an
engaging evening that will fascinate anyone who remembers the real Buckley
and intrigue folks with an interest in the progressive comedy that preceded
the coining of the term. As for the central performer, Henzel's work on
the Chicago fringes has been interesting for years, but in his depiction
of the Hip Messiah, he seems to have found his true calling.
--Chris Jones, Chicago Tribune
New City
First workshopped earlier this year as part of Prop THTR's New
Plays '99 Festival, "The Return of the Hip Messiah" is a loving tribute
to one crazy--and I mean crazy--cat, Lord Richard Buckley. A friend of
jazz men and Ed Sullivan alike, Buckley was a tireless orator and toker
who changed the face of American comedy with his sharp, be-bop inspired
dissertations on faith, race and art. Focusing on Buckely's short-lived
stint at Second City (cavorting with our own recently deceased prince Del
Close), Charles Pike's generous and rich script lovingly treats Buckley's
tirades like gospel. Director Aaron Freeman delicately creates a charmingly
nostalgic urban circus world for Buckley to rule--sweetly mesmerizing,
yet as sharp as a broken bottle around the edges. As his Lordship, Richard
Henzel is a powerhouse performer, capturing Buckely's magnificent mania
with every tireless breath. His mismatched posse combines gentle clowning
and slick humor with equal talent. The show can be a bit disorienting if
you're not hip to Buckley's life, and much of Pike's tight dialogue gets
lost under the hush of the rather noisy furnace. But even so,"Hip Messiah"
is a beautiful trip into one mans' contagious and pure madness.
--Nicole Bernardi-Reis, Chicago New
City
The Chicago Reader
Charles Pike's cabaret-theater piece, directed by Aaron Freeman, chronicles
the last months of hipster comic Lord Buckley: his 1960 sojourn in Chicago,
where he joined Second City members Severn Darden and Del Close in a stand-up
act at the Gate of Horn nightclub, and his subsequent move to New York,
where the 54-year-old Buckley died under mysterious circumstances--Pike's
play suggests that police brutality was involved. The main draw of this
spotty but engaging show is actor Richard Henzel's brilliant re-creation
of Buckley's manic free-associative routines, many of which used Amos 'n'
Andy-style humor to simultaneously satirize and exploit racial stereotypes.
Henzel's Buckley comes off as a sort of cross between minstrel-show clown,
jazz poet, and Frank Morgan's Wizard of Oz--an enigmatic eccentric whose
grandiose airs mix put-on with self-delusion. The supporting cast includes
graceful Eli Goodman as Buckley's mostly mute sidekick Prince Louis, Tania
Richard as Buckley's exotic-dancer companion, Jonathan Lavan as Darden,
and Peter DeFaria as Close--who was originally slated to direct this play
until mortal illness intervened. Susan Kaip's set evokes the cultural and
political background with images of Elvis Presley, Martin Luther King Jr.,
and a billboard advertising "Sputnikburgers." The result is quirky entertainment--but
Pike's peek into Buckley's private life needs much more development to
make this portrait of a cult figure as compelling as it has the potential
to be.
-- Albert Williams, Chicago Reader