On Lon Chaney

I am reflecting on our cultural debt to Lon Chaney, Sr.

Leonidas Chaney was born on April Fools' Day, 1883, in Colorado Springs, Colorado. His parents were both deaf-mute; his father, a barber, was well-loved for his ability to transcend communication barriers and amuse his patrons with his excellent comedic timing. Lon was a native speaker of pantomime, a natural artist in physical and facial communication. Before immersing himself in Vaudeville at age 19, Lon trained in wallpaper, drapery, and carpet installation and worked as a tour guide at Pikes Peak.

Lon Chaney did not consider himself primarily an actor. Instead, he considered his entertainment art to be disguise through makeup. All his appearances are dual performances-- he designed his own makeup, costumes, and contortion equipment The genius of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and The Phantom of the Opera are his; and, interestingly, so were their pains. The hunchback's hump weighed in excess of fifty pounds, designed by Lon himself to inspire a tortured performance. In The Penalty, he tied his legs behind his back and used prosthetics below the knee. "The Man With a Thousand Faces," though evidently in favor of a broader approach to representation than simple disguise, was widely recognized as a world expert on makeup; the Encyclopaedia Brittanica reportedly invited him to write its (uncredited and since revised) article on the subject. Such was his reputation for disguise that a friend quipped at a dinner party: "don't step on that spider, it may be Lon Chaney."

As Hollywood transitioned to talkies, Lon mused that his voice was ill-suited to the medium. It may have been false modesty or reflective of an insecurity with voice in general, as he is said to have had a delightful rich baritone, and was known as a Vaudevillian for his singing, dancing, and comedic timing. He starred in only one talkie, but it is tantalizing to think that that it is his voice work in that film which is so notable. Later, he signed a statement saying that he did indeed provide the voices of five characters: a ventriloquist and his dummy, an old woman, a girl, and a parrot. The performances were convincing enough, I suppose, to warrant the affidavit.

I find it ironic that he died of a throat hemorrhage just months after the release of that film. His voice was apparently an untapped treasure itself; a voice he did not get to show off in his childhood or in his career.

Lon Chaney, my friends.
Celebrate him this Halloween.
I also suggest naming a son Leonidas.