Drink 46: The Day The Clown Cried

The Name: The Day The Clown Cried                                                                                

The Bar: Fig. 19 (131½ Chrystie St., NYC)

The Story Behind The Name: If you've never heard of The Day The Clown Cried, then you are in for a treat. It's a title of a movie, and it's a movie that I and many others are obsessed, despite the fact that almost no one has ever seen it. Let me explain.

In 1972, actor, director, and comedian Jerry Lewis was already firmly established and beloved by many for his broad physical comedy. But, Lewis was feeling a bit unsatisfied as an artist. Sure, people loved his comedy, but he wanted to prove he was a serious actor too. And so he set out writing, directing, and starring in a movie called The Day The Clown Cried. It was going to be his foray into the world of drama. Like Steve Carell in Foxcatcher, but if Steve Carell's performance had been horribly, horribly offensive.

How bad could it be, you ask? Let me just briefly summarize the plot. The Day The Clown Cried is about a German circus clown named Helmut Doork. After learning he is going to be fired from his job, he is thrown into a concentration camp for being a political prisoner after drunkenly mocking Hitler in a bar. It only gets worse from here, folks, so, buckle your seatbelts. Doork tries to entertain the rest of the prisoners, but it turns out he's a really bad clown so they all hate him. Although, to be fair, prisoners in a concentration camp are probably going to be a tough audience. But even though the other prisoners hate him, a group of Jewish children at the other side of the camp actually seem to like Doork's routine. Doork continues to perform for them, not because he's trying to cheer them up, but because they're the only people who actually think he's funny. The Nazi guards, seeing that the Jewish kids like him, enlist Doork to help them. Doork is assigned to help load the kids onto a bus, and then off the bus and into the gas chamber where they will be killed. I told you to buckle your seatbelts. The film ends with Doork deciding to go into the gas chamber with them since they're the only people who think he's funny. As he and the children are killed, he begins to cry. And that's why it's The Day The Clown Cried.

I shouldn't have to explain why this is atrocious. this is such a terrible idea, and the fact that Jerry Lewis put so much time and money into this film is mind-boggling. Again, he wrote, directed, and starred in this and genuinely thought it would be a potential Oscar-winner. Fortunately (or unfortunately) he had a change of heart. After he finished putting the film together, he watched it all the way through. Apparently, it suddenly dawned on him that this was a complete disaster and if it was ever released, he would be absolutely ruined. Because the premise of this film really is one of the worst things I've ever heard. Knowing this, Lewis has gone through great pains to ensure that the film never sees the light of day.

Jerry Lewis, filming The Day The Clown Cried

But word travels fast, and The Day The Clown Cried has become a thing of legend. Think about the cult following of The Room, but through in a movie that just might be worse, and add in the mystery factor. It's essentially the Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster of the cinematic world. And, just like with those mythical beasts, little glimpses of the film have been released. Every so often, a new piece of footage is released. And a full screenplay was released at one point. Before he became famous, comedian Patton Oswalt actually brought together a group of his friends to hold regular readings of the scripts aloud. But, and this is how seriously Jerry Lewis takes this, Oswalt had to stop because Lewis sent lawyers after Oswalt with a cease and desist order. Honestly, it's Lewis' reactions to the whole thing that make this such a thing of legend. There are unfinished films all over the place, but none that have been so disavowed by its creator.

If you're as fascinated by this movie as I am (I've always been a lover of really bad art), I encourage you to do more research on the film on your own because it really is extraordinary. For now, I'll just leave you with this quote from comedian Harry Shearer, who has somehow seen a rough-cut of the movie. Of The Day The Clown Cried, he said:

With most of these kinds of things, you find that the anticipation, or the concept, is better than the thing itself. But seeing this film was really awe-inspiring, in that you are rarely in the presence of a perfect object. This was a perfect object. This movie is so drastically wrong, its pathos and its comedy are so wildly misplaced, that you could not, in your fantasy of what it might be like, improve on what it really is. "Oh My God!"—that's all you can say.

I hoped that any drink I ordered with this name might live up to the same awe-inspiring nature.

Also, it's worth noting that Lewis recently softened his strict declarations that the film would never be seen. Supposedly, he said he'd consider letting the film be released, but only ten years after his death. Hey, it's better than nothing.

Ordering The Drink: In my last post, I talked about ordering The Christopher Walken Duck Joke with my friend Pat. We had enjoyed drinking at The Ship very much, but decided that the night was still young and we wanted to head elsewhere. After wandering around aimlessly for a bit looking for a bar, we decided to not just leave things to chance and researched places in the area. Pat found out about a place called Fig. 19, and while neither of us had heard of it, we decided to give it a try based on positive online reviews.

It turns out we maybe should have done more research because we had a hard time finding it. Fig. 19 is a hidden bar behind the wall of an art gallery. You never would have known it was there if you were just passing by, which is of course the point of a hidden bar.

Pat, looking for the door that is literally right behind him.

Once we finally found the door to the bar, we entered and knew we'd come to a great place. It truly feels like a secret--completely isolated from the world. I even love that the building number is 131½! More importantly, the cocktails are really great. The menu sounded fascinating, and the two drinks that Pat and I ordered to start were phenomenal. Pat's drink was called The Red Leaf, a stunning drink made from whiskey, vermouth, sherry, absinthe, and--most intriguingly--red wine reduction. I don't think I've ever had a drink so alcoholic that's also so smooth. And, as someone who loves absinthe, this might have been one of the best absinthe cocktails I've ever had--it snuck in at the end as a deliciously licorice aftertaste. It got better and better with every sip. I, meanwhile, got a drink called The Vanishing Point, a scrumptious dessert cocktail with a base of vanilla bean and cinnamon infused gin, which tasted like a more autumnal and sophisticated version of eggnog. Upon tasting it, Pat claimed it might just be one of the top ten cocktails he'd ever tasted. The cocktails were so good, we essentially shared both drinks because we were unable to stick to one.

It was clear that our bartender was a skilled mixologist, and she was also very friendly, so I was sure she'd go along with the weird drink idea. She was certainly amused by the request for The Day The Clown Cried, and set about putting the drink together. Meanwhile, Pat got a second Red Leaf because it was so good that he couldn't even be tempted by the other intriguing options on the menu.

 

The Drink:

Rye (or, to quote the bartender, a LOT of rye)

Aperol

Amaro

Lemon Juice

Maraschino Cherries

Orange Peel 

Assessment of Drink: This was fantastic. We already knew from The Red Leaf that our bartender was skilled at making a strong drink that still tasted balanced, and she proved it yet again. She explained that this was her twist on a cocktail called a Paper Plane. The only difference (aside from the creative garnish) was that she swapped the traditional bourbon out for rye, and added a lot more of the rye than you ordinarily would get, and which I certainly appreciated. The use of rye ended up being a really smart choice. Rye tends to be a little spicier and have a bit more of a bite to it than regular whiskeys, which made the drink decidedly sharper than it would have been with bourbon. Pat told me that he usually wasn't a big fan of rye, but agreed with me that it was the perfect choice here, and I appreciated that it was really brought to the forefront.

Does It Live Up To The Name: Our bartender explained that her intention was to make a drink that was both whimsical and sorrowful to try and fit the name, and she got that here. The aperol is sweet, and the amaro is bitter (amaro literally means "bitter"), so the interplay between them really creates an intriguing balance. You can see the fun of the clown, and also the bitterness of the tears. This drink represented the bartender's intentions beautifully.

And then, there was that garnish. As soon as our bartender put the drink down, I said, "Are the cherries the clown nose?" and her face lit up. "You got it!" she said. Of course, I was kind of cheating, since this was also done on a previous clown-themed drink I've ordered. Although this time, they were the really great high-quality cherries, which are always a treat. I also like that she put a cherry on each side of the orange peel. If the peel represents the clown's mouth as it did in my mind, I was imagining that depending on which cherry was the nose, this clown was smiling or frowning. Does that make sense? Whatever, it made sense to me.

All in all, I could see a clown ordering this on a particularly sad day. And I know that should The Day The Clown Cried ever get a release, I will definitely order a Paper Plane, but with a double rye instead of bourbon.