Brother Theodore (1906-2001) was one of the most unique performers of the twentieth century. He was a stand-up comedian of sorts, an occasional actor and frequent presence on late night talk shows. Just don’t call him a monologist – “When someone calls me a monologist my first reaction is to
jump
on him, and tear out his
guts
!”, he once said to
Fangoria
editor Bob Martin. The singular strain that ran through these various endeavors was a passion for the macabre that would have done Tod Browning proud. Ironically his real life story was more horrifying than anything Hollywood could have conjured.
Theodore Gottlieb was born into wealthy and well-connected circumstances in Dusseldorf, in what was then the German Reich of Kaiser Wilhelm II. His family published magazines and art books in addition to owning a textile factory. The young Theodore was beguiled by the array of German generals and admirals that would congregate at the home of his parents, wanting nothing more than to be a stiff-necked Prussian lieutenant in the Erich Von Stroheim style. Too young to serve in World War I, Theodore’s personal fortune shielded him from the tumultuous circumstances of late 1920s, early 1930s Germany. For him it was a time of wine, women and song.
This course of events was interrupted in 1933 with the ascension of Hitler to supreme power in Germany. Theodore and his family were Jewish. The family fortune was confiscated by the state and Theodore was imprisoned in Dachau concentration camp. The horrors he witnessed here would color the rest of his life. Getting out by the skin of his teeth via a refugee program and with some help from Albert Einstein (a family friend), Theodore fled to England and then America.
Theodore first settled in California and, now penniless, had to make due with menial jobs and chess hustling. He began acting, his short stature and scowling visage making him a natural for character roles, and managed to appear in small roles in films like
The Stranger
(1946), becoming a favorite of Orson Welles, and
So Dark the Night
(1946). He took up performance art in the late 1940s, probably as much to express the darkness within as to make a living, finding his groove reciting poetry and monologues in a distinctly grotesque vein. Edgar Allan Poe’s
Berenice
was a particular favorite. These recitals would be performed on a stark black stage, with Theodore in plain black clothes illuminated only by a spotlight. In the noirish world of postwar America, Theodore hearkened back to Dr. Caligari and Charles Baudelaire.
Theodore moved to New York, where he found his greatest success as a performer in Manhattan coffee houses and other venues that appealed to a beatnik aesthetic. His shows would often begin at midnight and now, in addition to the recitals of Poe and Saki, featured a great deal of macabre wit. Instead of the audience heckling the performer, Theodore would often pick on a member of the audience to subject to a withering tide of Teutonic fury. “Because of your insolence the German national anthem will be omitted tonight!” He became a regular on television talk shows hosted by the likes of Mike Douglas and Merv Griffin, always in the distinctive black turtleneck which led to his being dubbed “Brother” Theodore. In later years he
was a fixture and foil on
Late Night with David Letterman
, making dozens of eccentric appearances.
It was natural that such a person would find his way to Forrest J Ackerman and
Famous Monsters of Filmland
. Forry and his wife Wendayne corralled around themselves a host of fascinating figures from the world of the arts and Theodore often visited them whenever he found himself in Los Angeles. And like Bela Lugosi before him, Theodore was amazed by the extent of the Ackerman Archives. A favorite bit of Theodorian wit that Forry loved to recite: “My mother tried to abort me with a knitting needle in the womb. But I fooled her! It went through my
glass eye
!”
In the end Theodore did manage a horror stardom of sorts in
Nocturna: Granddaughter of Dracula
(1979), appearing as himself alongside John Carradine as Dracula. Here Theodore delivers what might be the most memorable take on Renfield since Dwight Frye. A brooding, resentful soul in torment who plots against his master when not lusting after his granddaughter, Nocturna (Nai Bonet, who also produced). Theodore also narrated Al Adamson’s
Horror of the Blood Monsters
(1970) as well as the U.S. trailers for
House by the Cemetery
(1981) and
Superstition
(1982). Joe Dante put Theodore to spectacular use in his dark comedy
The ‘Burbs
(1989). Here, in his final film appearance, Theodore portrayed Uncle Reuben Klopek, who, along with his psychotic family, gives Tom Hanks and Bruce Dern much to worry about. In addition to this, Theodore compiled an anthology of horror stories in 1975 titled
Brother Theodore’s Chamber of Horrors
, contributing an original tale to the mix,
The Possession of Immanuel Wolf
, co-authored by Marvin Kaye.
Theodore passed away in 2001 following several years of ill health. He was a great friend of
Famous Monsters
and all things macabre. He was a man who indeed gazed into the abyss – and the abyss gazed into him – and neither of them liked what he saw.