Sideshow 9: Born This Way

during the economic collapse. But Todd was also a superstitious man, so when he learned that the Roxy Theater in New York City wanted to release his film on Friday, he urged them to change the date. In the end, the Roxy granted Todd his wish. On Thursday, February twelfth of nineteen thirty one, movie goers packed sidewalks outside of the theater, hoping to snag tickets to his latest creation. For eighty five minutes that night, the audience found themselves transported to

a mountaintop in Europe. They were immersed in a powerful visual spectacle, complete with clever cinematography, haunting soundscapes, and Bella Lagosi's legendary method acting how legendary you ask, Well, when he died, he was buried in a black silk cape, just like his character in the film. And of course, Dracula was a smashing success. The film forever changed the

movies and the monsters we see there. It's reported, in fact, that numerous people in the opening night audience fainted from fright. While it's hard to imagine now, scary movies were major risks for studios back then, but in large part due to dracula success, movie makers realized something important. Fear makes money.

It was true then and it's still true today. The psychological effects of fight or flights can be intoxicating, after all, and who doesn't love a good adrenaline and dopamine brain cocktail, right, It's a trick of evolution. We like to be scared in tightly controlled settings. That is. In two thousand, Dracula was inducted into the National Film Registry by the Library of Congress. This was not, however, Todd Browning's first film

to be given that honor. A much more controversial flick of his was given the same treatment, a movie that featured a very special individual, a crossover actor who bridged both the world of the side Show and the world of the silver screen. A much beloved man who went by a single name, Schlitze. I'm Aaron Manky, and welcome to this side show. Everyone has gaps in their history, moments they can't recall, or other pieces of time that they've chosen to forget. I do, and you do, whether

you are consciously aware of it or not. These have been left on the cutting room floor of our lives. So resurrecting other people's stories, especially when they're long gone, creates a very particular kind of challenge. Sometimes all that's left of them is a fragment of a diary or an unset letter. Other times we can trace their names to a passenger list or a guest book at a hotel, or maybe we have an old photo album with missing

images or a few stray pieces of celluloid. And we never know the complete story of what was happening outside of this frame, but we can guess. What we do know is this, Like many of the performers who fell into the gravitational pull of the American Side Show, a great deal of Schlitze's life is undocumented. Those early years, it seems, have held tightly to their secrets. One theory tells us that he was born to a prominent Texan family and then kept in their attic for twenty five years.

Another says he hailed from New Mexico. More than likely, though, he was born in the Bronx in New York in nineteen o one, and if the sleuths are correct, he had another name first, Simon Metz. We also know something else. He was born with a severe case of microcephaly, a neurodevelopmental disorder that gave his skull a pointed shape. He

had a limited cognitive capacity and a sunny nature. We like to think that his first few years were relatively happy, and we'd hope for this for any kid, but it's in his childhood. Historians believe that he was sold to the side show. It seems the old joke of selling your little brother to the circus has very deep and very dark real life roots, but it wasn't uncommon. In fact,

sideshow managers often recruited new acts from vulnerable families. They made it seem like they were doing the family a favor or acting in their best interest, and there may have been some truth to this. At a time when social services to poor families were limited, and those with a typical neurological functions had fewer resources. Living was hard. There's an argument to be made that for some the

side show was a saving grace. Simon began his life on the road with Stephen and Augusta Mills in nineteen o nine. It's here that he became someone totally new. His first incarnation would be Schlitzy the Aztec. Sometimes he was dressed as a girl. At other times he wore a fur body suit posed as a half human half monkey, one of nature's honest experiments with the brain the size of a golf ball. He was marketed as savage and would sometimes be displayed behind bars. Part of Schlitze's act

was answering questions posed by the showman. He did simple math and card tricks. He was billed as wild so that those feats would seem even more impressive. At the time, America was still fascinated by ideas of evolution and the search for the missing link, a favorite trope of Barnum's, and the legacy that he left behind, Let's See quickly gained the adoration of his fellow performers. While his work

largely consisted of him being jeered at. It was also on the side show circuit that he found his chosen family, and even though his speech was limited, he gave that love back in kind. In schlets was sold to a man named Ted Metz no relation that we know of, who operated the Frequatorium at the Dreamland side show at Coney Island. There, he and a fellow performer who had also been born with microcephaly, a fellow by the name of Zip, performed a musical duet together. But schlet See

wouldn't stay on the East Coast for long. You see, his manager was based in California and soon decided that they were going to take their show to that side of the country. It seems the Coney Island boardwalks weren't big enough for him. No, he was going to go west to Hollywood, in fact, because Schlitze wanted to become a star. Todd Browning had once been a living corpse. When he was sixteen, he fell in love and joined

the Manhattan Fair and Carnival Company. He worked as a snake eater and escape artist, a clown, and even a contortionist. His famous corpse act, though involved him being buried alive, for up to forty eight hours at a time. It's fair to say that he had done it all. So after Dracula's commercial success and critical acclaim, Todd Browning decided that he would work on something a bit closer to home. He had an idea that he'd been thinking about for a long time, and when he pitched it to MGM,

they gave him their blessing. But they wanted him to film his concept as a horror movie, so that's what they were going to get. It would be a movie about seduction, murder, and revenge, all set upon the backdrop of the side show, and Todd wanted real performers in his cast. I think it's safe to say that he had good intentions, but that, as they say, is what the road to Hell is paved with. It was through Hollywood Small Network that Todd met Schlitze and they took

a liking to each other immediately. He was cast alongside sideshow performers from across the country, Johnny Eck the Half Boy, Prince Randy and the Human Caterpillar, Pete Robinson the Living Skeleton, Olga the Bearded Woman, and Cuckoo the bird Girl. The movie was named Freaks and it was the first Hollywood production for many of the performers involved. Now, of course, that title is a word that has certainly fallen out of fashion since then. Scholars believe that it comes from

an old English word meaning something unusual or fancy. But by the mid eighteen hundreds, the phrase freak of nature had become a popular advertising slogan within side shows. In fact, many in the community at the time, the term freak was worn as a badge of honor. For a lot of these performers. Their shows allowed them to make an honorable living. It gave them a chance to travel, to be employed, and to find family. But as we'll see, Todd's film in many ways helped us cement the word

as something a bit more sinister in mainstream America. As filming began in November of nine, the side show performers came to the set. Several MGM employees and actors, having never seen folks with such a spectrum of physical conditions, were overwhelmed nauseated. Even among this weak, stomached group was none other than f Scott Fitzgerald, who, while also drinking heavily, apparently vomited after seeing conjoined twins Daisy and Violet Hilton

in the studios dining hall. After this, the side show performers were banished to an outside table. The film had a remarkably quick production schedule. It wrapped in just a month and prom mirrored a little over a month after that to a tittering crowd in San Diego. But just halfway through the preview people got up and ran out. You might be asking why, Well, one newspaper wrote, and I quote for pure sensationalism, freaks tops any picture yet produced.

It's more fantastic and grotesque than any shocker ever written. One woman in the audience, who had been pregnant at the time, apparently threatened to sue MGM, claiming the film had induced a miscarriage and the film was indeed violent. So the studio decided to recut it as an attempt to salvage it. But these new editorial decisions meant to rectify the problem, ended up creating a new monster because

it fundamentally changed the story and the message. You see, Todd's goal had been to critique social intolerance, the exact kind of social intolerance that had played out on his set. That in the widely distributed recut. Moments that let the freaks shine and showcase their humanity were lost, and scenes where the quote normal humans revealed themselves to be disgusting

creatures were similarly removed. The studio even tried to counter the revulsion felt by the public with a new advertising blitz, What about abnormal people? Their posters asked, they have lives too. In the end, MGM resorted the old tricks of the side show trade. They published new show bills that emphasized the incredible strangeness of the characters, and even included some of the same warnings that Barnum and his contemporaries had used.

Warning the ad said children positively not admitted adults not in normal health are advised not to see this picture. Offended reviewers responded by voicing their complaints. Major outlets called the film unkind and brutal, loathsome obscene, grotesque, and bizarre. One review even said that anyone who considers this entertainment should be placed in the pathological ward in some hospital. It is not fit to be shown anywhere. In the end,

the film was a complete and total flop. It recorded a loss that would amount to almost three million dollars today. But looking back, we can glimpse the canary in the coal mine. It seems that maybe, just maybe, the times were changing, and Schlitze was that the center of it all. Freaks had failed in the theaters, but it succeeded in getting people talking. Schlitz thankfully had the benefit of a

career beyond Hollywood. He took to the road once more, covering territory that certainly makes me envious, criss crossing North America, writing the rails and finding friends and good fortune along the way. He had witnessed the popularity of sideshows peak in his lifetime, but he would also get mixed up

in the institution's demise. In nineteen thirty six, Schlitze's manager, Ted Mets, took over management for the side show of a New Circus, and it was during his year's touring with them that Schlitze men a man named George Surtees.

That same year, George and his wife Dottie became Schlitze's legal guardians, becoming in effect both Schlitze's parents and managers, and he continued to tour with them well into the nineteen forties, joining a group of performers that included the Three Legged Frank Lentini and Grady Styles the Lobster Boy. By the mid nineteen fifties, other carnival companies began exhibiting Schlitzi lookalikes, at times even giving their knockoffs the exact

same name. Honestly, the practice was true side show energy. If ever, there was some elements were added to Schlitze's act along the way, because, as you know by now, part of the side show game was to stay relevant. In one advertisement from July of nineteen sixty two, Schlitze was billed as the oldest human side show attraction in America. The article even claimed that he was first exhibited at the Buffalo World's Fair in nineteen o one, when President

McKinley was assassinated. By this time, though, attitudes towards sideshow acts and human oddities in particular, we're changing. In March of nineteen sixty two, officials in San Bernardino County, California, closed down two different side show exhibits at the National Orange Show. Police cited a law from the eighteen hundreds that prohibited exhibiting deformed persons for profits, and Schlitze's act became collateral damage during that same decade, Schlitze was exhibited

as the last of the Aztecs. The problem, of course, was that the Bakersfield area of California, where Schlitzy was spending time on the carnival circuit, was home to a significant population of Mexican Americans who strongly objected to Schlitze's as tech title. More and more, it was becoming increasingly difficult for human oddity acts to get permission to perform, and there was a general growing distaste for such shows

even when they were permitted. Some side shows eliminated these acts altogether and focused instead on the self made freaks, the snake charmers, the knife throwers, and the flame eaters. Others made the switch to pictures of human oddities, including Schlitze, instead of the real thing. The tectonic plates of culture were shifting. The only world Schlitze had ever known was slowly being taken away from him, his friends, his chosen family,

even his ability to make a living. He was in his sixties at this point, but he wasn't ready to quit, at least not willingly. In April of nineteen sixty, George died, leaving his daughter legally in charge of Schlitze. She had always disliked him, maybe the only person who had, it seems, and she didn't know how to care for someone with his special needs, so she decided to put him away,

having him institutionalized at the Los Angeles County Hospital. And I can't imagine how hard this must have been for him. Schlitze was a deeply social person who had spent his life around other people on stage and among friends, and

now he was all alone. But in a small world twist of fate, it just so happened that Bill Unk's sword swallower worked as an orderly at the very same hospital during the off season, and one day, as Unks was cleaning a hallway, he heard a familiar catchphrase, someone repeating over and over you see, you see, and he recognized the voice and the phrase immediately as Schlitze, and when Unks found him, he was nearly catatonic. Unks quickly discovered that his friend had been there for seven months.

He wanted to help, and figured the only way to do so was to get Schlitze out of the hospital and back onto the circuit. With Unk's help, he was able to leave and returned to the side show in late nineteen sixty and with that, finally he was back among family, which brings us full circle. I think you see.

While there are valid critiques to be made about the inherent dehumanization of the formers in quote Freak Shows, there is also a complicated tension in Schlitzey's life story that calls for a closer, more nuanced look, because when his parents sold him to the side show, they quite possibly provided him with the happiest and most independent life possible for someone like him at the time. It was that same lack of options that led George's daughter to institutionalize Schlitze,

an option that ended up making him deeply unhappy. Even the doctors of the hospital knew that if he stayed there rather than being released, it's possible that he would have died from heartbreak. But thankfully that's not where we're going to leave him today. Picture this. We're in MacArthur Park in Los Angeles, sitting on a bench in the setting sun. The sky has that golden pink glow broken up by rows of palm trees, and the air is warm. It's nineteen seventy and schlitze now lives close by with

his caretaker. As the sun sets on his life, and it's there that he could be found feeding the animals with handful of sunflower seeds. All of the ducks, according to him, were named tam Robert, and all of the pigeons, he said, were called Alan bar Allen. The Spanish speaking locals of the park called him raton Cito, a pet name meaning little mouse. Sometimes they would even buy him a treat. And it's there, in a place where he was loved and happy, that he would live out the

rest of his days. Schlitzi passed away quietly in his old age, but today he lives on in Hollywood. As the decades ticked by the same impulse that brought folks to the side show was now driving them to the theater. Movie attendants increased with every passing decade, and it's easy to see why people didn't have to wait for circus

trains to roll through town anymore. In the same way that Barnum and his cronies had constantly reinvented their acts, Hollywood had begun making money by churning out news stories with the same actors again and again and again. In nineteen sixty two, Freaks was screened at the Venice Film Festival, but this time to highly critical reviews. Enough had changed culturally in those thirty intervening years that new audiences were

able to see the film in a fresh light. As the kids say these days, it hit just a bit differently. Looking back, critics now recognized the film and its early reception as a cultural touchstone, a snapshot of a moment in time, and freaks reappearance also meant a resurgence of interest in and appreciation for Schltzie and cemented him within

the broader consciousness of pop culture. In Freaks was selected by the National Film Registry as one of the most influential films of all time, six years before Dracula was given the same honor, which is somewhat ironic, and that it was the success of Dracula that made it possible for Todd Brown to make Freaks in the first place. In return, Freaks had more or less ruined his career, but thankfully notch Letsie's. We hope you've enjoyed this little

bit of movie history so far. It's fascinating just how connected today's world of entertainment is to the side shows of the past, for better or for worse. But we're not done just yet. Stick around through this brief sponsor break to hear one more tale of the side show. It was their smallest Sunday crowd yet, roughly a quarter of a million people. Coney Island had opened to the public just two years before in and the subway line had finally extended far enough to bring the Maths out

of the city. Sometimes more than a million people might show up to lounge in the sun. Seven year old Irene Reynolds was one of those people. She and her family had planned to take full advantage of their beach day. Even though the skies above were gray. It was going to be a chance for everyone to kick their feet up, to relax, to play. Irene never intended to drown. According to eyewitness accounts, The wave that came for her was

huge and quick. It crested and slammed, sweeping her off her feet and dragging her under, allowing only a moment for her screams to escape, and when Zip heard them, he turned and he began to run. Zip, who was born William Henry Johnson, was a local celebrity. He was a fixture at Coney Island's Dreamland side Show that year, and just like let's see, he had been born with microcephaly. He was a small man. During his time with P. T. Barnum,

he was often marketed as the missing Link. He later made his way to Coney Island and his character evolved there Over the years. It's been said that he never spoke, and that his careful adherence to his vow of silence helped prolong his career. But on this day, words didn't matter, only speed. He quickly made it to the shoreline and into the water, diving through the waves to reach Irene. He grabbed her and he pulled her back onto the sand. Within a few moments she had come to coughing and

sputtering and convulsive, back to life. If Zip hadn't already been a local hero, he sure was now. Zip, the newspapers reported, almost wilted under the cheers of the crowd, and honestly, I can't blame him. Years later, it would be estimated that he had been seen in person by more people than anyone else who would ever lived, close to one hundred million folks. By some accounts, his career

was long and illustrious and highly successful. In fact, Zip will go on to perform well into his sixties, his hallmark silence was one of the things that set him apart from everyone else. But some Starcus veterans believe that this was a creation of Barnum's, but one that Zip stuck to for his whole life. So who was he really? Was he a man who had been exploited for six decades or was he a true method actor, committed to

his form and to always staying in character. Did he have a deep understanding of how to market himself and what it would take for him to be a rousing success us. A year after Irene's rescue, Zip died at New York's Bellevue Hospital. As a story goes, his sister was at his bedside as he lay dying, and in his final moments he turned to her. He had something to say. Well, he told her, we fooled them for

a long time. Huh. Side Show was written by Robin Minat with narration by me Aaron Mankey research for the series was by Robin Minator, Taylor Haggard Dorn, and Sam Alberty, with production assistants from Josh Thayne, Jesse Funk, Alex Williams and Matt Frederick Grim and Mile Presents was created in partnership with I Heart Radio. You can learn more about this show and everything else from Grim and mild Over at Grim and mild dot com, and, as always, thanks for listening. Boo old old