Tiny Tim: King for a Day

The documentary few knew they were waiting on, "King For a Day" is an intriguing chronicle of a most bizarre novelty act shooting star that flew, sparkled, burned bright and quickly. Tiny Tim remains an odd and utterly unforgettable memory for the majority of baby boomers who were there to witness the trajectory. Everyone else henceforth now gets a chance to catch up.

There's a lot to unpack here, and even at almost two hours, it barely scratches the surface, but for now, it will do. The foggy story of Herbert Butros Khaury is shrouded in mystery, but what we do know is that the falsetto singing, ukulele playing, kiss blowing, clownish hippie with exaggerated facial features and shoulder length mop, came prancing awkwardly out of nowhere to dominate late sixties television airwaves. Riding the inexplicable popularity of Vaudeville staple "Tiptoe Through the Tulips", Tiny Tim competed with Jimi Hendrix and The Rolling Stones on the charts, and became a staple darling on talk shows, culminating in his boffo rated wedding to Miss Vicky on the "Tonight Show".

Like a lousy cake, the fall was as quick as the rise, and the general public moved on. "King for a Day" mixes the super saturated boob tube coverage, fond remembrances of close friends, stark black and white animation of the early years, and grainy video footage of the rough last years. And though the tale answers a lot of questions, it digs up plenty more. The childhood years seem sketchy at best, based solely on Khaury's writings (narrated by Weird Al Yankovic, naturally), and it is never clear what is and isn' t fiction. The transition from a gig in a run down New York freak show to major network stardom on trend setting "Laugh-In" is never properly addressed. Was Khaury always in character? Was it a character? We may never know. Perhaps it is for the best.

The swift downfall is harsh, and presented in cruel fashion. Makes for good cinema, but the truth is that in latter years, Tiny Tim was being embraced by the alternative music scene, appearing in concert with Camper Van Beethoven, recording with the New Duncan Imperials, and releasing an outlandishly captivating Christmas album. His encyclopedic knowledge and love for old timey music is hinted at: Bob Dylan, an astute musical historian himself, wanted to make a film. There's just so much more to Tiny Tim's story (his skate with the Toronto Maple leafs!) that begs uncovering. Perhaps this is just part one in the series, and thus serves well as a tasty appetizer.

• hipCRANK.

Greetings again from the darkness. I'm not sure how many people under age 50 even know who Tiny Tim was. Perhaps they recall a mention of his most popular song "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" in one of the Harry Potter books, or remember hearing the song in the 2010 horror film INSIDIOUS; but if they happen to recognize his name, I expect very few in that age group understand the cultural phenomenon that was Tiny Tim ... albeit for a short period of time.

Filmmaker Johan von Sydow opens with a clip of Tiny Tim singing "I've Got You Babe", a hit song for Sonny and Cher. It's likely a jarring opening for those unfamiliar with him, but it captures his unique style and stage presence. Weird Al Yankovic is the narrator that guides us through the story, and there are interviews with Tiny Tim's widow Susan, his daughter Tulip (yep), and personality Wavy Gravy (best known for the WOODSTOCK movie), as well as friends, musicians, directors, and others who provide insight into the man and his life and career.

"Tiptoe through the Tulips" was actually a hit song from 1929, and Tiny Tim reinvented it as a novelty song - and we see the clip of him performing it in 1968 for a national audience on "Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In". Yankovic reads passages from Tiny Tim's diary, and we gain perspective on what it's like to go through life as a "freak". From the diary we learn, "God told me to sing the sissy way", and that was evidently his motivation for using the falsetto ... allowing him to be billed as "The Human Canary" early on. His first album, "God Bless Tiny Tim", was released in 1968, but it was the following year that caused the biggest splash. In December 1969, Tiny Tim married 17 year old Miss Vicki Budinger live on "The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson", and 45 million viewers tuned in.

Born in New York as Herbert Butros Khaury, he was focused at an early age on being famous - on making an impact. Carrying a shopping bag on stage and pulling out a ukulele, Tiny Tim crafted a stage persona that took over his life. Of course the thing about fame is that it's often fleeting. Director von Sydow pulls much of the story from the biography, "Eternal Troubadour: The Improbable Life of Tiny Tim", by Justin Martell and Alanna Wray Mcdonald. Sure, there's the photo by Diane Arbus, but there's also the mob control and gigs with the traveling circus. In 1995, he married lifelong fan Susan Gardner. This was the year before his death, and we see the clips of his time on stage as he has a heart attack, and just prior to his final collapse a couple of months later. How can so much sadness come from a man who entertained so many? We are reminded of the song, "Tears of a Clown", yet when one's goal is fame, the piper must be paid.

Being released in theaters on April 23, 2021.

I really enjoyed this documentary. I like how there is the use of animation along with interviews and real footage. I like that Weird Al narrates the parts of Tiny Tim's diary. I think the length was perfect because any longer it would have been mired down.

Young people won't know Tiny Tim, but for a brief period in the mid-to-late 1960s, he was such a big star that he was actually married (to his first wife) on "The Johnny Carson Show," the premiere late-night TV talk show in America at the time. Born Herbert Khoury in New York City of a Lebanese Christian father and a Russian Jewish mother in 1932, he endured a harsh childhood because his parents showed no love toward him and he was always, always weird. His need to express his authentic self, which was simultaneously batty, serious, male, female, and to the greatest height honest, brought him huge problems - but also his great success; there literally was nobody else like him. For a time in the 1960s, that great celebratory time of authentic selfhood, he was the most lauded artist in the land; for the rest of his life (he died of a heart attack in 1996), he was not. In some ways his later life was tragically sad, reduced to playing in circus carnivals (where he also got his start) or in high school auditoriums where teenagers laughed at him, but in other ways it was revelatory, because he could never stop being his authentic self. Some unsavory bits to his life, of course (as a woman I wasn't too happy with his attitudes towards women, for example, and his association with Mafia types was rather unfortunate), but overall this documentary shows the life of an exceptional man. The "inner voice" narrative, fittingly provided by Weird Al Yankovic, comes from Tim's own diaries, adding even greater understanding and pathos to this unique individual. Well worth a look; highly recommended!