He was a student of comedy, who honed his art to stay top of his profession.
Known as The Cheeky Chappie, cheekiness was a part of his stage persona. He wore clothes that no one else would wear and told jokes and stories that no one else would dare tell. Today he would be known as "edgy".
His comedy could be seen as timeless, he was the archetypal Court Jester with permission to wear what he liked and say what he liked, within reason. His character would not be out of place as a jester in a comedy by Shakespeare or Moliere.
With his persona the most innocent phrase could be seen as the rudest double entendre. His audience was his friend, I used the word "was" as he generally seemed to talk to the audience as a single person. He was sticking it to the man, the man being some mythical character off stage that Miller would occasionally check to see if he was listening before carrying on with his story.
With his persona the most innocent phrase could be seen as the rudest double entendre. His audience was his friend, I used the word "was" as he generally seemed to talk to the audience as a single person. He was sticking it to the man, the man being some mythical character off stage that Miller would occasionally check to see if he was listening before carrying on with his story.
He took the audience into his confidence, his act was almost a confidence trick, hoodwinking the audience into believing all his tales and laughing all the more for being allowed in on the jokes.
He could build a tension before he set foot on stage, such was the strength of his character. When he did appear, he would play on the tension, his longer jokes would start off slow, a little throwaway line along the way, building up more and more, getting nearer to the audience, reaching out to the crowd over the edge of the stage, checking backstage, pausing, pacing, bringing them in more until the crescendo of the punchline. Anyone who doesn't think telling a joke can be an art form has never watched Max Miller. Even in the little footage that exists you can see the mastery of Miller.
Max Miller died on May 7 1963 just as The Beatles were having their first number one hit single. He may not have reached the worldwide heights of the popularity of The Beatles but he remains as one of the greatest British entertainers and for 3 decades he sold out theatres across the UK as the number one comedian in the country.
Born in 1894, Miller was of the same generation as Charlie Chaplin and Stan Laurel, where Chaplin and Laurel had started as comedians early in life, Miller didn't get started in showbusiness until he was 26. Prior to this he had a series of jobs and also served in India and Mesopotamia during the First World War, he had brushes with entertaining and had held thoughts of singing and telling stories for a living. Such thoughts obviously fluorished during the war, alongside concert party performances, a determined Miller (still then known as Harry Sargent, his birth name) set off for London to start his stage career.
His first shot was in a talent show with a prize of £6 and a week's professional engagement. Miller came second to a much older act who wasn't well enough to do the week's work, Miller stepped in. His career didn't grow from there though, in fact it stalled in London, where he struggled to find more work, so he headed back to his Brighton home town and there secured work as a comedian for £3 a week.
On that summer season Max met a woman who 2 years later became his wife, Kathleen Marsh. Kathleen was a singer at the time but later gave up her career to concentrate on managing Max's, she was a strong force in the management of his business interests and his career. A career which was based largely at this time on revue shows, this often meant Max had to perform with others, not something that he enjoyed. Max needed to be the centre of attention and often annoyed his co-stars by upstaging them. Max's preference was variety and a new agent secured him more solo bookings in variety theatres. Some biographies at this point have a high of Miller's career being a 1931 Royal Variety Performance, yet the records I have seen don't show a Miller Royal Performance until 1937, before the new King George VI, Miller dressed for the occasion in red, white and blue with white shoes and hat.
Miller was most at home in the theatre yet his career took him into radio, films and even a recording career. In radio, Miller had limited success, a BBC ban that lasted for five years in the 1940s didn't help. Miller performed a joke live on air that had not been in the script he was meant to use, the risque joke didn't go down well with the bosses. Some claim that the joke is apocryphal and not one that Miller would have told, yet it is the only one ever attached to the story;
"I was walking along a narrow mountain pass - so narrow no one else could pass you, I saw this beautiful blonde walking towards me, a beautiful blonde with not a stitch on, well, I didn't know whether to toss myself off or block her passage".
The Cheeky Chappie appeared in 14 films between 1933 and 1942, the only truly worthy Miller vehicles were the two films as Educated Evans, Educated Evans and Thank Evans. Miller was often cast as an unsympathetic character and in films he once again showed his dislike of working with others. The only other high of his film career was his very first picture, a 3 minute segment as a salesman of songs opposite John Gielgud, his downfall in the success of this was being given free reign to improvise his part, in future roles this didn't go down too well against actors who had learnt the script and didn't veer from it.
His recording career was also of mixed success, he did record many singles for HMV and had some successful live albums. "Max at the Met" which was recorded in 1957 when some considered Max to be past his prime is one of the best live recordings by a comedian and is still available today on both CD and to download.
Miller's act was predominantly comedy but there was always a song or two, his signature tune was "Mary From The Dairy", a typical Miller song:
I'm known as the Cheeky Chappie,
The things I say are snappy.
That's why the pretty girls all fall for me.
I don't do things contrary
My love will never vary,
Ask Mary from the Dairy -
Here's the key.
I fell in love with Mary from the Dairy,
But Mary wouldn't fall in love with me.
Down by an old millstream
We both sat down to dream
Little did she know that I was thinking up a scheme.
She said let's pick some buttercups and daisies,
But those buttercups were full of margarine.
She slipped and we both fell
Down by a wishing well,
In the same place where I fell for Nellie Dean.
"Now on our farm," said Mary from the Dairy,
"We've got the finest cows you've ever seen.
I don't do things by halves
I'll let you see my calves,
And they're not the same shape calves as Nellie Dean's
The later years seemed to be a battle between Max and television, as televisions were switched on in every home in the UK an evening at the theatre became a luxury. Max was aware though that an appearance on tv would put paid to him doing the act live again and despite his talent, Max was not a prolific writer, he used much the same act for over 20 years.
Max's prediction that "when I'm dead and gone, this game's finished" proved accurate as the variety halls Miller loved so much have all but ceased to exist and the decline started a good ten years before Max died.
Everything I've read about Max Miller has always mentioned one of his catchphrases "There'll never be another" to point out that it is the case. Whether future generations have provided anyone with the talent of Max Miller is debatable, but the environment within which Max thrived no longer exists. In modern times he would have struggled to stay top of his game for so long without writing too much new material, yet his undeniable natural talent would certainly have seen him rise to the top in any generation.
Eric Morecambe described Max's act as "a study in brilliant simplicity", Arthur Askey said "he was the finest front-cloth comic ever" and Tommy Cooper said he would "never miss an opportunity to see him, you could see those blue eyes of his from the back of the gallery. As an artist there was no one to touch him".
Sadly there aren't too many visual recordings of Max, this one is from one of his films, Hoots Mon.
He could build a tension before he set foot on stage, such was the strength of his character. When he did appear, he would play on the tension, his longer jokes would start off slow, a little throwaway line along the way, building up more and more, getting nearer to the audience, reaching out to the crowd over the edge of the stage, checking backstage, pausing, pacing, bringing them in more until the crescendo of the punchline. Anyone who doesn't think telling a joke can be an art form has never watched Max Miller. Even in the little footage that exists you can see the mastery of Miller.
Max Miller died on May 7 1963 just as The Beatles were having their first number one hit single. He may not have reached the worldwide heights of the popularity of The Beatles but he remains as one of the greatest British entertainers and for 3 decades he sold out theatres across the UK as the number one comedian in the country.
Born in 1894, Miller was of the same generation as Charlie Chaplin and Stan Laurel, where Chaplin and Laurel had started as comedians early in life, Miller didn't get started in showbusiness until he was 26. Prior to this he had a series of jobs and also served in India and Mesopotamia during the First World War, he had brushes with entertaining and had held thoughts of singing and telling stories for a living. Such thoughts obviously fluorished during the war, alongside concert party performances, a determined Miller (still then known as Harry Sargent, his birth name) set off for London to start his stage career.
His first shot was in a talent show with a prize of £6 and a week's professional engagement. Miller came second to a much older act who wasn't well enough to do the week's work, Miller stepped in. His career didn't grow from there though, in fact it stalled in London, where he struggled to find more work, so he headed back to his Brighton home town and there secured work as a comedian for £3 a week.
On that summer season Max met a woman who 2 years later became his wife, Kathleen Marsh. Kathleen was a singer at the time but later gave up her career to concentrate on managing Max's, she was a strong force in the management of his business interests and his career. A career which was based largely at this time on revue shows, this often meant Max had to perform with others, not something that he enjoyed. Max needed to be the centre of attention and often annoyed his co-stars by upstaging them. Max's preference was variety and a new agent secured him more solo bookings in variety theatres. Some biographies at this point have a high of Miller's career being a 1931 Royal Variety Performance, yet the records I have seen don't show a Miller Royal Performance until 1937, before the new King George VI, Miller dressed for the occasion in red, white and blue with white shoes and hat.
Miller was most at home in the theatre yet his career took him into radio, films and even a recording career. In radio, Miller had limited success, a BBC ban that lasted for five years in the 1940s didn't help. Miller performed a joke live on air that had not been in the script he was meant to use, the risque joke didn't go down well with the bosses. Some claim that the joke is apocryphal and not one that Miller would have told, yet it is the only one ever attached to the story;
"I was walking along a narrow mountain pass - so narrow no one else could pass you, I saw this beautiful blonde walking towards me, a beautiful blonde with not a stitch on, well, I didn't know whether to toss myself off or block her passage".
The Cheeky Chappie appeared in 14 films between 1933 and 1942, the only truly worthy Miller vehicles were the two films as Educated Evans, Educated Evans and Thank Evans. Miller was often cast as an unsympathetic character and in films he once again showed his dislike of working with others. The only other high of his film career was his very first picture, a 3 minute segment as a salesman of songs opposite John Gielgud, his downfall in the success of this was being given free reign to improvise his part, in future roles this didn't go down too well against actors who had learnt the script and didn't veer from it.
His recording career was also of mixed success, he did record many singles for HMV and had some successful live albums. "Max at the Met" which was recorded in 1957 when some considered Max to be past his prime is one of the best live recordings by a comedian and is still available today on both CD and to download.
Miller's act was predominantly comedy but there was always a song or two, his signature tune was "Mary From The Dairy", a typical Miller song:
I'm known as the Cheeky Chappie,
The things I say are snappy.
That's why the pretty girls all fall for me.
I don't do things contrary
My love will never vary,
Ask Mary from the Dairy -
Here's the key.
I fell in love with Mary from the Dairy,
But Mary wouldn't fall in love with me.
Down by an old millstream
We both sat down to dream
Little did she know that I was thinking up a scheme.
She said let's pick some buttercups and daisies,
But those buttercups were full of margarine.
She slipped and we both fell
Down by a wishing well,
In the same place where I fell for Nellie Dean.
"Now on our farm," said Mary from the Dairy,
"We've got the finest cows you've ever seen.
I don't do things by halves
I'll let you see my calves,
And they're not the same shape calves as Nellie Dean's
The later years seemed to be a battle between Max and television, as televisions were switched on in every home in the UK an evening at the theatre became a luxury. Max was aware though that an appearance on tv would put paid to him doing the act live again and despite his talent, Max was not a prolific writer, he used much the same act for over 20 years.
Max's prediction that "when I'm dead and gone, this game's finished" proved accurate as the variety halls Miller loved so much have all but ceased to exist and the decline started a good ten years before Max died.
Everything I've read about Max Miller has always mentioned one of his catchphrases "There'll never be another" to point out that it is the case. Whether future generations have provided anyone with the talent of Max Miller is debatable, but the environment within which Max thrived no longer exists. In modern times he would have struggled to stay top of his game for so long without writing too much new material, yet his undeniable natural talent would certainly have seen him rise to the top in any generation.
Eric Morecambe described Max's act as "a study in brilliant simplicity", Arthur Askey said "he was the finest front-cloth comic ever" and Tommy Cooper said he would "never miss an opportunity to see him, you could see those blue eyes of his from the back of the gallery. As an artist there was no one to touch him".
Sadly there aren't too many visual recordings of Max, this one is from one of his films, Hoots Mon.
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