Marcel Marceau was a giant of an underappreciated art form

Say “mime” and the name that comes to mind is Marcel Marceau. Despite a long history that embraces Greek tragedy and Roman farce, it is a much-derided form of art. Its silent exponents, clowns you can’t hear coming, are the butt of a memorably dismissive sketch by Gary Larson, an American cartoonist: “If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s around, and it hits a mime, does anyone care?”

Marceau, who was born 100 years ago in March 1923, is an outlier, admired for a rare ability to transform his body. Yet he, too, is underappreciated—today synonymous with his most famous creation, a chalk-faced clown called Bip who sported a striped jumper and a crumpled stovepipe hat topped with a limp red flower. First presented in 1947, Bip was part harlequin, part homage to Charlie Chaplin’s melancholy bumbler, the Little Tramp. His sad looks and elastic gestures would become a cliché, aped by every street performer who has wrestled with the wind or opened an imaginary door.