Hello, He Must Be Going

IT WAS ONLY AFTER I watched some Marx Brothers imitators at work that I realized there was a quality about the original quartet that’s impossible to reproduce: the sense of family that the brothers shared. They’re in character – they were always in character when in the public eye – they’re in situations that place them at odds with one another, yet you sense a special attachment, an easy familiarity. A bond that was set in place as their ambitious mother sent them, five brothers in various combinations, through the rough-and-tumble world of vaudeville, which would culminate in Broadway and Hollywood. Which makes the Zeppo paradox all the more poignant.

He was the youngest of the five, born Herbert Marx in 1901. Leonard (Chico) was 14 when he was born; Julius (Groucho) and Adolph (Harpo) were two and four years younger than Leonard. Milton (Gummo) was born in 1892. The oldest three were soon enough established as a working unit, but mother Minnie wanted “The Four Marx Brothers” on the bill, so Milton was conscripted into service.

The original foursome acquired their nicknames in 1914 thanks to a fellow-vaudevillian named Art Fisher, who came up with the monikers during a poker game. When queried about their switch to these names, Groucho responded, “We want to be different and attract unusual attention.” Herbert acquired his nickname three years later, and the most plausible story behind it was his resemblance to a sideshow performer known as Zip the Pinhead, Zip, in Herbert’s case, soon morphing into Zeppo. He gave other origin stories through the years, suggesting that he wanted to dissociate himself from the freak-show aspect, yet he (along with all his brothers) never stopped using the memorable name.