At his height, around 1820, Grimaldi was so well known that his clownish visage was plastered in a proto-Warholian craze on teacups, prints, pocket watches, board games, children’s coloring books, and statuettes that still pop up today at curio shops. Among the first actors to perform literally in the limelight — a movable cone of incandescent lime that made its debut in his day — Grimaldi lived in “a culture of personal fascination that was born in the first decade of the nineteenth century,’’ writes Andrew McConnell Stott in this exuberantly detailed biography.
Grimaldi was raised in the anarchic dregs of Industrial Revolution-era London by a savagely abusive father, a traveling actor from Italy given to dragging his children onto the stage to beat them in front of an audience. Acting was more servitude than employment, but theaters attracted huge crowds nightly with lavishly staged melodramas and operettas. Directors were known to bring on live bears and elephants. Grimaldi’s home theater, Sadler’s Wells, diverted the course of a nearby stream to turn the stage into a shallow lake in which actors reenacted Napoleonic naval battles, to the public’s ecstatic delight. Bored audiences were known to throw fruit, bottles, or worse. A stampede following a Grimaldi performance killed 18 people, and fire at another theater killed 23.