I first came to write about Sir Charles Chaplin through the side door. That is to say, I didn’t start out to write a play about Chaplin. In fact, at the beginning of this project, I knew very little about him.

I knew that I had experienced the creative process of an actor and that of a writer. But I was curious to know what happens if I combine two such processes. Would I experience a new creative process not quite like the ingredients when separated? I am still discovering the answer to this question.

I decided to write a play that I would perform and began researching the lives of many different personalities. After a few weeks, I began to study Chaplin as one of many alternatives. But once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop. Book after book after book. My sitting room became a screening room for his films.

Something magical clicked for me as I viewed films and read books on the first recognized genius of the new art form of Cinema. Gradually I acquired a new member of the household. Chaplin moved in to stay. Books, films, photographs, posters, Chaplin memorabilia of all kinds. He finally acquired his own room.

I prepared myself with extensive research with Chaplin Scholars across the United States. I studied Chaplin’s art of Mime with the Goldston Mime Foundation. I’ve seen 76 of the 86 films that he made. And I studied the structures of one-person-shows that have been written in recent years. And finally, I began to conceive the script.

My driving vision has been to create a piece that speaks of Chaplin, the man behind Charlie the Tramp. Although beloved and adored early in his career, Chaplin became known as “The man America loved to hate.” Driven away in 1952, he was begged to return to America in 1972.

His art and his life have been studied and analyzed many times over. The wealth of material on Chaplin is staggering. And throughout it all, there is a notion of Chaplin as an incredibly complex and contradictory personality. The same notion that is often applied to his Charlie the Tramp character. I believe Chaplin would have viewed these perspectives as a self-indulgent intellectual exercise, and himself as a simple man in spite of it all. A genius, yes, but a simple man.

I also found that there are no full-length one-person-shows, based on a nonfictional character, that do not use the theatrical device of eliminating the imaginary fourth wall with the audience. (i.e. Mark Twain, in “Mark Twain Tonite,” speaks directly to the audience.) I discovered that Chaplin would never have been comfortable speaking to a large audience about his personal self. And so, in SMILE, he does not, (l find myself creating a significant challenge and bucking theatrical tradition at the same time. But then what’s life without a few risks?)

With the generous cooperation and support of an incredible production staff we created SMILE — Chaplin, the One Man Band.

For me, there has been no such thing as a one-man-show.