Remember
the fire-eaters and the sword-swallowers of the old-time traveling
carnivals that stopped for a weekend and then went down the road?
Maybe your parents or grandparents told you about them. How they
weren't quite certain how much was trickery and how much mysticism.
Let's hear it for the Torture King, who holds a razor-sharp meat
cleaver to his chest and lets his assistant wallop it with a
two-by-four, leaving only a red mark on his torso. The Torture King
offers a taste of art of the old sideshow at the Heritage Festival
at the South Florida Fairgrounds through Sunday. A few of those who
weren't listening to Mary Chapin Carpenter in the entertainment
hall Wednesday stopped by to see ``Beyond Belief,'' a glimpse at
skills that are slipping away as sideshows have disappeared. The
Torture King, otherwise known as Tim Cridland, walks on crushed
glass, besides eating fire and swallowing swords. In the finale,
the Torture King slides a skewer through his upper arm, creating a
shish-ka-bicep. ``I knew a guy in Vermont. He swallowed razor
blades. The double-edged ones,'' said 74-year-old Francis
Pawlusiak, who now lives in Boynton Beach. ``I think he's still
alive. In Massachusetts,'' he said, as if that was an even greater
feat.
DAILY DISH... 1998
by Susan
Campbell Beachy
"What
kind of man likes to eat fire and swallow swords? Meet Zamora the
Torture King, one of the featured performers in . . . The
Secret World of Circuses and Side Shows. "What I do isn't
causing me pain or injury," insists Zamora, a king of pain who also
answers to the name Tim Cridland. "I'm showing that I'm overcoming
situations that would normally be painful or cause injury." He
doesn't take his "classic sideshow feats" - which include walking
on broken glass and having sticks broken over his back - lightly.
"Everything I do is very dangerous," says Zamora, who researches
all the stunts very carefully before he attempts them. "Almost
everything has life-threatening potential. In sword-swallowing, the
sword actually does go down my throat and into my stomach. If I
punctured the stomach lining, it could lead to peritonitis, which
happens when the stomach acid gets into the system. That can be a
fatal injury." The Secret World . . . isn't, strictly speaking, the
first TV appearance for the Torture King, who caught the attention
of The Simpsons' writers when he toured with Lollapalooza in 1992.
When the Fox toon had an episode featuring a Lollapalooza-like
festival, says Zamora, "There was a character on there named
Impervo the Painless who seemed to be based on me. He showed up
again on the carnival episode of the show. So I can say I've been
on The Simpsons twice, a brag most people can't make." What's next
for Zamora? He's preparing to take his show . . . on tour
throughout the eastern U.S. and Canada, and has also begun learning
a new act. "There was a guy in the '40s who would take a sharp
fencing sword and have it put through his back. It would come out
his front, underneath his solar plexus - right through the middle
of the body," says Zamora, who has been researching the stunt
through newsreel footage and medical journals. "I've got a long way
to go. Obviously, it's a major feat. But that is something I'd like
to do."
From
TV Guide October 31, 1998
by Mark
Schwed
Meet Tim
Cridland of Seattle, one of the "stars" of the new Fox series
Guinness World Records: Primetime. His claim to fame, or
should we say pain? He's the Human Pincushion, who, in trying to
set a Guinness world record, skewered his chest with about 100
pins. By the time the pin man got to 98, one burly camera operator
was so unsettled that he nearly hit the deck while shooting the
record attempt. "He got that look you get when you're about to pass
out," says our spy. "And he says to the guy behind him, 'Take the
camera now! I think I'm going to faint.' And he quickly sat himself
down and put his head between his knees." We can only hope home
viewers don't have the same reaction this November.
New Generation of Fans, Performers Take in the
Show
St.
Cloud Times December 10, 1999
by Scott
M. Larson
"No, he
can't do that," one man gasped as Zamora the Torture King cut into
his stomach Thursday night at the Java Joint. Yes, he can. He is
the Torture King and this is his touring sideshow. Using surgical
scissors, Zamora dug into the hole in his stomach and started
pulling out about three yards of twine he had swallowed. "I don't
want to see this," a woman yelped, just as Zamora, otherwise known
as Tim Cridland, dangled Christmas ornaments then pulled the twine
free of his body. It is a technique known as a Yogi internal floss,
which Cridland used to clean out the glass he just swallowed from a
broken light bulb. Gather round, one and all. Come see the
resurgence of the sideshow - a lost art that was seemingly doomed
after circuses quit sideshows to go for a more wholesome, family
appeal. "This used to be family entertainment," Cridland said
before the show. "It's strange. It's bizarre. It's shocking. But
it's a fun type of shocking." Cridland has been on the road for
about eight months. He and his cohorts play five shows a week. He
laments the fall of the sideshow from its glory days as part of the
circus. But he is trying to resurrect the lost art through his
show, which includes driving needles through his muscles, licking a
red-hot iron and bending it with his feet and using his chest as a
butcher's block. "The advantage is people see so many special
effects on TV that when people see it up front there is no question
that it is real," Cridland said. Like Patrick Wyman and Emily
Streit, who debated the merits of the show with squeamish sounds
and painful noises. They said they knew it would be interesting,
but they still were not prepared. "Not this, man. I didn't think he
was going to cut his stomach open," Wyman said. "I'm astounded that
someone could do something like that," Streit said. Cridland said
his goal is to entertain. He equates his act to the same feeling a
person gets from riding a rollercoaster. "It's scary, but you want
to get right back on," he said. He uses meditation techniques to
diffuse any pain he might feel on stage, and he controls his body's
reaction."The reaction is what you have control over," Cridland
said. "By changing your external output you can change the world
around you." The crowd was wary at first. It wasn't sure what to
think. But as the show went on, the crowd got more and more into
it, yelling and screaming and clapping wildly. "If you were
squeamish, you wouldn't be here in the first place," Cridland said
on stage with an overly dramatic tone. But some in the crowd still
squirmed and gasped at each act of torture. "Don't worry, I know my
anatomy well," Zamora the Torture King announces.
JIM ROSE AND TORTURE KING WAGE WAR OF CARNY
CARNAGE
WINNIPEG SUN Winnipeg, Manitoba 1999
by Jill
Wilson
Jim Rose
is slick, eloquent, egomaniac - a man who's equal parts snake oil
salesman and Tony Robbins. Of course, that's the perfect
combination for someone who makes his living as the ringmaster of a
travelling circus. The charismatic frontman is probably best known
as the leader of the Jim Rose Circus Sideshow - a collection of
self-made freaks who toured with Lollapalooza. He and the troupe
are back in Winnipeg tomorrow with their Secrets Of The Strange
tour One mystery the entertainer is eager to explain is the
appearance of former Sideshow member Zamora The Torture King at the
same venue one day after his gig. "It's not a strange coincidence.
He is intentionally booking shows, trying his hardest to screw me
and to puff himself up," says Rose of Zamora, who contributed to
Circus of the Scars, a less-than-flattering book about the troupe.
"I guess I'll have to fear him when he no longer has to say,
'Formally of the Jim Rose Circus' - He didn't resonate and I guess
the reason he's doing this is because there's nothing more bitter
than an opporunist that miscalculated." But there's really not much
else Zamora, whose real name is Tim Cridland, could do. There's not
a lot of call for a sword-swallowing, egg-walking, human
pin-cushion outside the entertainment world. Or maybe there is. The
soft-spoken Cridland recently appeared on a 48 Hours segment
dealing with chronic pain management - if you've seen The Torture
King calmly stick skewers though his neck, you'll know he's got a
handle on pain control. "There's nothing abnormal about me
physically," says Cridland, 35, who's been studying circus feats
and anatomy since he was a teen. "The things I do have to do with
the mind and the body - I've changed the way my brain reacts to an
external stimulus. I feel it, but it's not a negative feeling."
Cridland also denies negative feelings towards Rose. "He just took
the show in a different direction," says the performer, who travels
with a contortionist and a strong man. "It was more comedy stuff,
more crude. I'm bringing traditional stunts back from the past." He
says he didn't set out to stage a showdown with Rose's show but
admits that the publicity is to both of their benefits. "Perhaps
it's a friendly feud," he says. "It's going to help both of us it
it's newsworthy and gets both our names in the press." You get the
feeling the two men may be playing the duel up for dramatic effect
- no real feat for such consumate showmen. But as P.T. Barnum said,
there's a sucker born every minute - and whether they're playing us
for fools or not, they're both probably worth the price of a midway
ticket or two.
PERFORMER GOES TO GREAT PAINS
The
Ottawa Sun July 7, 2003
by Derek
Puddicombe
For Tim
Cridland, the blues is all about pain. With 180 acts at this year's
Bluesfest, Cridland, 39, is probably the only performer that
doesn't carry a guitar, drumstick or horn or sing a note when he
steps on stage. But he knows all about pain and grossing out his
audience. Although Cridland, who hails from Las Vegas and is also
known as the Torture King, doesn't sing the blues, his show is in
keeping with the carnival theme of this year's Bluesfest. "My act
lends itself to outdoor performances, but it's not crude or rude,"
he says. Rude and crude is a matter of interpretation, which he
leaves up to his audience. It's certainly not for the faint-hearted
or squeamish. And as Cridland tells his audience before his shows,
he hopes they have successfully digested their meals. To warm up
his audience, Cridland demonstrates his taste for fire-eating. He
then moves on to sword swallowing -- just a "light snack," he
explains. Still feeling a little peckish, Cridland smashes a light
bulb with a hammer and begins to chew its shattered remains. At
this point, it's about 10 minutes into his 30-minute show and the
first time groans, gasps and nervous laughter are heard from the
audience as the crunching sounds of glass between his teeth are
amplified by a microphone. The gasps return when Cridland reclines
on four sword blades. A few cover their eyes as a cinder block is
placed on his chest and smashed with a sledgehammer. "I don't think
this is disgusting at all. I think it's great," said Justin
Trudeau, 19, from Montreal. "I can't believe that someone has such
great command over his body." The part of the act that had most
squinting was when Cridland penetrated his body with long, sharp
skewers. He took one skewer, pierced his tongue, then let it work
its way down so it popped through skin underneath his chin. But it
didn't bother Trudeau or his friend. "The blues is all about pain,"
said Steve Joncas, 20. But what had 24-year-old Lindsay Ross
wondering was how Cridland was going to digest the glass. "I want
to know how he goes to the bathroom the next day after eating the
light bulb."
Torture King's Sideshow Stunts Stun
Audiences
Las
Vegas Review-Journal January 17, 2003
by Mike
Weatherford
Zamora,
'The Torture King,' knows a thing or two about show business. 'My
experience is, you don't want to scare 'em too much,' says the star
of Bourbon Street's new show, 'Shock.' 'If you do the skewer thing
right away, there's a chance people will run away. You've got to
build up to it.' So he builds his show, paces it. He often starts
out by walking on eggshells, literally, without breaking them. Then
he moves on to what he calls the 'very classical' art of
fire-eating and sword-swallowing. 'The skewer thing' properly takes
its place as the grand finale. That's when Zamora, formerly the
mild-mannered Tim Cridland, takes the surgically sterilized lance
and thrusts it through his bicep. 'You can tell it's no magic
trick,' says 'Shock' co-producer Scott Lewis -- himself a
performing hypnotist -- in a hushed tone of awe. 'You can see the
skin bulge right before the needle comes through.' After seeing
Zamora do his needle thing during Knott's Berry Farm's annual
Halloween show, Lewis knew he'd found his star. 'Shock' is a
blatant nod to the success of 'Jackass: The Movie,' though
co-producer Robert Allen says his idea for a sideshow on the Strip
is 7 years old. Lewis and Allen tested 'Shock' with a brief run at
the Riviera in the fall, but the hotel put a wet blanket on the
more extreme efforts to justify the title. Bourbon Street proved
more accommodating for the show that will run on weekends only,
barring further demand. Zamora has been punishing himself in public
since the Jim Rose Circus became a Lollapalooza festival highlight
in 1991. He left Rose in 1994 to go his own way,and now stages his
own shows as well as working as a geek-for-hire. During his
downtime as the mild-mannered Cridland, the Torture King shrugs and
explains his strange line of work as 'just kind of an obsession of
mine that kept building throughout my life.' But sideshows were on
the wane when he was growing up, and books often contained
dangerously misleading how-to information. 'After awhile I was
teaching myself how to do some of this, after long research,' he
says. Cridland says he 'got into the whole thing from the
entertainment aspect, but began to study where it all came from. I
was learning these meditative techniques from people who do this
not in an entertainment context, but in a holistic context.' It
really is mind over matter, he insists. (Hence, his Web site,
www.mindandmatter.net).
'I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm very focused.' But he doesn't
want to bore you with that unless you really want to hear about it.
'People come to Vegas to have fun and that's what we give them.'
Like David Strassman's ventriloquist act, Zamora says his stunts
work best as a live antidote to television or movie magic. 'When
you do see this live, it's absolutely real and you're certain of
it.' Still, he understands skepticism in a city full of magicians.
'The power of belief is strong. Also the power of disbelief is
strong, I've found,' he says. He's swallowed swords in front of an
X-ray machine and let people examine the aftermath. 'The sword's
obviously been in the body, but they're still not going to believe
if they don't want to? What can I do?' Most customers need less
convincing. Zamora is especially pleased when big, obnoxiously
drunken fraternity guys pass out cold. 'A falling ovation,' Lewis
volunteers.
HOW DO THEY DO THAT THEN?
Edinburgh Evening News - April 24, 2003
by Sam
Sheringham
It is
probably every child's dream to be a superhero - whether it's the
ability to see through metal with x-ray vision, to have superhuman
strength or even to be able to fly. But, of course, as with all
childhood fantasies, they are put aside and such feats remain
restricted to the pages of comics or on the silver screen. Not that
the fascination with weird and wonderful abilities ever recedes
though, otherwise movies from Superman to the X-Men would never
have been the blockbusters they were. And as the X-Men sequel is
set to hit cinemas next week - with a star-studded premiere in
Edinburgh on Tuesday - fans are eagerly waiting to discover just
what new talents the genetically mutated characters will have in
their battle against evil. However it does seem that some of their
super abilities are not complete fiction and that there are humans
out there who have talents which could win them a place in
Professor X's private academy for superheroes. Tomorrow night, a
satellite tele-vision documentary will reveal some real life X-men
with a remarkable range of strange "powers". Xtraordinary People on
the Discovery Channel reveals how some seemingly normal people have
abilities which make them stand out from the crowd, be it reading
minds or having a magnetic body. As the programme's director Simon
Kerfoot explains: "I decided to use the X -Men theme to look at
people who can do amazing things with their minds or bodies. But
this is no freak show, we explore the science of how they do it."
Perhaps the most horrific moment in the documentary is when
American Torture King Tim Cridland thrusts skewers through his chin
and arms. In a startling display of mind over matter he also walks
on hot iron and extracts string from a hole in his stomach. Kerfoot
says he was amazed: "I was expecting an angst-ridden angry person
but Tim was really laid-back. When I saw him put the skewer through
his chin I could not believe it was real. He didn't even bleed.
That was the freakiest thing for me - it was incredible. And when
he put the red hot poker on his tongue I had to take a step back,
that's something I will never forget."
