Tiny Tim, born Herbert Butros Khaury, was a neo-vaudeville musician who described himself as a freak with a mixture of pride and defiance. The eccentric performer was known for his long hair, plaid jackets, and a falsetto voice. In Johan von Sydow's sympathetic documentary, Tim's cousin, Bernie Stein, remembers him gravitating towards music from an early age, possibly as a refuge from his strict immigrant parents (he was of Belarusian and Lebanese descent).
For his film, the director drew from Justin A. Martell's 2016 biography Eternal Troubadour: The Improbable Life of Tiny Tim, while "Weird Al" Yankovic reads passages from his diaries, a combination of voice and subject that feels right. His widow, Susan Khaury Wellman, characterizes his sexual orientation as half-gay, an implication that he leaned towards the bisexual end of the spectrum.
If his parents already disapproved of their androgynous son, his quasi-romantic relationship with another man while he was living at home didn't help. In the 1950s, he honed his craft by playing any New York venue that would have him, even a flea circus that billed him as The Human Canary. His woodshedding paid off once he started to run in the same circles as Bob Dylan, an avowed admirer, and direct cinema pioneers Jonas Mekas and D.A. Pennebaker (Don't Look Back), who captured footage of him in clubs and at festivals. He also sat for portraits by Andy Warhol and Diane Arbus. The higher profile led to appearances on Laugh-In and other 1960s shows. Producer George Schlatter remembers him as "sweet, vulnerable, and kind."
His fame peaked with his widely-viewed 1969 marriage to 17-year-old Victoria Budinger, aka Miss Vicki, on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. She anticipated a life of domestic tranquility, except Tim was addicted to the road, and the relationship ran aground two years later, though they didn't officially divorce until 1977. Their daughter, Tulip, appears in the film, but Miss Vicki doesn't. According to Martell, Tim's poor decision-making would lead him back to where he began: living with his mother and performing as part of a circus (his father passed away in 1971).
By the 1990s, he ran the risk of becoming a footnote until a fateful encounter with a fan led to his third and final marriage, though Susan notes that the down-on-his-luck performer "looked like a stuffed animal that some kid has been playing with a lot for about 10 years." It coincided with renewed interest in his music, but then his health began to decline. By 1996, he was gone.
Although it isn't surprising that the director would concentrate on the first half of his career, King for a Day would have benefited from more information about Susan, Tulip (who was raised primarily by her mother), and Tiny Tim's political beliefs, which were more conservative than his countercultural image would suggest. At 75 minutes, it handily keeps dull stretches at bay, but a longer run time might have resulted in a more well-rounded portrait. A strong optional selection.