Modern Times (1936) **

Talking pictures had been around for about a decade when Charlie Chaplin released Modern Times (1936).  A silent film star with a instantly recognizable screen alter ego—the Little Tramp—Chaplin debated whether he should let the Little Tramp speak in this film.  In the end, he chose to make Modern Times his last silent feature film—and the last appearance of the Tramp as well.  However, it should be noted that the there is sound in this film, with machine sounds and voices out of televisions. We also hear the Tramp’s voice when he sings a song in Italian gibberish—perhaps a tongue-in-cheek slap in the face of talking pictures by Chaplin? In the end, the film that took Chaplin four years to make—I suppose when you write, star, direct, score, and produce it takes some time—turned out to be one of his best.

This is a protest film against the effects of automation on mankind. The Tramp represents the millions of people who were unemployed during the Great Depression, who saw machines doing jobs that would have put food in their bellies and roofs over their heads. He was quoted in  a newspaper article as saying that “unemployment is the vital question… Machinery should benefit mankind. It should not spell tragedy and throw it out of work.” The dehumanizing effects of industrialization and unemployment are at the forefront of this film. It is up to the Tramp to struggle against these unruly behemoths, while not so carefully waddling through the institutions that support them.

Now, when you start a film by showing a flock of sheep dissolving into workers you begin it with a statement. We first view the Tramp working on a factory assembly line where he has to tighten nuts/bolts with both hands while his boss watches from the comfort of his office via a video camera. Since everything is based on precise timing, the worker doesn’t have a second to itch--and when the Tramp does this he creates hilarious chaos on the production line, trying to catch up to the bolts he missed. One of Chaplin’s more memorable sequences, this was parodied on I Love Lucy when Lucy works in the candy factory. At lunch time the Tramp is chosen as the guinea pig for the company’s new feeding device, which is designed to cut lunch periods. The machine malfunctions and the Tramp is treated to bolts instead of food, shortcake in the face, and soup everywhere but in his mouth. After lunch the boss speeds up production and the Tramp can’t keep up, so he lies down on the machine and is literally fed through the gears of the machine. This is a visual image worth watching. In the end, it is deemed he has had a mental breakdown and he’s whisked off to the funny farm.

After being released from the psychiatric ward the Tramp makes the mistake of picking up a red flag on the street and waving it.  Unfortunately for him there is a communist rally happening at the same time and he is mistaken as one and hauled off to jail. While in jail he makes yet another mistake when he unknowingly uses a salt shaker filled with cocaine to salt his food. Fortunately for him the cocaine gives him such an adrenaline rush that he helps thwart a prison escape by knocking out his fellow convicts. This eventually leads to his release from jail.

The Tramp’s next job is in a shipyard. It’s a short-lived one after he accidentally sinks a ship. Faced with starvation the Tramp remembers that prison wasn’t so bad, with a warm bed and food to eat, so he tries to get arrested again. This is where he meets Paulette Goddard’s (Chaplin’s then wife) orphan character, whom he runs into as she’s fleeing from a bakery heist—she was hungry. She’s arrested and so is he after he knowingly steals some cigars. On their way to jail their paddy wagon swerves and both captives are thrown out.  And, so the Tramp and the orphan go on the lam together. Inspired by a dream sequence where he and the orphan can live together in suburban bliss with enough food to eat, the Tramp sets out to make this happen.

He takes a job as night watchman at a department store. Here the Tramp and the orphan eat to their hearts content.  Wearing roller skates the Tramp happens upon burglars who just want to eat.  The next morning the Tramp is found asleep and is taken to jail for all the “missing” items. When he gets out of jail he finds the orphan waiting for him. They move into a shack by the lake.  When his old steel mill reopens the Tramp gets a job as a mechanic’s assistant. One of the best sequences in the film happens here. While helping the mechanic (Chester Conklin) get the machines moving again, the Tramp sees his boss get caught in the machine and he has to help free his boss from the moving gears and wheels of the machine. At one point the only thing you can see of the mechanic is his head—he has literally been swallowed by the machine.

When the workers go on strike, the Tramp is out of a job yet again. When he accidentally hits a policeman in the head with a brick he’s taken back to jail. While he’s in jail the orphan gets a job as a dancer in a cabaret. She gets him a job as a waiter. Falling dishes, roast duck footballs, and forgotten song lyrics somehow aren’t enough to get him fired—and so he seems to have made it as a singing waiter. Too bad the juvenile authorities come to pick up the orphan and they have to flee secure jobs.

The final sequence finds the orphan girl downtrodden about their circumstances.  She wants to know what the point is in even trying.  It is up to the Tramp to keep her going—and that’s what he does. Unlike other films where the Tramp is seen waddling out into the cold world alone, this one finds him waddling side-by-side with the girl he loves looking for the idealized American dream of prosperity.  It is a fitting end to the Little Tramp’s appearance on the Silver Screen.

This is most probably my favorite Little Tramp movie. All of the choreographed sequences are a treat to watch, especially the machine scenes.  I also enjoyed the message that Chaplin was trying to send with this film.  There is something overtly dehumanizing about the factory system. In addition, he does a good job of expressing what people really went through during the Depression.  People really did commit petty crimes just to stave off starvation or to end up in jail where they knew they would be given something to eat and a warm place to sleep. While he made only two appearances during the Great Depression (this and City Lights), I often think of the Little Tramp as its mascot.  As I said earlier, I think this was a fitting end for the Tramp.  Beaten down and dehumanized by industrialization, the Tramp looks to the future with hope, as no doubt millions of others did during this same time period. Truly a film of its time.

City Lights (1931) **

I suppose Charlie Chaplin had never heard the adage “silence is deadly” before 1931. He soon heard it from Academy voters when it came time to nominate the best films for that year. It would seem that people were a bit testy that some British chap didn’t want to showcase his wonderful accent and prove to everyone that the most famous actor in the world wasn’t too big for talkies. He was.

Many critics view City Lights as Chaplin’s greatest film. I don’t agree with this assessment, as my choice falls on Modern Times, but it is one of his best productions. He was involved in all elements of the production: direction, editing, music, and screenplay. To say that Chaplin was an all-around gifted artist would be an understatement.

I’m not sure, but I suspect that the opening scene was all Academy voters needed to see before making their minds up about this picture. Using kazoos and other irritating noises as voices most probably didn’t go over well. Whatever may be the case, we find the Little Tramp sleeping in a just unveiled statue at the start of this film. The on looking crowd is aghast—he has sullied the purity of the statue! When he tries to remove himself from the statue he finds himself hooked, by the back of his pants, to a sword. In a comic turn of events, he has to listen to the “Star Spangled Banner” (hat off, in respect of course) while in this unpleasant position.

Later, we find the Tramp trying to elude a motorcycle cop by entering and exiting a parked limo. This is where he first encounters the blind and beautiful flower girl (Virginia Cherrill). She seems to know the sound of a slamming limo door, and so she assumes he’s a rich man and offers him a boutonniere. He pays for it with his last coin and pretends to leave. While she goes on with her flower duties he watches her. In a bit of anti-stalker justice, she throws her dirty bucket of water on him.

Next, we meet the besotted and depressed millionaire (Harry Myers) as he’s trying to drown himself in the river. The Tramp tries to dissuade the man from this and finds himself accidentally caught in the rope and pulled into the river. Eventually both men rescue one another and the millionaire names the Tramp his friend for life. The millionaire invites the Tramp back to his mansion and they drink a champagne toast to their newfound friendship. Too bad the millionaire becomes depressed again when he learns his wife is divorcing him. Again he tries to off himself, via revolver this time, but the Tramp stops him and they decide to go out for a night on the town. Many outlandish things occur, most notably the Tramp setting a lady’s dress on fire with a cigarette butt and then putting the fire out with seltzer water. Of course, what most people remember about this part of the film is the spaghetti-confetti sequence. Trying to eat his spaghetti, the Tramp takes confetti strings for strings of pasta. And so he sucks and sucks and sucks some more trying to find the end of the noodle—perhaps this is where the Olive Garden got its idea for the endless pasta bowl?

After a perilous ride back to the mansion, the millionaire gives the tramp his Rolls Royce. When he sees the flower girl he gets the millionaire to loan him money to buy flowers. He catches up with her and pays $10 for her entire basket and then drives her home in the Rolls. She is convinced he’s a millionaire and he doesn’t try to change her opinion. When he returns to the mansion the millionaire is sober, but can’t remember the Tramp and he’s thrown out. Don’t worry, the millionaire is soon drunk again and the two reunite and a party is thrown in the Tramp’s honor. Yet, when they wake up the next morning together in bed, the Tramp is kicked out again. This seems like some sort of sick booty call ritual, doesn’t it?

After learning that the flower girl is ill, the Tramp decides he will find the money to pay for a doctor to help her. With the money he earns as a street cleaner, he takes food to her. On one of these trips he reads a newspaper article about an eye specialist who can cure blindness. The girl is overjoyed, the Tramp is a bit anxious. When he is fired for returning late to work the Tramp sees an advertisement for making “easy money” outside a boxing arena. Believing he’s in a fixed fight, the Tramp agrees to a $50 winner takes all match. The problem is his opponent is changed from a lightweight to a muscle-laden beast (Hank Mann). The fight sequence is the best part of the film. It is a masterfully (and hilariously) choreographed. Watching the Tramp dance around the ring, hide behind the referee, and duck at the last moment to avoid punches is an extreme pleasure. You combine these antics with the ring bell gag and you find yourself hurting from laughing so much. Alas, in the end, the Tramp is knocked out cold—no $50 for the operation.

Trying to figure out what to do next, the Tramp happens upon the millionaire again. He’s drunk, so naturally he recognizes the Tramp and invites his friend back to the mansion. When the millionaire learns about the girl he gives the Tramp $1,000. Unfortunately, robbers are stationed in the house and knock the millionaire out. Yet, they don’t take the money from the Tramp. When he calls the police he is viewed as a thief—especially with $1,000 in his pocket. Again, when the millionaire wakes up he doesn’t recognize the Tramp and accuses him of theft. The Tramp runs out with the money and later gives it to the blind girl. He tells her he’s going to be gone for awhile and then leaves—all the while she still thinks he’s a millionaire. The police pick him up and he gets 9 months in prison.

When he returns he finds the blind girl’s sight has been restored. She gets to watch and laugh as newsboys taunt him. In a moment of regret, she offers him a white rose to replace a wilted flower he picked up in the gutter. When she presses a coin into his hand she recognizes his touch. In a very emotional scene, you watch as both (in extreme close-up) experience a multitude of emotions. In the end, she accepts him for who he is as he asks her if she can see now and she answers, quite truthfully, “Yes, I can see now.” What a way to end a film!

The performances of Chaplin, Cherrill, and Myers are superb. Myers does an excellent job of playing two very different characters: uproariously funny drunk and dour, sober millionaire. It is difficult to play a blind character, but I think Cherrill pulls it off well. And, of course, Chaplin is great as usual. That final scene is a testament to how powerful silent acting can truly be.

The gags are fabulous. I am partial to the boxing scenes, but there are countless others that showcase Chaplin’s comic timing and genius. He, Keaton, and Lloyd were masterminds when it came to plotting side-splitting sight gags.

Overall, this a true cinematic gem. Perhaps even more so because it was one of the last great silents made. Chaplin took a great risk in making this film, but it paid off in the end.

The Gold Rush (1925) **

For all you silent-haters who don’t appreciate the genius of Charlie Chaplin, the star of this 1925 classic, all I have to say to you is this: Cluck you!

The Gold Rush in question does not take place in 1849 California (though the snowy mountain scenes were filmed in the Sierra Nevada), but nearly fifty years later in the Klondike of Alaska. Like countless others, the Tramp is in search of his fortune when a snowstorm forces him to take shelter in a mountainside cabin. This is where he meets Big Jim McKay (who has just found a “Mountain of Gold” but he keeps this on the DL) and baddie Black Larsen. When the three men run out of food they draw cards and Larsen has to go in search of food. Unfortunately for Big Jim and the Tramp, Larsen is a wanted man and when he runs into 2 police officers he kills them. He later stumbles upon Big Jim’s claim. Meanwhile, the duo enjoys the famous Thanksgiving Feast of boiled boot (really black licorice)—the Martha Stewart recipe closely followed. The savoring of every part of the boot the Tramp shows in this scene is hilarious. Later on Big Jim gets hungry again and starts to hallucinate that the Tramp is a chicken. Thus, ensues the classic chase between friend and fowl. Luckily for the Tramp, a bear wanders in and the Tramp shoots it—no more food shortage!

Later on the two men part ways and the Tramp goes to a mining town, where he falls in love with dance hall girl Georgia. He invites her to a New Year’s Eve dinner, which she forgets to attend. This is the dinner where he performs the famous dinner roll dance. While all of this is happening Big Jim is having a run in with Larsen that results in amnesia for Jim and death by avalanche for Larsen. Big Jim meets up with the Tramp and tells him he can’t remember where the claim is but if they can find the cabin again he’s sure they’ll find the gold mine and become millionaires. They find the cabin just in time to endure a blizzard and bunker down for the night. The next morning they go about fixing breakfast unaware that the cabin is hanging halfway over a mountain. In one of the most comic action scenes of Chaplin’s career, Big Jim and the Tramp scramble to escape the teetering cabin just in time. They find the gold mine and make for home via boat. If there is one fault with this film it is that Georgia is on the boat and she and the Tramp end up together—I prefer the lovelorn Tramp.

This film is classic Chaplin: incredible physical comedy paired with hilarious sequences. One of the best Little Tramp films of all time—it’s difficult to pick between this and Modern Times. A must see for a true film lover.