Charlie Chaplin, 1931
You know what, I don't think that idiot ever even saw a Chaplin film.
Sorry, spoiler alert. And while I think we can generally characterize the ending as happy, it kind of cuts off at a critical moment. So while we see the blind girl happily recognize the Tramp as her benefactor and we see him bask in the glow of her happiness, there's an interesting note of "what happens next" that adds a sort of frisson to the moment without ruining it. One of the quotes on the Film Forum site said only someone with cement in their veins wouldn't be moved, which led me to expect something rather mawkish. The Wikipedia page describes the moment as "wonderfully underplayed" and it is correct.
Alan Vanneman wrote this thorough, accomplished piece for Bright Lights about the film. I was really impressed by the change we see in the Blind Girl (Virginia Cherrill) once she regains her sight, how wonderfully and economically Chaplin (and Cherrill) convey it. Vanneman writes:
We see Cherrill with her own shop now, and a very smart shop it is, with Cherrill the smartest thing in it. She has that special confidence and poise of an attractive young woman who knows exactly how attractive she is, an elegant worldliness that contrasts stunningly with the delicate, unformed girl she used to be.
Perfectly described, and of course her new-found sense of self makes the question of what happens next between her and the Tramp even trickier.
In The Gold Rush, I found the comedic and emotional elements equally strong; in City Lights the comedy side definitely falters. A lot of gags you can see coming; when Chaplin and the millionaire go out to eat spaghetti and streamers start falling from the sky, you know he's going to accidentally eat the streamers. A lot of other stuff is pretty funny, just not as great as we expect from Chaplin. You don't get the sense of set pieces in the Gold Rush, where comedic pieces build up to a crescendo. Still, Chaplin displays an eye for small, funny details: as the Tramp, bare chested and in shorts, waits to go into the boxing ring, he wears his Tramp's jacket and bowler hat.
As for the emotional side, I think Chaplin accomplishes the difficult feat of achieving sentimentality without being maudlin. Most of the credit for that should actually go to Cherrill. I don't really like it when actresses are praised for naivete; I find it plays into notions of feminine innocence that are outdated and oppressive. But I think the innocence that annoys me is innocence that's so obviously feigned and coquettish; Cherrill conveys qualities that go beyond purity to an openness before the camera that makes you feel incredibly close to her.
Comments