During the silent era of
Hollywood, there was a great demand for comedy, particularly of the screwball
variety, usually involving lots of visual misunderstandings and chase scenes.
Charles Chaplin, Buster Keaton, and Harold Lloyd are regularly recognized as
the three masters of that genre during the period. There is usually a great
debate amongst critics as to who was the greatest of these artists. The general
consensus is usually that Chaplin played things too schmaltzy to be even
compared to the incredible Keaton. Chaplin also has his supporters, though, who
defend his attempts to provide meaning to his misadventures. Often, Lloyd gets
simply forgotten about, but that’s for another day.
I try not to take any
sides on this argument, because each of these men were geniuses and they each
have wonderful movies to back them up. Of all of the comedies released
featuring them, however, my favorite would have to be Chaplin’s City
Lights. Although to call it a comedy almost does it an involuntary
injustice, making those unfamiliar with the material imagine a bunch of
ridiculous buffoonery.
Ridiculous buffoonery
has its place, a little of it being in this very movie, but this is actually a very
serious movie accompanied by its share of laughs. You see, Harold Lloyd was the
everyman, Buster Keaton was the stuntman, and Charlie Chaplin was the romantic.
His films would often try to pull at heartstrings even before tugging at the
funny bone. His The Kid, for example, left more laughs off the
screen then any of his movies, shooting instead for a completely tragic style
of storytelling.
City Lights blends the drama and comedy together better
than any other attempt of the time. The story has Chaplin’s famous nameless Tramp
character encountering a poor blind girl played by Virginia Cherrill. Although
the Tramp is equally as poor, he has an accidental millionaire friend who gives
him anything he wants while drunk, but does not remember anything when sober.
The scene when the Tramp
first meets the girl and buys a single flower from her is the heartbreaking
chord that resonates through the rest of the film. He does not realize she is
blind at first, and when she drops the flower she is handing him, he picks it
up, while she slowly stoops down and begins searching for it. The look on his
face at this realization mirrors what we are feeling for this poor girl. The Tramp falls quite in
love with her and begins seeing her under the guise of a gentleman, using the
millionaire’s resources, of course.
Chaplin was a great
actor as well as a great director. He knew when he needed to be in the
spotlight stealing the show and when he needed to submit to the camera for the
greater good. The Tramp is not in every scene, with Cherrill getting more
screen time than you might expect. Her performance is just as endearing as
Chaplin’s, which is a good thing since the whole film depends on her making us
feel for her situation.
This movie was meant as
an inspiration for those, like the characters in the film, who were still
suffering from the Depression. It is also a very defiant film since by 1931
everybody had already converted to talkies, while Chaplin was the only big
artist who stuck stubbornly with the notion that silent films had greater
artistic quality than the more vulgar show of sound. I applaud his decision, as
this story very much benefits from the silence, although appropriate score and
sound effects were added in.
At the same time, I am
glad that Chaplin did eventually make the shift to sound, because a movie like The
Great Dictator wouldn’t have worked without it. You can see him
beginning to budge a bit even in this film, with the scene in which the Tramp
swallows a whistle being a perfect example. The sound effects added make the
scene even funnier, with that little tweet of Chaplin’s hiccups being used to
great effect, like accidentally hailing a cab and attracting every dog in the
vicinity.
What struck me the most
in re-watching City Lights is how charmingly innocent it all
is. There is a scene where the Tramp winds up in the middle of a rather wild
party, where a girl in a slip is dancing on a table amongst other tomfoolery,
and he seems completely oblivious, happily munching on finger food with his
back to the world. Another moment finds him taking only two drinks and becoming
completely drunk, going so far as to eat the long strings of confetti at a
restaurant thinking they are part of his spaghetti.
The Tramp is, after all,
a child-like character. Look at the scene where he alludes the millionaire’s
butler, runs into the house, and jumps into a tall chair, kicking his feet
merrily. His complete devotion to the blind girl, even when aware of the
possibility her love may not be returned when she discovers who he is, is
heart-warming and refreshing. It kind of makes you feel good to see true,
honest people portrayed on the screen as heroes, especially during a time when
gangsters and monsters were beginning to be idolized as screen stars.
The best moment in the
film is at the very end when the Tramp has been released from a year-long prison
sentence after being accused of stealing a thousand dollars that the
millionaire had given him. Before his arrest, he had been able to give the
money to the girl to get her eyes fixed, which she does. The final scene has
him absently walking past her new flower shop, and she eventually realizes who
he his. It’s a wonderful moment that must be seen rather than described. Some
say it’s corny, just like everything Chaplin did. I say it’s one of the most
perfect moments in American cinema; closing out one of the best pictures ever
filmed.
