Showing posts with label Chaplin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chaplin. Show all posts

Sunday, November 3, 2013

A Woman of Paris (1923)




A Woman of Paris is most famous for who isn’t in it. Charlie Chaplin directed the film, a personal project to ensure star Edna Purviance’s lasting success, but aside from an indistinguishable cameo role, he’s nowhere to be found onscreen. History tells us this was a mistake. The movie fared poorly, with audiences showing up to see a Chaplin film and leaving disappointed. A Woman of Paris not only lacks a Tramp; it’s a drama to boot. Though no one who bought a ticket could have claimed to have been duped, their expectations were not met, and that’s what counted in the end.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Happy 99th, Little Tramp...



As reported by my noble colleagues at the Toronto Silent Film Festival, today is the ninety-ninth anniversary of Kid Auto Races at Venice (1914): the first public appearance of Charlie Chaplin's Little Tramp. The film itself is simple and brief, and Chaplin would go on to do much better, even for Keystone. But, for providing the world with its first glimpse of a character who would go on to be one of film history's greatest icons, Kid Auto Races will always be a big deal.

(For the record, my first exposure to the Little Tramp was through a parody... on Sesame Street. That's how deep this character is sunk into popular culture.)

I blogged about Kid Auto Races in Fall 2011. Click here to read that post.

Of course, given that this is a silent film blog, I've written about Chaplin many other times too. Here is a list of those links, for your leisurely reading pleasure:

The Circus

Pay Day

The Gold Rush

Modern Times

Shoulder Arms

A Woman

Mabel's Busy Day


--Chris

Thursday, January 31, 2013

The Gold Rush (1925)


Minutes into the screening of The Gold Rush—a film I’d seen before, but not for years—I realized something was wrong. The Tramp: lost and alone in The Yukon’s white wastes, in search of his vein of gold, wasn’t wearing a proper jacket. He would freeze.

It’s a joke, of course; one of dozens in Charlie Chaplin’s third full-length directorial effort. And it’s a strange one. Chaplin’s Tramp, a globally famous character, wore the same beat up, baggy, repurposed clothes in nearly every film, but most of those films were set in warm urban environments, where being underdressed is forgivable, and occasionally wise. Up in the mountains, it’s real dumb. And the Tramp isn’t dumb.