Book review: CHAPLIN GENIUS OF THE CINEMA by Jeffrey Vance
RFCSAC627N
The Tramp's alter ego
Chaplin Genius of the Cinema Jeffrey Vance Harry N. Abrams: 400 pp., $50
By David Freeman, David Freeman is a screenwriter and the author of several
books, including "A Hollywood Education," "One of Us" and the forthcoming "It's
All True," a novel of Hollywood.
Charlie CHAPLIN was born into a collapsing theatrical family in South London in
1889. His early life was an uneasy mix of hopeful stage performances and
stretches in orphanages and even the workhouse. His absent father was dead of
alcoholism at 37. His mother went crazy, as her mother had, and was in and out
of institutions. At 9, Charlie toured with a troupe of child performers; he got
regular board and lodging and occasional schooling, which was more than he had
had in London.
An enormous amount has been written about Chaplin, with more appearing all the
time. His own "My Autobiography" (1964) is at its best when he evokes his
harrowing childhood and the Victorian music halls where his sensibility was
formed. The standard reference is David Robinson's "Chaplin: His Life & Art"
(1985).
Jeffrey Vance, in "Chaplin: Genius of the Cinema," has produced a volume with
500 photographs, some previously unpublished, from Chaplin's archives. The
photos illuminate Vance's conventional biographical essay, making a parallel
visual biography. In all, this is a significant addition to our knowledge of
Chaplin. Vance has enlisted Robinson to write the introduction, in which he
makes the point that other silent stars, such as Buster Keaton, may be in
greater favor now, but they've been rediscovered; Charlie has never been away.
As a young man, Chaplin toured America and hooked up with Mack Sennett and his
Keystone studio, where the character of the Tramp was born — "the little
fellow," as Chaplin often called him. Chaplin always said he concocted the
costume when Sennett told him to go to wardrobe and put on comedy makeup
("Anything will do"). He chose the tight coat, baggy trousers, large shoes,
cane, derby and a small mustache. The wobbly, splay-footed walk came with the
shoes. The Tramp was first seen in "Kid Auto Races at Venice" (1914). A camera
crew is filming the races. The Tramp keeps disrupting things, walking into the
shot. Charlie just couldn't stay off-camera.
Keystone typically did not identify its actors in its advertisements. A
cardboard figure of the Tramp outside the theater, with the legend "I am here
to-day" was enough to draw crowds. Vance includes three posed pictures of
Chaplin taken in 1915 by the portrait photographer Witzel. These
modern-appearing images illustrate why the crowds gathered. They were
advertisements, certainly, but they also seemed to show Charlie's soul. The
Tramp was tattered but plucky; his perseverance would surely see him through.
He was, in short, an American.
Chaplin soon moved to Essanay, a studio part-owned by the cowboy star "Broncho
Billy" Anderson. As Vance puts it, "the early slapstick of the Keystone
comedies represents Chaplin's cinematic infancy, the films he made for Essanay
… are his adolescence." At Essanay, Edna Purviance was Chaplin's leading
lady. Like many who came later, she was also his mistress. Edna was young, but
so was Charlie and so were the movies. Later, he and the movies matured; the
women didn't. Mildred Harris was 16 when he met her. They married because of a
false pregnancy, then had a child that died in infancy. The inevitable divorce
made a mess of Charlie's reputation.
Chaplin's legacy rests not only on the popular masterpieces — "The Kid"
(1921), "The Gold Rush" (1925), "City Lights" (1931) and "Modern Times" (1936)
— but also on a style of performance and filmmaking derived from the music
hall. It was a blend of farcical humor and sentimental romance that featured
drunks, orphans and the blind. Individually, the two strands were not unusual
for the period; together, they created something that was at once broad and
still exquisite — what the world has come to call Chaplinesque. In silent
films, the acting is often exaggerated; actors call it "indicating" — rolling
your eyes to show fear, for instance. Chaplin did his share of it, but at his
best he added another layer, one that a viewer has to tease out. You can see it
in some of the photos more readily than you can on the screen. In "The Kid,"
Charlie's face fairly says, "Don't tread on me — or mine." His fierce eyes
contrast with Jackie Coogan's innocence. There's a transparency that allows you
to feel that you're seeing right to the man's DNA.
"The Kid" was shot at Chaplin's own studio, at La Brea and Sunset, now the
offices of A&M Records. The Tramp is raising a foundling, who grows into little
Jackie, a boy born to play opposite Charlie Chaplin. Jackie breaks windows; the
Tramp conveniently turns up, offering to make repairs. Chaplin was casting this
story of filial love at the time he suffered the death of his infant son. When
Chaplin and Coogan are on-screen, they seem mystically bound. When they're
separated by loutish authorities, the viewer feels unsettled. Today, 80-odd
years after it was made, the core story of the Tramp and the boy remains
affecting in a way that never fails to amaze me.
Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks, Mary Pickford and D.W. Griffith were the founders
of United Artists. A studio executive said, "The lunatics have taken charge of
the asylum." It took Chaplin a while, but he eventually delivered a bit of
lunacy to UA: "The Gold Rush" — the Tramp in the Klondike. Everyone knows the
famous set piece of Charlie eating his shoe. (It was made of licorice.) The
scene is one of the iconic images of the cinema. Lita Grey, at 12, had played a
small part as a vamping angel in "The Kid." Now, at 15, she was cast by Chaplin
as his love interest in "The Gold Rush." She didn't get to play the part,
although she did get to be the second Mrs. Chaplin. The marriage was a
calamity. It wound up in court, and Lita's complaints, some of them sexual,
were published in a pamphlet and sold in the street. She made off with a
bundle, got custody of their two sons and left him shaken.
Charlie's fame by the mid-1920s is hard to gauge in the light of today's world
of omnipresent celebrities. Chaplin imitators popped up all over, like today's
Elvis impersonators. One goofy character billed himself as Charlie Aplin and
seemed to be everywhere. Today, there's usually an optimistic soul walking
along Hollywood Boulevard in a derby, twirling a cane — surely a promotion
for one of the street's entertainment museums.
Manoah Bowman, the book's photographic editor, has assembled a trove of
portraits and miscellaneous pictures of Chaplin by Baron de Meyer, Edward
Steichen, W. Eugene Smith and others. I've seen some of them before, but taken
together, they make a revealing album. Let Witzel's 1914 portrait stand for
them all. No toothy grin, and at first glance he could be a businessman. Then
you realize you can't look away from him.
Early in the sound era, Chaplin made a silent, "City Lights," arguably his
greatest film. A blind flower girl thinks the Tramp is a millionaire. He
devotes himself to arranging for an operation that restores her sight. Among
his fundraising schemes is prizefighting. It's a movie of extended gags and
enormous delicacy, despite the bathetic story line (you couldn't call Chaplin
tough-minded); selfless love just rolls out of the Tramp. The closing shot is
of Charlie, a flower at his mouth, looking like a mythological creature —
Pan, perhaps, in a derby and in love.
The sound era was Chaplin's undoing. He resisted it, making movies that were at
their heart silent, even though they had dialogue scenes. "Modern Times,"
nominally a talkie, contains one of the most famous of all silent sequences:
Charlie caught in the gears of an industrial machine, a photo that has been
reproduced countless times. The implication of a little man caught in the cogs
of modern life is clear; everyone responds to the eloquence of the image.
Unlike other directors who began in silent films, Chaplin never grew
comfortable with sound. There's a telling sequence in "Modern Times" of Charlie
as a singing waiter who forgets his lyrics and substitutes Italianate
gibberish. This pretty much sums up his view of the importance of words in
movies.
Soon, his pictures began to look dated, and his corny plots became annoying.
"Limelight" (1952) featured Buster Keaton, the only time the great men were in
a film together. There's a fascinating Hommel photograph of the two of them in
a dressing room. Vance says of it, "Notice how the stone-faced Keaton is drawn
to Chaplin, while Chaplin is drawn to himself." That photograph is more
revealing than the movie, which is directed awkwardly and strains for meaning.
At his best, Chaplin embodied emotion, and the meaning grew naturally from the
action.
In the 1950s, Charlie's leftish politics ran afoul of a McCarthyite U.S.
government. Effectively barred from the United States, he lived in Switzerland
with his last wife, Oona, the daughter of Eugene O'Neill, and eventually their
eight children. Oona was 17 when he met her. He was 53. In the silent era,
Chaplin was sublime, a man who believed only in personal freedom. With the
advent of sound, he was overwhelmed as an artist, and his engagement with the
politics of a wider world brought him unhappiness. He died at home on Christmas
day in 1977, his family at hand. He was 88.
David Robinson, who is not given to hyperbole, has written that the Tramp was
the most universally recognized human figure in history, and perhaps it is so.
What is indisputable is that Charlie Chaplin has always been the greatest star
the cinema has ever known. •
copyright 2003 Los Angeles Times
Lloyd Fonvielle
> December 21, 2003
>
> The Tramp's alter ego
> Chaplin Genius of the Cinema Jeffrey Vance Harry N. Abrams: 400 pp., $50
>
> By David Freeman . . .
>
> Early in the sound era, Chaplin made a silent, "City Lights," arguably his
> greatest film. . . It's a movie of extended gags and
> enormous delicacy, despite the bathetic story line . . .
Bathetic? Chaplin? "City Lights"?
Constance Kuriyama
Let's look at the rest of the quote, shall we? He continues:
"It's a movie of extended gags and enormous delicacy, despite the
bathetic story line (you couldn't call Chaplin tough-minded); selfless
love just rolls out of the Tramp."
In the first place this is a superficial comment, because the Tramp's
devotion to the girl is not entirely selfless. From the beginning he
gets an emotional charge out of being mistaken for a rich man, and
pours tremendous energy into sustaining the role. One could say that
he gets as much out of the imposture as the girl does. And of course
he wants to impress this beautiful girl, and takes advantage of her
blindness to do so.
When he finally does take the Millionaire's money and give it all to
her, it is virtually his only purely selfless act in his entire screen
lifetime. Chaplin spent years trying and failing to bring the Tramp to
that moment of self-transcendence. The character was too wily and
canny, too much a self-centered survivor, to fit readily into a
self-sacrificial mold, so his bursts of generosity were sporadic at
best, and usually motivated by the desire to ingratiate himself with a
pretty girl. In the case of the blind girl, restoring her sight will
not work to his advantage, because it will destroy the illusion on
which he has built much of their relationship, but for once he puts
someone else's interest first. In the rest of the film he is pretty
much his old exploitive self, conning the Millionaire out of money to
buy flowers, snatching a discarded cigar butt from a bum, agreeing to
throw a fight on the condition that he won't get hurt(which of course
backfires on him), etc.
The mode of the film's story line is predominantly ironic, not sweetly
romantic, partly by virtue or the two interwoven narrative threads,
and somehow I've always thought of irony as the most subtly
tough-minded of attitudes, because it stays aloof from the more
obvious alternatives of sentimentality and cynicism. If you miss the
irony, which culminates in the ambiguity of the ending, you've missed
the most exquisitely delicate part of _City Lights_.
Connie K.
Lloyd Fonvielle
> When he finally does take the Millionaire's money and give it all to
> her, it is virtually his only purely selfless act in his entire screen
> lifetime.
Exactly. It's a violation of the complex character he'd spent most of
his lifetime creating. Why did he suddenly present the Tramp as a
purely selfless creature? In order to set him up as a misunderstood and
mistreated saint.
> Chaplin spent years trying and failing to bring the Tramp to
> that moment of self-transcendence. The character was too wily and
> canny, too much a self-centered survivor, to fit readily into a
> self-sacrificial mold, so his bursts of generosity were sporadic at
> best, and usually motivated by the desire to ingratiate himself with a
> pretty girl. In the case of the blind girl, restoring her sight will
> not work to his advantage, because it will destroy the illusion on
> which he has built much of their relationship, but for once he puts
> someone else's interest first. In the rest of the film he is pretty
> much his old exploitive self, conning the Millionaire out of money to
> buy flowers, snatching a discarded cigar butt from a bum, agreeing to
> throw a fight on the condition that he won't get hurt(which of course
> backfires on him), etc.
>
> The mode of the film's story line is predominantly ironic, not sweetly
> romantic, partly by virtue or the two interwoven narrative threads,
> and somehow I've always thought of irony as the most subtly
> tough-minded of attitudes, because it stays aloof from the more
> obvious alternatives of sentimentality and cynicism. If you miss the
> irony, which culminates in the ambiguity of the ending, you've missed
> the most exquisitely delicate part of _City Lights_.
I strongly disagree. Irony is the shabbiest of all artistic modes. One
gets to posture and to preach without commitment. I'm saying this, but
I'm being ironic, so I might mean it and I might not.
"City Lights" is a deeply confused film. The true character of the
Tramp predominates in the individual scenes -- a new vision of the Tramp
as a rejected saint predominates in the overall plot. The overall plot
is bathetic, but the individual scenes are so brilliant and complex that
they constitute a counterweight to the bathos. So as a viewer one must
make a choice -- but it is a choice the filmmaker should have made. The
excuse of irony -- having it both ways -- is a cop-out. You can never
have it both ways, in life or in art. "City Lights" is an unfinished
and unrealized masterpiece.
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>The
>excuse of irony -- having it both ways -- is a cop-out. You can never
>have it both ways, in life or in art.
It certainly worked for Jessie Helms.
Richard Carnahan
Constance Kuriyama
> Constance Kuriyama wrote:
>
> > When he finally does take the Millionaire's money and give it all to
> > her, it is virtually his only purely selfless act in his entire screen
> > lifetime.
>
> Exactly. It's a violation of the complex character he'd spent most of
> his lifetime creating. Why did he suddenly present the Tramp as a
> purely selfless creature? In order to set him up as a misunderstood and
> mistreated saint.
I would argue that it isn't sudden. There are gestures in that
direction from at least as early as the Essanays, in, say, _Police_,
when he turns against his fellow burgler and gives back his swag. But
it's never quite self-sacrificial, just edging in that direction
without ever quite going there.
The Tramp gets over the hump in _CL_ because he really cares what
happens to the girl, independent of any benefit he derives from the
relationship, and there's no one else to help her. Like Huck on the
raft, he decides to go to hell. It's illegal, but it's the right
choice.
> > Chaplin spent years trying and failing to bring the Tramp to
> > that moment of self-transcendence. The character was too wily and
> > canny, too much a self-centered survivor, to fit readily into a
> > self-sacrificial mold, so his bursts of generosity were sporadic at
> > best, and usually motivated by the desire to ingratiate himself with a
> > pretty girl. In the case of the blind girl, restoring her sight will
> > not work to his advantage, because it will destroy the illusion on
> > which he has built much of their relationship, but for once he puts
> > someone else's interest first. In the rest of the film he is pretty
> > much his old exploitive self, conning the Millionaire out of money to
> > buy flowers, snatching a discarded cigar butt from a bum, agreeing to
> > throw a fight on the condition that he won't get hurt(which of course
> > backfires on him), etc.
> >
> > The mode of the film's story line is predominantly ironic, not sweetly
> > romantic, partly by virtue or the two interwoven narrative threads,
> > and somehow I've always thought of irony as the most subtly
> > tough-minded of attitudes, because it stays aloof from the more
> > obvious alternatives of sentimentality and cynicism. If you miss the
> > irony, which culminates in the ambiguity of the ending, you've missed
> > the most exquisitely delicate part of _City Lights_.
>
> I strongly disagree. Irony is the shabbiest of all artistic modes.
Poor shabby Sophocles and Shakespeare! And I'd always thought they
were pretty good.
> One
> gets to posture and to preach without commitment.
So what is Chaplin preaching in CL? It never struck me as a moral
fable, even though the Tramp is a benefactor.
> I'm saying this, but
> I'm being ironic, so I might mean it and I might not.
If it's verbal irony, you definitely don't mean it. But of course CL
isn't verbal irony. It's narrative and dramatic irony, which is
typically quite tendentious, albeit inexplicit.
> "City Lights" is a deeply confused film.
Someone is certainly confused, but I don't think it's Chaplin.
The true character of the
> Tramp predominates in the individual scenes -- a new vision of the Tramp
> as a rejected saint predominates in the overall plot. The overall plot
> is bathetic, but the individual scenes are so brilliant and complex that
> they constitute a counterweight to the bathos.
I doubt that either you or Mr. Freeman (if I'm remembering his name
correctly) has the vaguest idea what bathos means. There's an
excellent example of it in Robert Greene's _Friar Bacon and Friar
Bungay_, when two characters both beg to be killed so the other will
be spared. It's such a painfully bad attempt to make the characters
look noble that it's funny. That's bathos, and there's nothing even
remotely resembling it in CL. People like the film to differnt
degrees, but I've never heard of anyone laughing at the end. Even you
don't seem to be amused.
> So as a viewer one must
> make a choice -- but it is a choice the filmmaker should have made. The
> excuse of irony -- having it both ways -- is a cop-out. You can never
> have it both ways, in life or in art. "City Lights" is an unfinished
> and unrealized masterpiece.
No sir, the viewer does not have to make a choice at all. One can
simply savor the moment and wonder what happens next--if one wishes.
At that culminating moment there aren't any answers. Why should
Chaplin satisfy you by making one up, when you're a clever man, and
perfectly capable of making one up yourself?
Connie K.
Constance Kuriyama
And one might consider it ironic, but most likely by default rather than
intent.
Connie K.
Lloyd Fonvielle
Because Mr. Chaplin is the storyteller and I am not. You might as well
ask why there should be storytellers at all, since everyone can make up
their own stories? A narrative without a climax is not a story. This
is not to say a storyteller needs to tell you what to think or feel
about what happens, but he or she needs to tell you WHAT happens.
I know what bathos is, and so does the reviewer of Vance's book.
A story about a poor tramp who heroically restores the sight of the girl
he loves, only to have her reject him once she can see him, is bathos.
A story about a poor tramp who heroically restores the sight of the girl
he loves which ends before we know how she feels about him once she sees
him is an unfinished story.
Take your pick.
Constance Kuriyama
> Constance Kuriyama wrote:
>
>> Lloyd Fonvielle <navi...@earthlink.net> wrote in message news:<NocGb.17771$Pg1...@newsread1.news.pas.earthlink.net>...
>>
>>>Constance Kuriyama wrote:
>>>
>>>So as a viewer one must
>>>make a choice -- but it is a choice the filmmaker should have made. The
>>>excuse of irony -- having it both ways -- is a cop-out. You can never
>>>have it both ways, in life or in art. "City Lights" is an unfinished
>>>and unrealized masterpiece.
>>
>> No sir, the viewer does not have to make a choice at all. One can
>> simply savor the moment and wonder what happens next--if one wishes.
>> At that culminating moment there aren't any answers. Why should
>> Chaplin satisfy you by making one up, when you're a clever man, and
>> perfectly capable of making one up yourself?
>
> Because Mr. Chaplin is the storyteller and I am not. You might as well
> ask why there should be storytellers at all, since everyone can make up
> their own stories? A narrative without a climax is not a story. This
> is not to say a storyteller needs to tell you what to think or feel
> about what happens, but he or she needs to tell you WHAT happens.
But Chaplin does tell us what happens--she SEES. Her discovery IS the
climax of the story. IMO, he is in no way obligated to tell us what
happens after she has had a week or so to think it over.
> I know what bathos is, and so does the reviewer of Vance's book.
> A story about a poor tramp who heroically restores the sight of the girl
> he loves, only to have her reject him once she can see him, is bathos.
I don't think so, any more than a story about a poor runaway white trash
boy who heroically decides to free a slave--a slave who, once he's put through a
series of grueling, unnecessary rituals, isn't wholly appreciative--is bathos.
Bathos is degrees beyond sentimentality, because it's absurd, and applied
to CL the term is hyperbolical.
> A story about a poor tramp who heroically restores the sight of the girl
> he loves which ends before we know how she feels about him once she sees
> him is an unfinished story.
> Take your pick.
I don't have to choose between false alternatives based on arbitrary
definitions.
But you have finished the story, because you keep insisting that the girl has
rejected the Tramp, on which fiction of your own you base your charges of
bathos, artistic failure, etc.
All intellectualizing aside, what REALLY bothers you about Chaplin's films?
It seems to me that Chaplin's insistence on probing the Tramp's vulnerability,
which he does more intensely than ever before in CL, makes you hostile. But
if the Tramp is in some sense all of us, a certain amount of suffering goes
with the territory. Why should he be exempt?
Would a conventional happy ending in which the girl immediately embraces the
Tramp make you happier, or would that just be schmaltz instead of bathos?
Connie K.
--
"Our century is inconceivable without its . . . inconclusive mob of isms."
David Totheroh
And I know what bathos is, too. Bathos is a life that foregoes
infinite and ambiguous possibilities for the sake of 'simple' and
illusory completions. "To have her reject him" a viewer must impose
the blinders of his own personal history on the unfettered future
potential offered in the brilliant closing scene of City Lights,
because that 'rejection' is not inherent in the images Chaplin gave
us.
I offer my own wishes for Happy Holidays, and for limitless and
unknowable possibilities to fill all of your futures.
Lloyd Fonvielle
> All intellectualizing aside, what REALLY bothers you about Chaplin's films?
Very little bothers me about most of Chaplin's films. The ending of
"The Circus" and the plot of "City Lights" bother me because they
violate the complexity and dynamic of the Tramp's character. They seem
artificial, having more to do with the filmmaker's personal grudges
against women than with an artist's obligation to story and to character.
What really bothers me is the idea that Chaplin is sacrosanct --
that he cannot be guilty of artistic lapses, and that certain
masterpieces like "City Lights" are beyond criticism or re-evaluation.
To love Chaplin uncritically is not to love him at all.
> Would a conventional happy ending in which the girl immediately embraces the
> Tramp make you happier, or would that just be schmaltz instead of bathos?
Don't you want to embrace the Tramp at the end of that film, for all he
has done for the girl? Don't you despise the flower girl for not
getting down on her knees to him -- for not seeing through the shabby
attire to the hero he really is? I don't see how anyone with a human
heart could answer no to those questions, or not be pissed off at the
flower girl's failure to rise to the occasion. It is a humane absurdity
-- the very definition of bathos.
Lloyd Fonvielle
> And I know what bathos is, too. Bathos is a life that foregoes
> infinite and ambiguous possibilities for the sake of 'simple' and
> illusory completions. "To have her reject him" a viewer must impose
> the blinders of his own personal history on the unfettered future
> potential offered in the brilliant closing scene of City Lights,
> because that 'rejection' is not inherent in the images Chaplin gave
> us.
I'm not the only person in the world who reads the ending of "City
Lights" as tragic, or who sees the plot of the film as bathetic. There
may be some personal pathology at work in such a reading, but it's not
unique to myself.
Stories have climaxes. These are not "simple and illusory
completions" -- they are part of the structure of those narratives we
call stories. Leaving a story unresolved is not a statement of
unlimited possibilities, but of artistic failure.
My best reading of the ending of "City Lights" is that Chaplin
found himself in a quandary. Emotionally, he had a deep desire to
present a tragic ending -- the saintly Little Fellow rejected by the
woman he has saved. Artistically, he knew that such an ending was
bathetic, and a violation of the Tramp's persona. So he tried to fudge
it. He thought he could let the audience make a decision he was unable
to make.
The result is unsatisfying, emotionally and artistically.
Robert Lipton
Lloyd Fonvielle wrote:
Not until he has had a bath and a change of clothes.
You seem to confuse gratitude and love.
Bob
Constance Kuriyama
> Constance Kuriyama wrote:
>
> > All intellectualizing aside, what REALLY bothers you about Chaplin's films?
>
> Very little bothers me about most of Chaplin's films. The ending of
> "The Circus" and the plot of "City Lights" bother me because they
> violate the complexity and dynamic of the Tramp's character. They seem
> artificial, having more to do with the filmmaker's personal grudges
> against women than with an artist's obligation to story and to character.
I don't see how anyone could detect a "personal grudge against women"
in
_City Lights_--or for that matter in Chaplin. He liked women all too
well,
after the fashion of the period that partly shaped his
sensibility--which is not to say that he didn't recognize their
weaknesses, or resent the actions of specific individuals. _Verdoux_
is the only Chaplin film that seems hostile to women,and even Verdoux
discriminates. He likes his wife and the streetwalker well enough.
I have exactly the opposite impression--CL adds to the complexity of
the Tramp's character because it extends his capabilities. This is no
violation,
IMO, because the potential for sacrifice was always there.
> What really bothers me is the idea that Chaplin is sacrosanct --
> that he cannot be guilty of artistic lapses,
I don't consider Chaplin sacrosanct, but *some* of the alleged
artistic lapses
in his films are matters of perception and interpretation. The one
you're
claiming is contestable simply because it contradicts most people's
intuitive sense that the film ends at exactly the right moment.
> and that certain
> masterpieces like "City Lights" are beyond criticism or re-evaluation.
> To love Chaplin uncritically is not to love him at all.
That's a nice rhetorical flourish, but what does it mean? Uncritical
love is one form of love, but I don't know anyone who denies that
Chaplin had his faults.
I can understand the more frequent complaints that _City Lights_ is
too
sentimental or not funny enough, because there's a deep vein of
melancholy running through it. Whether one likes this darker mood or
not is a matter of individual preference, and depends partly on one's
preconceptions about comedy. I happen to like it.
> > Would a conventional happy ending in which the girl immediately embraces the
> > Tramp make you happier, or would that just be schmaltz instead of bathos?
>
> Don't you want to embrace the Tramp at the end of that film, for all he
> has done for the girl?
I like the Tramp in general, but I think most viewers feel this way at
the end of CL. However, unlike the girl, we know *everything* that has
happened.
In my case, sympathy for the Tramp is qualified somewhat by the fact
that he's misled the girl, and therefore has created the awkward
situation in which he finds himself: he can't reveal himself to her
without exposing his deception. It's one of those ironies that I think
saves the film from sentimentality.
> Don't you despise the flower girl for not
> getting down on her knees to him -- for not seeing through the shabby
> attire to the hero he really is?
Of course not. She doesn't know all the details. She's taken by
surprise, stunned, partly because she's been misinformed. I see no
reason to think that she won't respect him when she knows what we
know. She may even come to understand why he deceived her.
Chaplin is raising the question of whether sight is necessarily an
advantage. The girl knew more about the Tramp when she couldn't see
him, because then she could sense that he was more than a wealthy
admirer. He sacrificed to restore her sight, and because she can see,
she mocks him--before she realizes who he is. And of course he's not
surprised by her reaction. That's partly why he deceived her, and why
he tries to escape before she recognizes him.
This is classic Sophoclean irony.
> I don't see how anyone with a human
> heart could answer no to those questions, or not be pissed off at the
> flower girl's failure to rise to the occasion. It is a humane absurdity
> -- the very definition of bathos.
Certainly there's absurdity in bathos, but mostly because the emotions
ring false. I don't believe that two people would simultaneously beg
to be killed so the other could be saved in a patently ridiculous
manner, but I find the girl's response completely believable and
understandable in human terms.
Connie K.
Constance Kuriyama
> Lloyd Fonvielle <navi...@earthlink.net> wrote in message news:<OqsGb.18627$Pg1....@newsread1.news.pas.earthlink.net>...
> > > simply savor the moment and wonder what happens next--if one wishes.
> > > At that culminating moment there aren't any answers. Why should
> > > Chaplin satisfy you by making one up, when you're a clever man, and
> > > perfectly capable of making one up yourself?
> >
> > Because Mr. Chaplin is the storyteller and I am not. You might as well
> > ask why there should be storytellers at all, since everyone can make up
> > their own stories?
You might find it interesting to read some of the latest studies of
authorship, texts, and readership. Readers always contribute to the
creation of texts as they experience them, and some authors give them
more creative space than others. Whether you like having this creative
space or not, an author who has given it to you has not failed.
Chaplin didn't like definite endings. One of the more interesting
recollections in Michael Chaplin's book is of his father's bedtime
stories, which had a similar set of characters, somewhat variable
plotlines, but highly diverse endings.
> "To have her reject him" a viewer must impose
> the blinders of his own personal history on the unfettered future
> potential offered in the brilliant closing scene of City Lights,
> because that 'rejection' is not inherent in the images Chaplin gave
> us.
>
> I offer my own wishes for Happy Holidays, and for limitless and
> unknowable possibilities to fill all of your futures.
I can't think of a better benediction.
Connie K.
Constance Kuriyama
> Lloyd Fonvielle wrote:
> > Don't you want to embrace the Tramp at the end of that film, for all he
> > has done for the girl? Don't you despise the flower girl for not
> > getting down on her knees to him -- for not seeing through the shabby
> > attire to the hero he really is? I don't see how anyone with a human
> > heart could answer no to those questions, or not be pissed off at the
> > flower girl's failure to rise to the occasion. It is a humane absurdity
> > -- the very definition of bathos.
> >
>
>
> Not until he has had a bath and a change of clothes.
LOL! Well, at least she owes him that. And better get rid of that
scrap of undershorts he's using for a handkerchief, also.
> You seem to confuse gratitude and love.
>
> Bob
Actually, that may be one of the Tramp's concerns. It's certainly an
issue in _Limelight_.
Connie K.
Glen Ort
I posted this once before but was apparently ignored the last time
this subject came up. So, just to be obnoxious and intrusive, I'll
bring it up again:
Anybody here seen Unknown Chaplin?
Specifically, the alternate takes of the ending of City Lights, filmed
with Georgia Hale. There is no ambiguity present in this version. It's
clearly a joyful reunion. Supposedly, Chaplin was much happier with
Hale than Cherrill but either simply due to budget or the influence of
Carlyle Robinson, Hale was given the boot and Cherrill brought back
in. Given the reported difficulties with Cherrill that Chaplin had in
getting her to perform the parts as directed, the famous ambiguity may
be more by default than design.
If true, this deflates both sides of the argument somewhat as Chaplin
can be shown to have had a definite ending in mind, exonerating him as
a storyteller (though perhaps not as a filmmaker)and wiping out all
manner of theses on the beautiful vagueness of it.
For the record, I prefer the ambiguity. Art is not required to be tidy
and the ending (as any Lit major can tell you) is NOT necessarily the
climax but rather the denouement, two entirely separate concepts.
Lloyd Fonvielle
> I posted this once before but was apparently ignored the last time
> this subject came up. So, just to be obnoxious and intrusive, I'll
> bring it up again:
>
> Anybody here seen Unknown Chaplin?
>
> Specifically, the alternate takes of the ending of City Lights, filmed
> with Georgia Hale. There is no ambiguity present in this version. It's
> clearly a joyful reunion. Supposedly, Chaplin was much happier with
> Hale than Cherrill but either simply due to budget or the influence of
> Carlyle Robinson, Hale was given the boot and Cherrill brought back
> in. Given the reported difficulties with Cherrill that Chaplin had in
> getting her to perform the parts as directed, the famous ambiguity may
> be more by default than design.
>
> If true, this deflates both sides of the argument somewhat as Chaplin
> can be shown to have had a definite ending in mind, exonerating him as
> a storyteller (though perhaps not as a filmmaker)and wiping out all
> manner of theses on the beautiful vagueness of it.
I think the Hale ending is just an example of Chaplin's confusion about
how to conclude the film. There is also an early draft of the ending in
Chaplin's papers which is pointedly downbeat -- the flower girl and her
friends laugh at the Tramp as he wanders off without revealing his identity.
The fact that he produced a happy ending with Hale, whom he liked, and a
less happy one with Cherrill, whom he didn't, could also be an
indication of Chaplin's fuzzy thinking, influenced more by the emotion
of the moment than by attention to the story.
There seems to have been a similar process at work with "Modern
Times". One early scenario has a downbeat ending, but Chaplin's happy
relationship with Goddard apparently led him to the more upbeat and
hopeful ending we see on screen.
All of which leads me to conclude that it's not farfetched to
consider Chaplin's personal relations with the women in his life in
analyzing the resolutions he gave to the romantic plots of films like
"The Circus" and "City Lights".
> For the record, I prefer the ambiguity. Art is not required to be tidy
> and the ending (as any Lit major can tell you) is NOT necessarily the
> climax but rather the denouement, two entirely separate concepts.
I don't think "City Lights" has either a climax or a denouement, at
least on an emotional level.
Lloyd Fonvielle
> Lloyd Fonvielle wrote:
>
>> Don't you want to embrace the Tramp at the end of that film, for all
>> he has done for the girl?
>
> Not until he has had a bath and a change of clothes.
>
> You seem to confuse gratitude and love.
A guy restores your sight and you tell him to go take a bath before you
hug him? I think you are confusing hygeine with basic human decency.
Stephen Cooke
Strom Thurmond too.
swac
Constance Kuriyama
> ckur...@ttacs.ttu.edu (Constance Kuriyama) wrote in message news:<2bac2741.03122...@posting.google.com>...
>
>
> I posted this once before but was apparently ignored the last time
> this subject came up.
Probably we were too busy to do the spadework required to post an
answer.
> So, just to be obnoxious and intrusive, I'll
> bring it up again:
>
> Anybody here seen Unknown Chaplin?
>
> Specifically, the alternate takes of the ending of City Lights, filmed
> with Georgia Hale. There is no ambiguity present in this version. It's
> clearly a joyful reunion.
I still haven't had time to look back at that screen test, but as I
recall Hale is much more animated and emphatic in her reaction. She's
perfect in
_Gold Rush_, but she would have been seriously miscast as the flower
girl,
even if she was more directable and professional--which is probably
why Chaplin preferred her after his frustration with Cherill.
> Supposedly, Chaplin was much happier with
> Hale than Cherrill but either simply due to budget or the influence of
> Carlyle Robinson, Hale was given the boot and Cherrill brought back
> in.
Realistically it was best to continue with Cherrill, not least because
of her ability to look blind without looking grotesque.
> Given the reported difficulties with Cherrill that Chaplin had in
> getting her to perform the parts as directed, the famous ambiguity may
> be more by default than design.
Well, it's a theory, but according to David Robinson, once Cherrill
was brought back the difficulties disappeared. My impression is that
most of the problems in the early stages of filming were caused by
Chaplin's own anxiety and depression, which eventually subsided. When
work resumed on the film, the entire flower-selling scene was
successfully completed in six days, and the retakes of the final
close-ups were accomplished in three hours with seventeen takes. Later
Chaplin commented in an interview on his satisfaction with his own
performance, precisely because it was understated and therefore
inevitably somewhat ambiguous: "One could have gone overboard . . . I
was looking more at her and interested in her, and I detached myself
in a way that gives a beautiful sensation. I'm not acting . . .
standing outside myself and looking, watching her reactions and being
slightly embarrassed about it. And it came off. It's a beautiful
scene, beautiful, and because it isn't over-acted"(Robinson 410).
> If true, this deflates both sides of the argument somewhat as Chaplin
> can be shown to have had a definite ending in mind, exonerating him as
> a storyteller (though perhaps not as a filmmaker)and wiping out all
> manner of theses on the beautiful vagueness of it.
Chaplin probably considered a variety of endings, because that was
typical of his working method. Georgia Hale's screen test may reflect
one of those possibilities (or perhaps just her pleasure in working
with Chaplin, who, as I recall, is out of costume), but there's no
question that the open ending was a deliberate, carefully considered
final choice.
If there was something serendipitous about the realization of the
ending, that's no discredit to Chaplin as a filmmaker. Any artist will
tell you that
some of their best effects were achieved by accidental discoveries
while they were at work.
> For the record, I prefer the ambiguity. Art is not required to be tidy
> and the ending (as any Lit major can tell you) is NOT necessarily the
> climax but rather the denouement, two entirely separate concepts.
I'm not sure why anyone would feel that that final visual and verbal
punning on "see," and the extraordinary emotional intensity of the
scene, doesn't constitute a climax. It seems to me that Lloyd wants a
denouement or resolution, but if curing the blind girl is the main
issue of the plot, we get that also. She's cured--for better or for
worse.
Connie K.
Constance Kuriyama
"Fuzzy thinking" is an essential part of creativity. An artist who
makes a
definite plan an follows it religiously is probably second rate at
best,
because he leaves no room for ongoing inspiration,no capacity to adapt
to unforeseen variables, no chance for the work to catch fire in the
process of creation. And artists who are subject to mood swings, as
Chaplin was, are particularly likely to be initially indecisive about
plotlines and endings. This doesn't mean that they can't tell what
works best when making their final decision.
There was nothing unusual about Chaplin's evolving ideas about his
films.
Mark Twain continually changed his mind about what kind of story he
was writing while he composed _Huckleberry Finn_, Henry James's
notebooks reflect very different concepts from his finished pieces,
Casablanca_ was notoriously completed as it was filmed, and there are
thousands of other examples.
You have a limited view of creative process and the nature of
narrative, but certainly no one could ever accuse you of changing your
mind. :-)
Connie K.
Constance Kuriyama
I think Bob was making a joke.
Connie K.
Lloyd Fonvielle
I think I was, too.
Glen Ort
>
> > > If there was something serendipitous about the realization of the
> ending, that's no discredit to Chaplin as a filmmaker. Any artist will
> tell you that
> some of their best effects were achieved by accidental discoveries
> while they were at work.
Agreed, insofar as accidental discoveries are concerned. But not if he
was deliberately going for an effect and didn't get it. Just because
you declared that there is no question of his intention doesn't make
it so.
> > For the record, I prefer the ambiguity. Art is not required to be tidy
> > and the ending (as any Lit major can tell you) is NOT necessarily the
> > climax but rather the denouement, two entirely separate concepts.
>
> I'm not sure why anyone would feel that that final visual and verbal
> punning on "see," and the extraordinary emotional intensity of the
> scene, doesn't constitute a climax. It seems to me that Lloyd wants a
> denouement or resolution, but if curing the blind girl is the main
> issue of the plot, we get that also. She's cured--for better or for
> worse.
>
> Connie K.
My last comment there was actually meant to agree with
you...personally I think that the ending is perfect for the film and
I'm not usually thrilled about second guessing the motives of artists.
As in your prior post, the creative process is a twisted path of many
possiblities and many dead ends. My overall point however was to
highlight the rather dogmatic tone both sides were taking. There ARE
other explanations.
As far as the issue of climax and resolution, there is more than one
story in City Lights but the climax is achieved when Charlie takes the
money and runs, which climaxes both the issue of her eyesight and the
depth of his devotion to her. The denouement resolves the final
threads of the story and returns the two together, completing the
issue of whether or not she will learn the truth about her benefactor
Lloyd Fonvielle
> As far as the issue of climax and resolution, there is more than one
> story in City Lights but the climax is achieved when Charlie takes the
> money and runs, which climaxes both the issue of her eyesight and the
> depth of his devotion to her. The denouement resolves the final
> threads of the story and returns the two together, completing the
> issue of whether or not she will learn the truth about her benefactor.
But that is not the issue at the heart of the film -- which is, how will
she FEEL about her benefactor when she learns the truth about him? Will
his heroism and sacrifice and devotion win her love, or only her
gratitude? Will it even overcome her instinctive cosmetic prejudice
against a ragged tramp?
These issues Chaplin tries to fudge. I read the girl's reaction
as downbeat, primarily because of the absence of the emotions from her
that we hope for, on the Tramp's behalf, and as a matter of simple human
feeling.
Robert Lipton
Constance Kuriyama wrote:
Please don't comment on te possibility that I am making a joke,
Constance, just smile and enjoy it.
Bob
William Hooper
Not by definition, they don't. There are many examples of stories (as
opposed to histories) that just string people along. Stories are
merely constructed devices of emotional manipulation. At the bottom
line entertainment is emotional manipulation.
Even if it's thought to be just 'intellectual interest', the emotional
stake is there in the interest to sustain & drive it.
Constance Kuriyama
>
> >
> > > > If there was something serendipitous about the realization of the
> > ending, that's no discredit to Chaplin as a filmmaker. Any artist will
> > tell you that
> > some of their best effects were achieved by accidental discoveries
> > while they were at work.
>
> Agreed, insofar as accidental discoveries are concerned. But not if he
> was deliberately going for an effect and didn't get it. Just because
> you declared that there is no question of his intention doesn't make
> it so.
Certainly my saying anything doesn't make it so--it is, or isn't, so,
whether I say it or not. :-)
But it's clear to me from the interview I quoted that Chaplin was not
trying for an effect he didn't get. He wanted an understated
performance from both himself and Cherrill, which is what he usually
strove for, and got his own right inadvertently because he was so
absorbed in watching hers. Whether or not that ending was his original
concept, and it may well be that it wasn't, I'd say that because he
chose to use it after only three hours' shooting, when he had spent
many weeks perfecting the flower-buying sequence, it was an expression
of his final intention.
> > > For the record, I prefer the ambiguity. Art is not required to be tidy
> > > and the ending (as any Lit major can tell you) is NOT necessarily the
> > > climax but rather the denouement, two entirely separate concepts.
> >
> > I'm not sure why anyone would feel that that final visual and verbal
> > punning on "see," and the extraordinary emotional intensity of the
> > scene, doesn't constitute a climax. It seems to me that Lloyd wants a
> > denouement or resolution, but if curing the blind girl is the main
> > issue of the plot, we get that also. She's cured--for better or for
> > worse.
> >
> > Connie K.
>
> My last comment there was actually meant to agree with
> you...personally I think that the ending is perfect for the film
I understood that. I feel _City Lights_ is a masterpiece of plot
construction.
The method is deceptively simple, but the questions raised by simply
interweaving two plot lines and letting them tacitly comment on each
other are profound.
and
> I'm not usually thrilled about second guessing the motives of artists.
To me it depends somewhat on the artist, and also on the method one
uses. Chaplin's films often involve autobiographical elements, but one
can't draw conclusions about his motives on the basis of little or no
evidence. The argument that Chaplin had trouble with women (true),
therefore he felt victimized by women (doubtful, except in a limited
way), and portrayed himself in the victimized Tramp (still more
doubtful) doesn't have much to support it, and involves a number of
hidden false premises, such as "All men who have trouble with women
feel victimized by them," and "All artists who feel victmized by women
portray this feeling in their characters." This kind of reasoning
makes people skeptical of psychological interpretation in
general--particularly when it is used to attack the artist with an air
of moral and intellectual superiority.
But it is true, and it can be demonstrated, that Chaplin, in spite of
his amatory successes, was doubtful of his own attractiveness to
women. It's quite possible that he did identify to a degree with the
Tramp's situation--beautiful women are rarely if ever attracted to
penniless vagabonds--and that the Tramp's anxiety mirrors his own
anxiety about rejection. That doesn't mean that Chaplin was wallowing
in self pity. Perhaps he was merely objectifying his own self doubts
in order to control and study them.
> As in your prior post, the creative process is a twisted path of many
> possiblities and many dead ends. My overall point however was to
> highlight the rather dogmatic tone both sides were taking. There ARE
> other explanations.
Always. But in any debate there's a tendency to hunker down on
specific points of disagreement, which is probably what was happening
here.
> As far as the issue of climax and resolution, there is more than one
> story in City Lights but the climax is achieved when Charlie takes the
> money and runs, which climaxes both the issue of her eyesight and the
> depth of his devotion to her. The denouement resolves the final
> threads of the story and returns the two together, completing the
> issue of whether or not she will learn the truth about her benefactor
That's a perfectly reasonable way of describing it. Charlie's
decision to take the money is a crucial moment, built up to efficienly
and effectively in the scene, and anticipated long before when Charlie
gets money from the Millionaire to buy flowers, and when the
Millionaire repeatedly fails to recognize him while sober. I was
thinking of climax in thematic terms.
What one sees and doesn't see is a running issue in the film, starting
with the opening sequence in which the crowd (and the film audience)
doesn't see. and then sees, Charlie(who incidentally is "exposed" at
both the beginning and end of the film), which makes them "see" or
become aware of something they don't want to see--namely that not
everyone in 1931 (or now) is prosperous. And of course because they
don't want to see this, they jeer him out of sight.
This theme culminates in the final close ups, when all we can see is
two people seeing.
What a transcendently great film!
Connie K.
David Totheroh
Didn't someone recently say, "Absence of evidence is not evidence of
absence?"
To me, it is absolutely absurd to extrapolate a lack of "simple human
feeling" from within the supremely human immediacy of the shock of
discovery which Chaplin shows us in the closing scene of City Lights.
Personally, I appreciate the unambiguous total honesty of that single
moment, and the honest total ambiguity of what may come next.
Lloyd Fonvielle
I disagree with you ambiguously, and think that "City Lights" is an
ambiguously fine film. Please feel free to interpret these statements
any way you like.
David Totheroh
I'd expect no less. Your arguments have shown a consistently ambiguous
connection to reality throughout, ignoring physical realities (ie. the
closing scene of The Circus) in some cases and creating others on the
basis of nothing more than an "absence" of some contrary other (as
here) to 'support' your contentions. My point throughout is only this,
if you need to go through those kinds of manipulations in order to
justify your point of view, perhaps it would be wiser to simply think
about changing your point of view.
Chaplin doesn't show the Tramp scrounging through a trash can for his
food either. Does that mean he took his meals at Perinos?
Lloyd Fonvielle
> Lloyd Fonvielle <navi...@earthlink.net> wrote in message news:<%9wHb.8869$lo3....@newsread2.news.pas.earthlink.net>...
>
>>I disagree with you ambiguously, and think that "City Lights" is an
>>ambiguously fine film. Please feel free to interpret these statements
>>any way you like.
>
> I'd expect no less. Your arguments have shown a consistently ambiguous
> connection to reality throughout, ignoring physical realities (ie. the
> closing scene of The Circus) in some cases and creating others on the
> basis of nothing more than an "absence" of some contrary other (as
> here) to 'support' your contentions. My point throughout is only this,
> if you need to go through those kinds of manipulations in order to
> justify your point of view, perhaps it would be wiser to simply think
> about changing your point of view.
Oh, please. You and Connie both made misstatements of fact in defending
your point of view about the ending of "The Circus". As for myself, I
never denied that the Tramp shakes the dust off his feet and sticks out
his elbows in the last few seconds of the film -- I simply opined that
these brief gestures don't counteract or contradict the overwhelmingly
tragic tone of the ending of the film. It's a reasonable opinion, even
if you disagree with it.
As for "City Lights", I would say that the absence of a final shot
of a mushroom cloud over the city is a strong indication that the story
is not meant to end with the outbreak of nuclear war. I cannot prove
this, and if you want to surmise that the story ends that way, it is
your privilege.
"City Lights" is at heart a love story, one in which the hoped for
happy ending is deliberately withheld, and the possibility of an unhappy
ending strongly suggested. It is what it is both because of what's
there and what's not there.
If Shakespeare had set up the final scene of "Hamlet", with the
poisoned foils and chalice, but then failed to tell us what happened
next, it would certainly inspire a lot of debate, and one could
certainly argue that the narrative ambiguity represented an artistic
statement about the ambiguity of life and fate. But it would not make
for a very satisfying ending to the story.
Rick Levinson
Rick Levinson
romantic, partly by virtue or the two interwoven narrative threads,
and somehow I've always thought of irony as the most subtly
tough-minded of attitudes, because it stays aloof from the more
obvious alternatives of sentimentality and cynicism."
is bathetic, but the individual scenes are so brilliant and complex that
they constitute a counterweight to the bathos. So as a viewer one must
excuse of irony -- having it both ways -- is a cop-out. You can never
have it both ways, in life or in art. "City Lights" is an unfinished
and unrealized masterpiece."
David Totheroh
> David Totheroh wrote:
>
> > Lloyd Fonvielle <navi...@earthlink.net> wrote in message news:<%9wHb.8869$lo3....@newsread2.news.pas.earthlink.net>...
> >
> >>I disagree with you ambiguously, and think that "City Lights" is an
> >>ambiguously fine film. Please feel free to interpret these statements
> >>any way you like.
> >
> > I'd expect no less. Your arguments have shown a consistently ambiguous
> > connection to reality throughout, ignoring physical realities (ie. the
> > closing scene of The Circus) in some cases and creating others on the
> > basis of nothing more than an "absence" of some contrary other (as
> > here) to 'support' your contentions. My point throughout is only this,
> > if you need to go through those kinds of manipulations in order to
> > justify your point of view, perhaps it would be wiser to simply think
> > about changing your point of view.
>
> Oh, please. You and Connie both made misstatements of fact in defending
> your point of view about the ending of "The Circus". As for myself, I
> never denied that the Tramp shakes the dust off his feet and sticks out
> his elbows in the last few seconds of the film -- I simply opined that
> these brief gestures don't counteract or contradict the overwhelmingly
> tragic tone of the ending of the film. It's a reasonable opinion, even
> if you disagree with it.
That's like saying the Tramp walks away at the end of The Tramp a
totally dejected and beaten man. There are a few brief gestures that
may indicate otherwise, but they're not enough to overcome the clear
events of the plot. It's an opinion, but I don't agree it's
reasonable.
> As for "City Lights", I would say that the absence of a final shot
> of a mushroom cloud over the city is a strong indication that the story
> is not meant to end with the outbreak of nuclear war. I cannot prove
> this, and if you want to surmise that the story ends that way, it is
> your privilege.
> "City Lights" is at heart a love story, one in which the hoped for
> happy ending is deliberately withheld, and the possibility of an unhappy
> ending strongly suggested. It is what it is both because of what's
> there and what's not there.
But what's there IS a happy ending. The flower girl's operation was a
success, she has an obviously thriving business, and the Tramp is out
of jail, gets recognized for the selfless, sacrificing, good human
being that he is, in spite of his financial condition. The greedy
expectations of wanting more than that have nothing at all to do with
the Tramp or any expectations that exist within the context of the
film itself. The "possibility of an unhappy ending" is NOT "strongly
suggested" by the closing scene. If it exists, it exists as a function
of the deceptions inherent in the relationship throughout the film,
but it's no more or less likely to be overcome than any of the other
obstacles presented throughout the film.
Glen Ort
Well, back from my late christmas, jobwise I don't get christmas ON
christmas until next year, so it's been interesting to see the heavy
discussion in my absence.
> But it's clear to me from the interview I quoted that Chaplin was not
> trying for an effect he didn't get. He wanted an understated
> performance from both himself and Cherrill, which is what he usually
> strove for, and got his own right inadvertently because he was so
> absorbed in watching hers. Whether or not that ending was his original
> concept, and it may well be that it wasn't, I'd say that because he
> chose to use it after only three hours' shooting, when he had spent
> many weeks perfecting the flower-buying sequence, it was an expression
> of his final intention.
>
I was actually reading from the same text when I made my post, which
is why I dropped the reference to Carlyle Robinson. My "pet theory"
was more to poke the hornet's nest of debate than anything else. As
mentioned before, I pretty well agree with you but I will say that an
after the fact interview commending the shot isn't necessarily the
last word...but now I'm straying dangerously close to the definition
of "definitive" and heaven knows I don't want to get anywhere near
THAT one :)
> >
> > My last comment there was actually meant to agree with
> > you...personally I think that the ending is perfect for the film
>
> I understood that. I feel _City Lights_ is a masterpiece of plot
> construction.
> The method is deceptively simple, but the questions raised by simply
> interweaving two plot lines and letting them tacitly comment on each
> other are profound.
>
hear, hear
> and
> > I'm not usually thrilled about second guessing the motives of artists.
>
> To me it depends somewhat on the artist, and also on the method one
> uses. Chaplin's films often involve autobiographical elements, but one
> can't draw conclusions about his motives on the basis of little or no
> evidence. The argument that Chaplin had trouble with women (true),
> therefore he felt victimized by women (doubtful, except in a limited
> way), and portrayed himself in the victimized Tramp (still more
> doubtful) doesn't have much to support it, and involves a number of
> hidden false premises, such as "All men who have trouble with women
> feel victimized by them," and "All artists who feel victmized by women
> portray this feeling in their characters." This kind of reasoning
> makes people skeptical of psychological interpretation in
> general--particularly when it is used to attack the artist with an air
> of moral and intellectual superiority.
>
Very true. It has always seemed to me to be a failing of many
biographers to plug holes in the historical record by searching
through creative works and trying to extrapolate. While certain clues
will be present and certain preferences made manifest, this is a
minefield of potential error. Yet it is exceedingly common to find
people discussing the love life of a singer (for example) on the basis
of a tragic love song.
> But it is true, and it can be demonstrated, that Chaplin, in spite of
> his amatory successes, was doubtful of his own attractiveness to
> women. It's quite possible that he did identify to a degree with the
> Tramp's situation--beautiful women are rarely if ever attracted to
> penniless vagabonds--and that the Tramp's anxiety mirrors his own
> anxiety about rejection. That doesn't mean that Chaplin was wallowing
> in self pity. Perhaps he was merely objectifying his own self doubts
> in order to control and study them.
>
> > As in your prior post, the creative process is a twisted path of many
> > possiblities and many dead ends. My overall point however was to
> > highlight the rather dogmatic tone both sides were taking. There ARE
> > other explanations.
>
> Always. But in any debate there's a tendency to hunker down on
> specific points of disagreement, which is probably what was happening
> here.
>
Agreed. Hey, I've been just as guilty.
> > As far as the issue of climax and resolution, there is more than one
> > story in City Lights but the climax is achieved when Charlie takes the
> > money and runs, which climaxes both the issue of her eyesight and the
> > depth of his devotion to her. The denouement resolves the final
> > threads of the story and returns the two together, completing the
> > issue of whether or not she will learn the truth about her benefactor
>
> That's a perfectly reasonable way of describing it. Charlie's
> decision to take the money is a crucial moment, built up to efficienly
> and effectively in the scene, and anticipated long before when Charlie
> gets money from the Millionaire to buy flowers, and when the
> Millionaire repeatedly fails to recognize him while sober. I was
> thinking of climax in thematic terms.
> What one sees and doesn't see is a running issue in the film, starting
> with the opening sequence in which the crowd (and the film audience)
> doesn't see. and then sees, Charlie(who incidentally is "exposed" at
> both the beginning and end of the film), which makes them "see" or
> become aware of something they don't want to see--namely that not
> everyone in 1931 (or now) is prosperous. And of course because they
> don't want to see this, they jeer him out of sight.
> This theme culminates in the final close ups, when all we can see is
> two people seeing.
>
> What a transcendently great film!
>
> Connie K.
I see your point about climax and this I think gets into word parsing
and strict definitions. Someone made a post above about stories not
having to have a resolution "by definition". Unfortunately, that IS
the definition, conflict and resolution, which City Lights achieves
wonderfully, in my opinion. Since we are more or less on the same page
here, I'll leave it at that and spare us the agony of further
rehashing.
Lloyd Fonvielle
> Lloyd Fonvielle <navi...@earthlink.net> wrote in message news:<0YEHb.22346$Pg1....@newsread1.news.pas.earthlink.net>...
>> "City Lights" is at heart a love story, one in which the hoped for
>>happy ending is deliberately withheld, and the possibility of an unhappy
>>ending strongly suggested. It is what it is both because of what's
>>there and what's not there.
>
> But what's there IS a happy ending. The flower girl's operation was a
> success, she has an obviously thriving business, and the Tramp is out
> of jail, gets recognized for the selfless, sacrificing, good human
> being that he is, in spite of his financial condition. The greedy
> expectations of wanting more than that have nothing at all to do with
> the Tramp or any expectations that exist within the context of the
> film itself. The "possibility of an unhappy ending" is NOT "strongly
> suggested" by the closing scene. If it exists, it exists as a function
> of the deceptions inherent in the relationship throughout the film,
> but it's no more or less likely to be overcome than any of the other
> obstacles presented throughout the film.
Well, that's an eloquent statement of your position, and I certainly
respect it. Whether or not it's greedy to want more I guess depends on
the degree to which one reads the narrative as a love story. I do read
it that way, for better or worse -- the film strikes me as having the
structure of a conventional romantic comedy, with an unconventional (and
to me unsatisfying) ending. My experience of the film leads me to want
to know if the flower girl will return the Tramp's romantic affection,
and to be disappointed that this is left, at best, unresolved.
Constance Kuriyama
>
> Well, back from my late christmas, jobwise I don't get christmas ON
> christmas until next year, so it's been interesting to see the heavy
> discussion in my absence.
>
> > But it's clear to me from the interview I quoted that Chaplin was not
> > trying for an effect he didn't get. He wanted an understated
> > performance from both himself and Cherrill, which is what he usually
> > strove for, and got his own right inadvertently because he was so
> > absorbed in watching hers. Whether or not that ending was his original
> > concept, and it may well be that it wasn't, I'd say that because he
> > chose to use it after only three hours' shooting, when he had spent
> > many weeks perfecting the flower-buying sequence, it was an expression
> > of his final intention.
> >
> I was actually reading from the same text when I made my post, which
> is why I dropped the reference to Carlyle Robinson. My "pet theory"
> was more to poke the hornet's nest of debate than anything else. As
> mentioned before, I pretty well agree with you but I will say that an
> after the fact interview commending the shot isn't necessarily the
> last word...
Indeed not. But in this case it sounds plausible, given his general
preference for open endings, understatement, etc.
>but now I'm straying dangerously close to the definition
> of "definitive" and heaven knows I don't want to get anywhere near
> THAT one :)
It's a semantic quicksand. But feel free to poke the hornet's nest of
debate any time. I enjoyed our chat.
Connie K.