by Allan Fish
(USA 1925 72m/85m) DVD1/2
T’Aint a Fit Night Out for Man or Beast!
p/d/w Charles Chaplin ph Rollie Totheroh ed Harold McGhean m Charles Chaplin md (1942 version) Max Terr (including N.Rimsky-Korsakov, P.I.Tchaikovsky) art Charles D.Hall
Charles Chaplin (the tramp), Georgia Hale (Georgia), Mack Swain (Big Jim McKay), Tom Murray (Black Larson), Henry Bergman (Hank Curtis), Malcolm White (Jack),
So the line quoted above is not even a Chaplin line, but rather the immortal catchphrase of W.C.Fields in his classic short The Fatal Glass of Beer which, likewise, is set in a snowy cabin in the middle of nowhere. But much as though Fields was hardly a fan of Chaplin (“the son of a bitch is nothing but a ballet dancer”), he was also astute enough to know the comical situations that could arise from such a setting.
The story of what would become Chaplin’s first classic feature film (no disrespect to The Kid in 1921, but that was more of an extended mini-feature, and A Woman of Paris – in which he didn’t appear – was a failure with the public which, though critically admired in various quarters, was not a mistake he was going to repeat) is simple; a lone prospector in the Yukon hooks up with another lone prospector (played by Chaplin’s regular partner in crime, the great Mack Swain) in their attempts to find gold, during which time Charlie falls for a music hall girl. It is in essence quintessential Chaplin, displaying all of his virtues and some of his faults. Sure, it’s ripe with sentimental pathos and has a Victorian view of romance. (To watch Chaplin plead love is so indicative of the times, and also very reminiscent of his friend Douglas Fairbanks in Robin Hood and The Three Musketeers, all wild arm gesticulation, holding of hands to chest, pointing into the distant blue or grey yonder, like he’s paying homage to a queen rather than making romantic allusions.) Indeed it’s more a series of great set pieces than a great whole. But what set pieces! – the cliff-hanging cabin, the gourmet shoe eating, the chicken shoot, the waltz to Tchaikovsky tied to a dog, the dance of the bread rolls, the list is endless. Trying to pick a favourite moment is hard, because there are so many, but for me it has to be the cliff hanger on the cabin, if only because its style is not really typical of Chaplin, it’s the sort of thing more associated with Buster Keaton or, in particular, Harold Lloyd. It’s comparable to the best hair-raisers Lloyd ever did, even if Chaplin didn’t quite risk as much personal injury as Lloyd did in the likes of Safety Last and Speedy.
Many have argued that Chaplin’s features don’t stand up today as well as comedies as his short films. I have to agree that Easy Street and The Immigrant are swifter, purer studies of comic timing than his features ever could be, showing Chaplin the comic actor at his peak. But somehow it’s his features that show Chaplin the film-maker at his zenith, combining his comic precision with a delicious combination of music. What’s more, of his features featuring the little tramp, this is the one that is closest in spirit to his old shorts, and it is not also insignificant to note that it was exactly ten years previously that Chaplin first put on the shoes and hat and fake moustache of the tramp for Essanay. If this was meant to be a celebration of that fact, it could hardly have been more appropriate.
Though the film was originally over two hours in length, Chaplin cut it down in 1925 to 85m, before personally overseeing the reissue in 1942 at 72m which has become the preferred version. The longer 85m does survive and indeed is included as an alternative on the DVD release from 2003, but it does little more than extend the length with title cards that were removed and quickened by Chaplin’s later spoken narration. In many ways, one gets the feeling that Chaplin could have made three or four great short films out of the plot devices from The Gold Rush but by this time was tired of the short film. That he made a single feature just makes it easier for me to list it here and, if I prefer City Lights and Modern Times among his features, only a lunatic could not consider it a classic of screen comedy.
This was meant at first to be Chaplin’s bid for epic scale through location shooting, and while it may have enhanced the look of the film had he stayed in the mountains his style didn’t really need authenticity to validate it. I like the remaining three silents better but this is still great stuff.
My favorite Chaplin film after CITY LIGHTS (his masterpiece), and a film of economy and great innovation. Everything about this move rates and recieves awe and classic status. This film is total joy! Memorable moments and sequences abound and totally unforgettable; the Tramp turning into a chicken during Big Jim’s starving delirium, the house teetering on the cliff, the eating of the boot and, of course, the touching and funny dance of the rolls. I can go on forever. To me, this is what great filmmaking is about. Chaplin was a gift to film.
This is one of THREE feature length masterpieces in Chaplin’s career. Of course the others are CITY LIGHTS and MODERN TIMES. Some of the greatest gags (the cooking of the shoe, the delusional transformation of the Little Tramp to a chicken in the eyes of Big Jim, the dance of the dinner rolls) appear here, and the setting in the Klondike cabin is classic. This will even rank higher on my own list for sure.
You have to love the fact that Sam always has to name something as one of a list. I think he’d actually die if he didn’t.
This coming from the man who is conducting marathon lists, even going as far as to comprise a 100 countdown.
I don’t quite get what you are talking about when you take me to task for making the claim that Chaplin produced three uncontested masterworks in his career. What “list” is this? You are the list man.
Only three Sam? I list ‘The Great Dictator’, ‘Limelight’, and specifically ‘Monsieur Verdoux’ as masterpieces (or the first two being at least near masterpieces). ‘Monsieur Verdoux ‘ is probably my favorite Chaplin, not his singular masterpiece sure, but definitely my favorite. I think it’s a masterpiece by any criteria.
Why no love for late era Chaplin here (by anyone)?
Well Jamie, CITY LIGHTS, MODERN TIMES and THE GOLD RUSH are Chaplin’s three irrefutable masterpieces, but I do agree with you on MONSIEUR VERDOUX. I also love LIMELIGHT and THE CIRCUS, though I am not th efan of THE GREAT DICTATOR that others are. It’s the only one of the genius’s output that has never grabbed me.
I agree that Gold Rush, along with Modern Times & City Lights, represents the 3 best movies made by Chaplin. But in my opinion, and I’m sure one shared by many, if one were to nominate one movie as Chaplin’s greatest masterpiece, is would have to be Gold Rush – apparently the movie he himself wanted to be remembered by. Consequently I’m saddened by the lowly rank you’ve given the movie, for it wasn’t just a great silent comedy – Gold Rush was (or rather, is) is a work of cinematic genius and would rank, again in my opinion, as one of the 10 greatest movies in the history of this medium.
Didn’t I say EXACTLY the same thing and list EXACTLY the same moments from the film an hour earlier than Sam? Its like he’s cutting and pasting my comments! Geez, I know I’m influential but that really taking the cake. I should charge residuals is Sammy is gonna plagerize my writing like this!!!!!!! LOLOLOL!!!!!!!
“Many have argued that Chaplin’s features don’t stand up today as well as comedies as his short films. I have to agree that Easy Street and The Immigrant are swifter, purer studies of comic timing than his features ever could be, showing Chaplin the comic actor at his peak. But somehow it’s his features that show Chaplin the film-maker at his zenith, combining his comic precision with a delicious combination of music. What’s more, of his features featuring the little tramp, this is the one that is closest in spirit to his old shorts, and it is not also insignificant to note that it was exactly ten years previously that Chaplin first put on the shoes and hat and fake moustache of the tramp for Essanay. If this was meant to be a celebration of that fact, it could hardly have been more appropriate. ”
I love this paragraph Allan, wonderfully written. A true gem I watch over and over again and always find something new. About a year ago or so I watch the 1940’s “sound version” with Chaplin’s narration and music added. Sadly, the narration was mostly redundant to what we watched visually and was only detrimental to the film. We should stick with the original and forget his rereleased version.
This is my favorite Chaplin, one of my all-time favorite comedies, and probably a top 5 film for the 20’s.
And, I’ll go one further: I’ll agree with Allan that Mack Swain was Chaplin’s partner in crime. Swains performance as the brash soon-to-be dillusional BIG JIM is almost as remarkable as Chaplins energetic-as-usual turn. The outburst of physical glee, the drooling delirium, the letter perfect acrobatics are in fine tandem with the star of the film. They did many films together and their professional understanding of each other only lends to the performances and, ultimately, the film. They play off each other with perfect timing that is usually only seen in actors that are comfortable with each other. This was evident with all of Chaplins performers (even someone as young as little Jackie Coogan in THE KID), and the effortlessness between the great one and his players added a necessary shot of realism in films that were, often, anything but. Its the perfect illusion to sell something that could only happen in film but is as real in emotion as anything we’ve ever felt.
I cannot say in words the meaning that Chaplin has had in my life. To say he was a gift to film is an understatement. Inarguably one of the giants of film and easily one of the five most important figures in American movies; his influence is beyond the stratosphere and his innovations still text-book examples on the basics in the creation of the form. But, for me, its the joy. No other film-makers canon, save the work of the great Walt Disney, has such a smile-inducing effect on me. Chaplin just walking into frame as THE TRAMP can instantly make my day better and, with THE GOLD RUSH and CITY LIGHTS, so completely make me happy in the way SINGIN IN THE RAIN can make a bad day good. Some complain that his use of pathos is a cop out and over-bearing. I say: THEN YOU MAKE A BETTER FILM! No way, Chaplin is as near perfection as they’ve EVER come. To see him on screen is like watching a god. I’m not ashamed to say that and I’m not ashamed to faunt. The world is a better place because of him….