The First Wave of Releases in ‘The Films of Charlie Chaplin’ Find the Tramp at His Comic Peak

Sir Charles Spencer Chaplin, better known as Charlie Chaplin, stands free from the form that made him famous. Everyone’s heard the name, even if they’ve never watched any of his films, and so many have seen them. His unique brand of slapstick and sentimentality, at its peak during the silent era before achieving an admirable degree of success come the onset of sound, produced a number of films that continue to stand the test of time upwards of a century later.

As is the way with early films, they are constantly being rediscovered, remastered and re-released back into the world. That’s exactly Curzon Artificial Eye’s plan as they bring out The Films of Charlie Chaplin over the next month and a half. Consisting of 11 releases in total, the first wave focuses on the ’20s with The Kid (1921), The Gold Rush (1925) and The Circus (1928), all starring Chaplin’s alter-ego, The Tramp.

The Tramp, The Little Tramp or The Little Fellow depending on who’s asking, is the figure most synonymous with Chaplin. A small, raggedy soul, constantly striving for dignity in a world that allows him very little, he’s the perfect vehicle for Chaplin’s brand of humour and pathos. Dressed in large tattered clothes that hang off his body, he puts on the airs of a gentleman no matter what’s thrown at him, facing up to bullies and trying to charm women initially far out of his league as he strives to make a living on the outskirts of society.

His most famous comic creation isn’t the only thing uniting the three films. All of them were subject to lengthy delays as Chaplin either struggled for inspiration or battled crises to drag filming over the line. His perfectionist nature saw him shoot over 50 times the running length of The Kid, while the sheer ambition of The Gold Rush, and a catalogue of problems on The Circus dragged production on for months. Personal turmoil afflicted him during all three films as well. On the first, he’d not long before lost a child and was having marital difficulties, on the second he was throwing himself into a whirlwind marriage and pregnancy, and on the third he was trying to escape the bitter ramifications of divorce once more.

The Gold Rush (1925)

What of the films though? The Kid, his first full feature, also finds him emotionally raw and vulnerable. The story has The Tramp stumbling across an abandoned baby in an alleyway. After a few comical attempts to rid himself of the burden, he eventually turns parent where the story jumps forward five years. Father and son now form a successful business breaking and fixing windows together, until social services try to take the child away.

There are a number of standout sequences, particularly a street brawl that starts with the kid, played with impressive zest by Jackie Coogan, beating up a bully, before the much older brother, a man built like a tank, tries to lay-out The Tramp. There’s also a wonderful finalé that sees The Tramp dreaming of a heaven eventually spoiled by the entrance of sin.

As funny as Chaplin’s set-ups are, the core of the film is The Tramp’s relationship with his adopted son. When social services come to remove the child, he thrashes around, fighting hard to stop them. There’s a wild-eyed look of horror on his face as he realises he’s failed, followed by anguish as he hears his son screaming for help from the back of a truck. A frantic chase and triumphant rescue follow, but it’s that look, a mixture of parental fear and love, that makes this one of his most successful attempts to merge comedy with a strong emotional core.

The Gold Rush following four years later is quite possibly his most famous film, and certainly the one Chaplin himself said he wanted to be remembered for. In this tale of prospectors heading into the frozen wilderness to seek out gold, he crafts a number of iconic gags. There’s The Tramp boiling up his shoe like a gourmet chef to share with starving colleague Big Jim (Mack Swain), a dance with two potatoes as he imagines entertaining a group of women who stand him up on New Year’s Eve, and sustained thrills as The Tramp and Big Jim sway side-to-side in a cabin teetering over a cliff.

Unfortunately, the version included is the 1942 re-issue that makes a few editing trims to speed up the flow, reduces the passion of the finalé, adds a new score, and most egregiously, includes narration. Chaplin himself oversaw the new version, and provides the narration, but it’s a pale imitation of the original. The Tramp’s antics as he goes from starving prospector stuck in the middle of nowhere to social pariah back in town and out again to the wilderness where his luck finally changes, lose their impact with voiceover. Chaplin’s physical gifts are diminished by the constant verbal explanation provided at every juncture.

Less famous than the previous two, The Circus rounds off this first wave of releases. It also contains some of his most inspired comedy, all reverse engineered from one show-stopping scene at the end. Chaplin envisaged The Tramp out on a tightrope battling a swarm of monkeys that threaten to tip him off at any moment. This provides a stunning finalé, but first he had to come up with the rest of the film.

That rest isn’t too shabby, either. The Tramp finds himself mixed up with a pickpocket while hanging around the circus, and in the ensuing chase runs a police officer ragged in the big tent much to the crowd’s amusement. He’s then hired by the circus master where he promptly falls in love with the cruel man’s daughter, played by Merna Kennedy, and struggles to repeat his earlier successes when it emerges he can only be funny unintentionally. The big finish comes about in his effort to trump the handsome tightrope walker Kennedy is clearly smitten with.

The Circus (1928)

The Circus is a less coherent film than the previous two, built much more around slapstick set pieces, but it does create some of his very best comedy while, in a poignantly understated ending, keeping the sentimentality that sometimes threatens to drown his work in check. And it’s still remarkably funny, easily the match of any comedy since in its ability to provoke unabashed laughter.

On top of the films, each release comes with a wealth of interesting extras including an introduction from David Robinson and a series of featurettes that offer fascinating viewing. If the films alone are not enough, and they really should be, it’s a comprehensive package that justifies purchase.

In later years, Chaplin exercises his social conscience more, but as an opening salvo in the Chaplin collection, these three are unlikely to be matched for laughs.