Word: chaplins
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Woody, who? Nobody, really. The Allen persona - the urban boy-chik as social misfit - is, of course, an act, a put-on, no more the real performer than Chaplin's tramp or Jack Benny's miser. Still it does contain grains of truth, along with lecithin, gum arabic and .2% sodium benzoate to retard spoilage. Like all great comedians, Allen consumes his roots, and very often the public schleprechaun blurs into the private comic who would rather talk about anything but himself. As he admits, even his most outrageous gags are a form of autobiography, a reflection...
...missed--technicolor psychedelics, sing-along sub-titles, and a flag with the wrong number of stars--we arrive in the Big City, which is probably Los Angeles but could be anyplace. Here the Tramp criss-crosses paths with the beautiful girl and the eccentric millionaire. She thinks that Chaplin must be wealthy as well as kind--after all, she's heard him getting out of a limousine. Smitten by love, he can't bring himself to explain that he'd walked through the car because it had blocked his path, and supports her original illusion with a lot of fancy...
...many effects and gags. Then after his chair has been moved, or accidentally substituting soap for his neighbor's cheese) is just one mark of his genius. We know that he'll flip his rescuer into the water as he struggles to get out, and we laugh uproariously anyway. Chaplin brings off new twists in a drunk scene and plays those familiar cliches with such finesse that we have to love...
...MOVIE abounds in visual puns, a subtler cinematic kind of burlesque. The buffoonery of Chaplin's extricating himself from a newly unveiled statue is climaxed when he inadvertently thumbs his nose at the mayor by using the statue's hand. When a waiter brings the inebriated Tramp a plate of spaghetti, it's inevitable and delightful that our hero should also chew up one of the party streamers festooning the room. Buckets of water in the face, stones accidentally falling on innocent toes, police as easily misdirected as the Keystone Cops: it's all there. And in the only specifically...
Harry Myers shuttles stylishly between his roles of unloveable businessman and laughable drunk, and Virginia Cherrill is as appropriately sweet and endearing as any in the long line of Hollywood waifs. The film, however, never strays far from its hero: this is the Tramp's story, and Charlie Chaplin is the Tramp. More than anything in the plot's evolution or even the set-up of individual scenes, the humor and-or sadness evoked depends on Chaplin's unique blend of esprit and helplessness in this, his best-known character. He always chooses just the right foolish grin, the exact...