THE REAL CHAPLIN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20868, 9 May 1931, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE REAL CHAPLIN.

HIS CRITIQUE OF LIFE,

BY QUENTIN POTK. 1

At the London premiere of " City Lights" there was ono man who was uncomfortable, lie sat in a box fidgeting with his programme, casting sidelong glances at his friends and maintaining an uneasy silence. Only when it was obvious that tho audience was stirred did ho sit back with a satisfied smile. That man was Charlie Chaplin. Hie papers have told of his return to London through crowded streets, of his call upon tho judges at tho Old Bailey, of his visit to tho Chequers, where Britain's Prime Minister takes his ease. There are innumerable pictures of him twirling in the maze of a fox-trot with Lady Maureen Stanley, sitting smirking while Winston Churchill proposes the toast of " the man who has united the people of tho world through laughter," talking to tho Duchess of Rutland. It all seems far removed from tho days when "Charlie " hurled his custard pie in a legion of riotous comedies which were more remarkable for their slapstick than for their art. But to-day Chaplin is no longer a comedian, he is an artist.

It came home to the world with the making of " Hio Gold Push " five years ago. For here \v->. saw the remarkable technical skill, the sensitive feeling of tho man who had made his long journey from one-reel incredibilities to the strongly conceived " Woman of Paris," with its subtle use of tho camera to evoko emotion. From the moment when Chaplin walked over tho snow in " Tho Gold Push," cheerfully, but terribly alone, it was apparent that his stature had grown. It was tho old Chaplin with his habit of dealing in tho commonplace and raising tho overwhelmingly credible to a piano of high comedy, a dreaming clown in the midst of Alaska's immensity.

New Technique. There was the old sharp tilt of hat in greeting and quick, leering smile and bending knees in the stiff gait. But there were also new tricks in surprising array, as when he set supper for a woman who did not come, and with two forks thrust in rolls of bread, " danced " the "Oceana Roll," so lightly and cleverly done that you forgot there was no one else in the world who could do it. There was conquest, perilously achieved after impending failure, and achieved so fortuitously that it seemed the very stuff of life. And everywhere in the humour, so skilfully derived from the flow of the film, there was a bond with grief. It needed but a turn of the wheel to change laughter to sorrow. It is this which has taken Chaplin from tho littla comedies full of custard pies and comic policemen to tho homes of Prime Ministers and artists. The little comedian, a small, lonely figure to tho last, never challenging destiny, triumphing through some accidental turn of an indifferent l'ate, is himself an artist. His art is not the technical excellence of make-up nor the ingenious resource of invention in devising new drolleries; it is the discovery newly niado by all great comedians of tho allianco of grief and joy.

- The creation of illusions out of tho actual material at hand is not enough, that endless energy and dexterous equipment would not suffice, but Chaplin has something more. H. 9 baa the vision and serenity of a genius. His work is a critiquo of life. And the small, awkward, passionless figure is placidly trading .in the deepest feeling. The gales of laughter sweep by, but thero remains tho odd, uncomfortable sympathy. In fho midst of his fun 110 is for ever searching hearts. Precious Illusions.

" The cano is an attempt at dignity, tho moustacho is an adornment, a manifestation of vanity," he said in London, when discussing the little man with tho big feet and the sorrowful eyes. " Those big boots are everything that has impeded humanity." And you laugh at the little man before 110 does anything to provoke laughter. Perhaps you laugh in selfdefence, for without laughter's shield you see him as a pathetic figure, the personification of man's isolation, his craving for friendship, his shyness and absurdity. Seeing him, you realise how foolish is tho human frame and how pathetically valiant its spirit. _ , Ho performs his tricks, but with no joyous abandon. Ho seeks' his ambitions, but with leaden feet. When he blunders to success ho has a faint air of surprise at tho unexpected goodness of the world. When he passes from sight it is on some new quest, his frail, courageous figure always alone.

This is tho real Chaplin. In an ago of critical realism he has kept his precious illusions. In the most commercialised of film centres in the world lie has followed his own beliefs. At a time of audible films lie has preferred to hold silence. Seven years ago lie reached the stato when he determined to eschew what tho public wants. At one time 110 thought lie know, later 110 determined that " the public has no specification for films—the demands of the public are negative at best," and since that time he has followed his own path and kept his spontaneity. Faith in the Film.

" I prefer my own taste as a trui>r expression tif what the public wants of me than anything I can fathom out of the things that 1 observe, either in my own works or in those of others who are unmistakably successful." lie lias played for democracy. There is nothing in his pictures which is not immediately intelligible to everyone. And he has maintained his faith in the film, as distinct from the talkie, a faith which will be justified. For the silent screen has been his medium and has been endowed with all tlio richness of his personality, a personality which, like all tlio great comics, is wonderfully expressive in pantomime. There are no emotions which have not been woven into the pattern of his films, which have not been gained lightly and beautifully, so why clog this delicacy of feeling with unrevealing words? It is a platitude that no dialogue could reveal as much as Chaplin reveals, unless written by a comedian as great as he. And there will bo no such comedian in this generation.