City Lights (1931)

Directed and produced by Charles Chaplin

Penniless and homeless, a Little Tramp (Charlie Chaplin) is one day instantly smitten with a blind flower-seller (Virginia Cherrill). That evening, while dreamily thinking about the girl, he saves a drunken millionaire (Harry Myers) from suicide. The Tramp is proclaimed the millionaire’s new best pal – only to be disowned when the rich man wakes, sober and forgetful, the next morning. This on-again, off-again friendship complicates the Tramp’s life and his attempts to help the girl – or does it?

From the start, City Lights is different than other movies. It was a silent film at the start of sound, the popularity of which with the public was immediate. City Lights was not made in defiance of the new trend, or in the belief that it was a passing phase. Instead, Chaplin felt, rightly so, that his character would not translate well to sound. Instead, we are given exactly what the title card states: a romantic comedy in pantomime, and, ninety years after its debut, it remains a superb film.

It is natural that some movies will date badly. This is not unique to silent films, though of course they have a built-in disadvantage, since the cinema is meant to be more realistic than the theatre. Silent films often required exaggeration in the facial expressions and actions of the performers, and these, compared to those of sound movies, especially the later ones with their close-ups and camera techniques, can be tiresome.

Chaplin eschews such grossness except when it assists drama or comedy. The humour of City Lights could fit any decade and surpasses much that came after. There aren’t many movies that make me laugh aloud, but this is one of them. There is an effortlessness to it that may have come from Chaplin’s background in the music halls. For instance, a scene in which the Little Tramp tries to remove a rope from the millionaire’s neck, only to find it around his own has a sleight-of-hand quality to it that may have come from watching magicians on stage.

As well, Chaplin knew the value of restraint, of the worth of what is implied rather than seen. At one point, the Tramp has a job which clearly involves shovelling dung - horse dung, principally - from the streets. The debris is never shown, which increases the humour when he first sees one horse go by, then a team of them, and finally a circus elephant trot down the lane.

The acting is very good, not what is frequently expected in silent films. Myers is a particular asset; his morose expression when the millionaire is depressed is priceless. Cherrill is suitably sweet as the object of the Tramp’s love. Even those playing the minor characters do well, such as Hank Mann as a boxer.

The writing is also excellent. Much is contrived, as comedic situations often are, but even if we think we know how the Tramp will be able to help the girl, we can’t be sure, and we don’t foresee all the complications that are thrown in his path, or how he will surmount them. There are little moments that are gems, such as when another hobo (John Rand) dives for a discarded cigar but is beaten to the prize by Chaplin’s Tramp - who has just emerged from a Rolls Royce.

Silent films may offer the best example in cinema of how acting, writing and directing come together to create a whole. This is especially true of the poignant moments in City Lights, such as the when we see the Tramp’s longing for the girl, or when he is hauled off to jail (flippancy in the face of injustice can often be poignant.) And of course there is the ending, in both the double meaning of the girl’s last line and the face of the Tramp.

This scene epitomizes, I think, why City Lights, and Chaplin’s enduring and endearing character of the Little Tramp, are justly celebrated. He has nothing – he’s a moneyless ex-convict in rags – yet his joy is unbounded and unalloyed at seeing someone else have everything. In that moment, Chaplin expresses altruism in its purest form.

There is not much to fault in City Lights, from its semi-allegoric beginning to its sublime ending. This is one of cinema’s masterpieces.