Debbie Vega at Moon in Gemini is hosting the genius blogathon The Greatest Film I've Never Seen from November 16th to 18th. What is the big gap in your film viewing? Will you love it? Will you be disappointed? Click HERE to discover the answers to those questions and more.
Over the years, I have seen a clip here and a clip there from Chaplin's Modern Times but had not seen the movie.
Did I think I didn't need to see it? After all, I do know how it ends thanks to this famous image. Did I not want to see it? The title and the things I had read all talked about this being Chaplin's commentary on 20th Century life. Maybe I thought it was going to be preachy. Truth be told, the very opening scene which likened a herd of sheep to the crowds in a city made me grimace. However, I soldiered on and I am very glad I did so.
Our Tramp is a small cog in the great wheel of civilization, sometimes literally. Bosses and cops and preconceptions are aligned against him. I expected the pathos, but for some reason, I didn't expect the laughs and Charlie the clown gave me plenty of them.
Pushed around at his factory job to the point of being a guinea pig for a feeding machine the Tramp goes off the deep end and is sent to a sanitarium. Upon release, he is mistaken for a "Red" (wonder where he got that idea) and ends up a convict who becomes an unlikely hero who gets kicked out of his cushy cell and back to the cold streets.
It is back on those cold streets that he comes across "The Gamin" and they befriend each other. Paulette Goddard plays this orphan who was destined for an institution with her two younger sisters. She sought freedom, no matter the cost. The odd yet simpatico pair dream of having a home someday.
This is the Chaplin of The Rink, as he defies gravity and common sense roller skating during a wonderful segment in which he and The Gamin spend the night in a Department Store. The night watchman job was one of a series of "ups" which is always too quickly followed by a "down." We even get the Tramp of The Cure when he inadvertently gets soused.
Frequent co-stars of the past, Tiny Sandford as a factory co-worker and Chester Conklin as a chief mechanic, add to the nostalgia and the fun of the 1936 release, a mostly silent movie in the era of talkies. Originally planned as a talkie, writer/director/composer/editor Charlie Chaplin thought better of letting the Tramp speak. It was so unlike him! Instead, during one of the "up" periods when The Gamin is dancing in a cafe, she gets her friend the job of a singing waiter. Chaplin is heard onscreen singing delightful gibberish accompanied by an equally delightful pantomime. The creator remained true to his creation.
Chaplin's compositions arranged by David Raksin and Edward Powell, and conducted by Alfred Newman are superb. I admit to getting a little weepy when Smile is played in the score, but I spent most of this movie smiling and chuckling and laughing out loud.
Modern Times was placed on the National Film Registry in 1989. It is a genuine classic and no longer the greatest movie I have never seen.
Did I think I didn't need to see it? After all, I do know how it ends thanks to this famous image. Did I not want to see it? The title and the things I had read all talked about this being Chaplin's commentary on 20th Century life. Maybe I thought it was going to be preachy. Truth be told, the very opening scene which likened a herd of sheep to the crowds in a city made me grimace. However, I soldiered on and I am very glad I did so.
Our Tramp is a small cog in the great wheel of civilization, sometimes literally. Bosses and cops and preconceptions are aligned against him. I expected the pathos, but for some reason, I didn't expect the laughs and Charlie the clown gave me plenty of them.
Pushed around at his factory job to the point of being a guinea pig for a feeding machine the Tramp goes off the deep end and is sent to a sanitarium. Upon release, he is mistaken for a "Red" (wonder where he got that idea) and ends up a convict who becomes an unlikely hero who gets kicked out of his cushy cell and back to the cold streets.
It is back on those cold streets that he comes across "The Gamin" and they befriend each other. Paulette Goddard plays this orphan who was destined for an institution with her two younger sisters. She sought freedom, no matter the cost. The odd yet simpatico pair dream of having a home someday.
This is the Chaplin of The Rink, as he defies gravity and common sense roller skating during a wonderful segment in which he and The Gamin spend the night in a Department Store. The night watchman job was one of a series of "ups" which is always too quickly followed by a "down." We even get the Tramp of The Cure when he inadvertently gets soused.
Frequent co-stars of the past, Tiny Sandford as a factory co-worker and Chester Conklin as a chief mechanic, add to the nostalgia and the fun of the 1936 release, a mostly silent movie in the era of talkies. Originally planned as a talkie, writer/director/composer/editor Charlie Chaplin thought better of letting the Tramp speak. It was so unlike him! Instead, during one of the "up" periods when The Gamin is dancing in a cafe, she gets her friend the job of a singing waiter. Chaplin is heard onscreen singing delightful gibberish accompanied by an equally delightful pantomime. The creator remained true to his creation.
Chaplin's compositions arranged by David Raksin and Edward Powell, and conducted by Alfred Newman are superb. I admit to getting a little weepy when Smile is played in the score, but I spent most of this movie smiling and chuckling and laughing out loud.
Modern Times was placed on the National Film Registry in 1989. It is a genuine classic and no longer the greatest movie I have never seen.

















































