If any single figure can fairly be said to symbolize the glory years of the silent filmsthe cinema's truly international epochit is Charles Chaplin's indomitable tramp
The Little Fellow, as millions came to call him, was at once tatty and debonair, brow-beaten and irrepressibly optimisticand he was, without question, the best-loved international star in all of film history
His coat was too small, his pants too large, his mustache patently falseand the resultant silhouette instantly recognizable wherever movies were shown Charlie Chaplin's tramp spoke to all walks of lifeand never more eloquently than in such silent films as "The Kid," and "The Gold Rush."
"The Gold Rush" is superb It deals with Charlie's adventures to win the affection of a local dance-hall girl, and his hilarious efforts to avoid being eaten by bears and by prospectors who are bigger and hungrier than he
The most memorable scene is one in which he dines on an old shoe Chaplin's exquisite grace, turned the boiled shoe into a gourmet feast: he carves it carefully, smacks his lips in anticipation, and then eats it with gusto and appreciation, sucking the nails as if they contained the most juices and twirling the laces around his fork as if they were spaghetti
His coat was too small, his pants too large, his mustache patently falseand the resultant silhouette instantly recognizable wherever movies were shown Charlie Chaplin's tramp spoke to all walks of lifeand never more eloquently than in such silent films as "The Kid," and "The Gold Rush."
"The Gold Rush" is superb It deals with Charlie's adventures to win the affection of a local dance-hall girl, and his hilarious efforts to avoid being eaten by bears and by prospectors who are bigger and hungrier than he
The most memorable scene is one in which he dines on an old shoe Chaplin's exquisite grace, turned the boiled shoe into a gourmet feast: he carves it carefully, smacks his lips in anticipation, and then eats it with gusto and appreciation, sucking the nails as if they contained the most juices and twirling the laces around his fork as if they were spaghetti