LIMELIGHT (Chaplin, 1952)
Criterion Collection, Blu-ray, Release Date May 19, 2015
Review by Christopher S. Long
Charlie Chaplin's portrayal of the
aging comedian Calvero who has lost touch with his audience is
indisputably autobiographical, but don't let that lull you into a
simplistic reading of “Limelight” (1952), Chaplin's final
American film.
“Limelight” opens in London in
1914, the exact time when 25-year-old Chaplin's unparallelled
Hollywood success story was opening its first chapter at Keystone
Studios. By contrast, Calvero (played by a 60-year-old Chaplin) has
already traded in success for the transient companionship of the
whiskey bottle. Partially in denial, Calvero tries and fails to win
over jaded audiences with hoary song-and-dance numbers and a
pantomimed invisible flea circus routine that scratches precisely
nobody's itch. His used to slay 'em; now he puts 'em to sleep.
The parallel to Chaplin's (in)famous
one-man holdout against the talking picture is obvious, but the aging
Calvero shouldn't be conflated with the aging Chaplin, not directly
at least. Chaplin had experienced his first commercial flop in
decades when he dared to turn the beloved Tramp into a serial
wife-killer in his previous film “Monsieur Verdoux” (1947), but
it was one of the very few blips in a nearly unbroken string of
critical and box office triumphs by a movie star whose career spanned
almost the entire existence of movie stars. Chaplin viewed the
failure of “Verdoux” as an aberration, partially attributable to
the terrible press he was receiving at the time due to the very
public paternity suit filed against him by actress Joan Barry. He was
confident that the still knew exactly what the public wanted and
fully expected “Limelight” to be another hit.
Chaplin had, however, seen virtually
all of his music hall and silent film contemporaries fall by the
wayside, some done in by the emergence of cinema itself, others by
film's traumatic shift to sound, a few by alcohol and depression. No
doubt he was anxious about just how long he could be the sole
survivor, but Calvero should be seen as an amalgam: part Chaplin,
part Chaplin Sr. (the absentee father whose Calvero-like career and
life was cut short by booze), and parts of various entertainers like
Frank Tinney, a once-famous blackface comedian whose decline once
prompted Chaplin to observe, “The Muse had left him.”
And so Calvero sings and dances and
tumbles for increasingly unappreciative crowds; one audience heckler
suggests it's time for him to go back home and, with a stiff tip of
the cap, our hero agrees with the cruel but honest assessment. But
while Calvero's professional comeback seems unlikely, hope arrives in
an unexpected form. Stumbling home one afternoon to his empty
apartment, the broken-down drunk Calvero briefly summons a sober and
heroic impulse when he rescues an aspiring ballerina named Terry from
a suicide attempt. Played by relative neophyte Claire Bloom, Terry
assumes her place in the pantheon of blind flower girls and gamines
from Chaplin's oeuvre, all damsels in various states of distress.
Partially paralyzed, Terry remains bedridden as Calvero nurses her
back to health and urges her on to the stardom he now believes he
will never recapture for himself.
This thread produces some of the film's
strongest and weakest sequences. Conversations between Calvero and
the bedridden Terry grind the film's pace to a halt at times, their
repetitive, strictly functional editing anchoring a performer
renowned for his ethereal grace. The pantomime-loving Chaplin had
long ago warned that “action always has to wait for dialogue” and
these scenes seem to prove his point. Yet when a fully recuperated
Terry finally takes the stage, her lengthy ballet performance (with
professional dancer Melissa Hayden as stand-in) as Columbine, the
result is movie magic, and a scene Chaplin considered one of the most
satisfying achievements of his career as he composed and
choreographed it all.
Bloom brings a wide-eyed innocence to
her role that is undeniably attractive and “Limelight” benefits
from the presence of a series of great supporting players including
Nigel Bruce and Norman Lloyd, but the star attraction remains the
same as in almost all of Chaplin's films: Charlie Chaplin. One of
Chaplin's many unique gifts was the ability to teeter constantly on
the edge of mawkishness without ever tumbling over. His infinitely
expressive face can conjure any reaction on command and he knew how
to work his sad eyes, his rueful smile, his comical gait to perfect
effect whenever need, like striking keys on a piano. Chaplin is so at
ease with his sixty-plus years that he seems every bit as impish and
youthful as in his most Trampish days while also mining every wrinkle
on his face for its accumulated wisdom. Calvero is both clearly past
his time and utterly timeless.
The finest example of this qualilty is
in the show-stopping finale which pairs a resilient Calvero
with his unnamed former stage partner
played by the great Buster Keaton who had not quite made the
transition to sound as seamlessly as Chaplin. Teamed up for the first
time in a feature film, Chaplin and Keaton absolutely blow off the
roof. The old guard still has to clear the stage for the youth wave,
but they might as well show them how to do it right before taking
their final bows. This final number would justify the entire film by
itself, but it is merely the topper on a movie filled with delights.
Chaplin's confidence in the commercial
prospects for “Limelight” proved unfounded. But then the film
never really got a chance, at least in America. Hounded by charges
that he was a Communist (false) and a moral degenerate (depends on
your POV), Chaplin, a resident alien who had never filed for American
citizenship, was denied re-entry to the United States after a trip to
London for the film's world premiere. Instead of fighting the
charges, Chaplin decided to relocate his family and his business,
eventually settling in Switzerland where he proved he wasn't done
working just yet. “Limelight” barely played in America due to
numerous protests and wouldn't get an “official” Los Angeles
opening until 1972.
“Limelight” survived. So did
Chaplin. As for the various demagogues who nipped at Chaplin's heels,
when's the last time you heard about any of them?
Video:
The film is presented in its original
1.37:1 aspect ratio. This transfer is sourced from a restoration
conducted by Criterion and the Cineteca di Bologna. The result is
quite impressive and certainly a massive improvement over the
mediocre (though serviceable) transfers on the 2003 DVD from Warner
Brothers. Image detail isn't razor sharp as with the top-line
Criterion high-def transfers but it's very strong. Black-and-white
contrast is both rich and subtle with a soft, naturalistic look
throughout.
Audio:
The linear PCM Mono track is solid if
unremarkable. There are a few minor drop-offs from time to time that
are probably due to the source material, but nothing that detracts
meaningfully from the experience. Optional English subtitles support
the English audio.
Extras:
Criterion has included several new
features for this 2015 Blu-ray release as well as some older features
from a prior release.
The new features begins with a new
video essay by preeminent Chaplin biographer David Robinson (2015, 21
min.) Robinson discusses the film's lengthy and unusual genesis,
including mention of how Chaplin wrote a novel (called “Footlights”)
instead of a screenplay to prepare the film; it included extended
character backgrounds that didn't make it directly into the final
film.
The disc also includes new interviews
with actress Claire Bloom (2015, 16 min.) and
actor/producer/everything-else Norman Lloyd (2012, 15 min.) My note
on Bloom's interview is simply “Wow!”, a reaction to how
charismatic she is. The magic of a disc like this: you can fall in
love with 20-year-old Bloom in the movie and then again with
80-year-old Bloom on this feature. She has plenty to say about her
first-time film experience with such a controlling and brilliant
director. Lloyd is in his late-90's in this interview and is sharp as
could be.
Another new inclusion on this Criterion
release is the 1915 Chaplin short film “A Night in the Show” (25
min.) This is one of the later non-Tramp performances by Chaplin in
the silent era and sees him in two roles as Mr. Pest and Mr. Rowdy
causing havoc at a theater which features star acts such as La Belle
Wienerwurst and Tootsy Frutti the Snake Charmer. This one cracked me
the heck up. It has been restored by Lobster Film in 2014 and looks
remarkably clear though also with little grain evident, suggesting
some strong digital boosting. The film is accompanied by a new 2014
by composer Timothy Block.
The disc also includes several features
that are also available on the 2003 Warner Bros. DVD release of
“Limelight.” These include the short documentary “Chaplin
Today: 'Limelight'” (2002, 27 min.) directed by Edgar Cozarinsky
and featuring archival footage as well as interviews with Claire
Bloom, actor Sydney Chaplin (Charlie's son) and director Bernardo
Bertolucci.
The older features continue with a
Deleted Scene (4 min.) in which Calvero meets an armless man, a
former colleague from the stage as well as two brief Audio Excerpts
(2 min. total) of Chaplin reading from “Footlights,” the novel he
prepared for the film.
Finally, we get a six-minute excerpt
from the unfinished 1919 short “The Professor” in which Chaplin
performs the invisible flea circus bit that resurfaces in
“Limelight.”
The collection concludes with several
Trailers, running four minutes total.
The thick 40-page insert booklet begins
with an essay by the late, great critic and filmmaker Peter von Bagh
and continues with an on-set report written in 1952 by United Press
correspondent Henry Gris. It was apparently only published in
excerpts in a few newspapers and was later discoveered among the
Chaplin archives.
Film Value:
Because I screened this film as part of
a course last year, I've now seen “Limelight” five times in the
past ten months or so. It has grown on me each time. The sequences
with Calvero talking to the bedridden Terry still drag for me, but
when Chaplin/Calvero is on stage, it's magical. And it's just
extraordinary to witness how Chaplin can generate just as much
sympathy as a sexagenarian in the sound era as he did as the young,
impish Tramp in a distant silent age. I guess the secret is talent.
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