home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search
- The Gold Rush
-
-
- (JULY 6, 1925)
-
- The Gold Rush. All the notables for miles around had gathered
- in the Egyptian Theatre to see Charles S. Chaplin in The Gold
- Rush-the picture 9,000 feet long which has taken him two years
- to make and of which he had remarked: "This is the picture I
- want to be remembered by," needless of the fact that his press
- agent was listening.
-
- On the screen, a shadow flickered--a shadow with feet like
- box-cars and a smile like the last soliloquy of Hamlet. He was
- a tenderfoot. the date was the year of Our Lord 1896--a period
- in which gentlemen were proud to spend several thousand dollars
- of lousy paper money to dig up a couple of ounces of mica in
- the Klondike....A blizzard. A straggling company of raged
- montebanks passing through a wintry defile; Chilkoot Pass.
- Chaplin left behind in the dash for gold, blown to the door of
- a lonely cabin. Does the hearty Westerner within open his door,
- warm the tattered stranger with a glass of whiskey? No; he
- snarls through a crack in the window; Chilly Chaplin reels off
- in the storm...
-
- The violinists in the Egyptian Theatre played another
- tune...This is a dance hall...Old stuff about an endearing note
- which Chaplin receives by mistake...Out to make his pile so
- that he can wed the Klondike Kitty Kelly...More
- prospectors...The big strike; the search for the girl, the scene
- on board the ocean liner in which the stunted erstwhile
- prospector, now in purple and fine sable, lounges on the first
- cabin, his heart aswoon for a vanished barmaid...while down in
- the steerage the girl tosses on her midnight pallet, wishing for
- her hobo-brummel.
-
- An epic in comedy, written, directed, acted by a man who
- understands the cinema is a medium of high art only because it
- can be used, as can no other medium to express the illimitable
- diversity of life.
-
- His first efforts to be funny in celluloid were dismal.
- Keystone directors feared that he was overpaid, offered to
- cancel the contract. Chaplin told Roscoe Arbuckle, the now
- deposed cinema clown, that he needed a pair of shoes. Arbuckle
- tossed him a pair of his own enormous brogues. "There you are,
- man," he said, "Perfect fit!" Chaplin put them on, cocked his
- battered derby over his ear, twisted the ends of his prim
- mustache. His face was very sad. He attempted a jaunty walk
- which became, inevitably, a heart-breaking waddle. He put his
- hand on the seat of his trousers, spun on his heel. Arbuckle
- told him that he was almost funny. Such as the research that led
- him to "create a figure that would be a living satire on every
- human vanity."
-
- In three months, the U.S. raved; in six, England shrieked; in
- a year his hat, feet, waddle and harassed, insouciant smirk
- were familiar to South Sea Islanders who pasted his picture on
- the walls of their bath-houses; to lamas in Tibet who chucked
- each other in the ribs at a mention of his name; to bushwackers,
- coolies, Cossacks, Slavs, Nordics.
-
-