The great god Pan : a biography of the tramp played by Charles Chaplin (1952)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

THE COMING OF THE CUSTARD PIE 91 when the year was over? In the end he accepted the offer only because Adam Kessel, outraged by Chaplin's I-don'tcare-whether-I-do attitude, offered him a year's contract at one hundred and twenty-five dollars a week. It was the highest price Mack Sennett had ever paid to a beginner, and afterwards he confessed: "I don't know why I did it. I wasn't too hopeful. He was English all the way through, but he could make you laugh till you cried." Mack Sennett in 1913 was at the height of his powers. It was the time of Roscoe Arbuckle, Hank Mann, Chester Conklin, Rube Miller and Ford Sterling. They were superb mimes, comedians by instinct, incapable of lowering themselves to whatever is the pantomime equivalent of a wisecrack, the arch gesture or the calculated applause. The humor was physical and robust. They went out after it like happy warriors. They had no tidy props, no big budgets, no elaborate sets; the scripts were very apt to be written down on someone's cuffs, though Mack Sennett has confessed to writing scripts eight or nine pages long. The scripts were usually torn up half way through. The theme of all the Keystone comediesaltogether there were about nine hundred of them— was simple. Out of whatever props and actors lay at hand, the utmost confusion was made to flower. The aim was a mounting crescendo of madness. The theory behind it all was the same theory which produced the vaudeville: if you mix up a circus, a freak-show and a number of comic turns you get a Keystone comedy. A little later the bathing belles were added. They arrived by accident. Mack Sennett decided that the presence of bathing belles close to the comedians inspired the newspapers to reproduce more photographs from his films. The fabulous mad rush in which cops, comedians and bathing belles all contributed was equally accidental. It had simply happened one day during a street scene that the police interfered. They began to chase the actors and directors who had roped off a part of Hollywood Boulevard, and the cameraman had continued to photograph the chase with a hidden