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.
145
The most striking example of this controlled simplicity is the classic scene of the departure of Marie St. Clair for Paris: it is an example too of the transcendental quality in Chaplin's work, which leaves us pursuing his thought on several different planes at once, a quality that makes his work as subtle and complex as thought itself.
The history of cinema to this date was studded with several scenes of departure stations, where the fullest use had been made of steam and light and shadow, the panting approach and dwindling exit of trains, the crowds and bustle, to symbolize parting or reunion or loss. Then Chaplin brought his genius to bear upon the well-known factors, and once more created the unforgettable in what was perhaps the first expressionistic use of his medium known to America. For here there is none of the plethora of realistic detail. Only the girl poised between light and shadow, quite still. Then the lights from an unseen train are projected upon her, slowing down, coming to a stop. And she comes forward, alone. There is no train, no station, no human being other than the girl. But through his masterly elimination, Chaplin conveys light, shadow and stillness — first the girl on the very brink of what we discover immediately afterwards to be the destruction of her integrity and the beginning of her tragedy. Then, there is the panic of being alone at night in darkness that is part of our ancient heritage of fear, that has its immediate application to the girl waiting on the brink of a precipice. With all this, such beauty of light and shadow and the dark, still girl that for this scene alone, cinema may rightly be termed an art, to rank with the highest. The feeling of the whole film is as sombre and doomladen as any Greek tragedy, a masterly accusation of puritanism, a denunciation of a shallow, elegant society that Chaplin had discovered to be without faith or heart. Being what they are, the characters must react as they do; and fate steps in at every turn to ensure their tragedy.
1925— The Gold Rush (9 reels). Released 16th August.
Cast: Charlie Chaplin, Mack Swain, Tom Murray, Georgia Hale, Betty Morrissey, Malcolm Waite, Henry Bergman
(Re-issued April, 1942, with music and commentary by Chaplin)
Perhaps Chaplin's most famous film. Contains several unforgettable shots — Charlie's lonely silhouette against the immense snows of Alaska — the episode of the stewed boots — the avalanche that carries his log cabin to the edge of the precipice and leaves it rocking over space.
The most poignant scenes are those of the party to which no one came, together with the dance of the rolls, which transcend all else.