A Movie Nearly Every Night: Chaplin

Chaplin (1992)

Dir: Richard Attenborough
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Geraldine Chaplin, Paul Rhys, John Thaw, Moira Kelly, Anthony Hopkins

My parents went to see the new Sherlock Holmes last weekend and loved it. Since I don't like going to movies alone I stayed at home and put on an older Downey picture. We just watched Tati's Playtime (that I will post about as soon as I can get the dvd and take screen shots -- the Bluray is brilliant on the tv; bad for the pc), so I figured I'd watch Chaplin as a kind of Downey-clown cercle rouge. I don't think I'd seen it all the way through since the theater, so, like Harry Potter, it was kind of new to me to watch it with hindsight, knowing what would come later for Robert Downey Jr.

But weirder still is thinking of what he'd done before this movie. I mean, honestly, Less Than Zero is probably the biggest role and it's such a silly, neon mess (with the exception, as always, of the cool and stylish Spader) -- how did he get this big job in the first place?

But he's so naturally Chaplin, from the start, and it's not his voice or that his hair looks like Chaplin's or any of the outer trappings, but it's how he moves through Chaplin's ages and experiences, making each stage subtle through gestures and body language (regardless of how rubbery the makeup gets in the later years).

Old man fidgeting and insecurity shines through the latex

Like the way he watches movies for the first time in a barn in Montana. It's one of those bio-movie pivotal moments (although Attentborough wisely holds back on the swelling music until it's done, thank God), but it could easily be over acted. Let's face it, bio-movies are by genre obvious and over done because they have to throw 80 years of a person's life at you in 2.5 hours. But Downey slows it down. He plays it with an expression of subtle fascination and almost scientific interest, and this little thing he does with his hat, as though to protect himself from revealing too much or taking too much in, like a geisha hiding behind a fan.

Charlie and Stan Laurel (Matthew Cottle) take in the flickers

Narratively, he's watching a short moment of film again and again, but he still raises his hat at "the best part" and covers the lower part of his face. Stan tosses it off with "I've seen it -- you've got a telegram." Chaplin's seen it too, but no matter how often they run it it's still drawing him in and making him react with that shield to protect himself, like he's going to let out a shout each time. It's an unspoken, entirely acted, revealing moment in the character, showing us the feeling Chaplin seemed to want to reproduce later in his own films.

Sure, again, bio-pic, so there are plenty of obvious moments ("people are poor ... I'll make Modern Times"), but when he comes up with The Great Dictator it's better than the other "pivotal" moments. Chaplin tells his brother (Paul Rhys) that he wants to make this movie because he "understands" Hitler ("I know you, you bastard," he says) and that they're very similar: born the same year, 4 days apart, etc... It's a few lines of dialogue that can be tossed off in a hurry to move the scene along, but it's played with this middle-aged intensity from a guy who was, what, 26 when this movie was made? But Downey is driven, charismatic, embodying the role of Chaplin as Chaplin embodies the role of the dictator, because he understands him. It's film about film, character as character as character (for more on that see Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, another interesting character movie with the Downey Jr. and, yes, Val Kilmer ... it's good. Better than you think. Okay, you just have to trust me).

Of course, Chaplin's not the only great character in the movie. Kevin Kline makes a dashing and complex Douglas Fairbanks. I love Doug. I have the above picture in a frame over my desk because they all look so happy and they're all getting along so well. It's a very pleasant moment, even though it's posed. It's like they're about to fall off his shoulders and Doug's the only one who doesn't seem to think that will happen.

Doug in retrospect

He was a larger than life man who couldn't handle things falling apart --- love, his physical shape, the movie business -- and Kline plays him big, but adds the little sad moments, like catching his reflection in the murky bartop and knowing that Laugh and Live is a great name for a book, but not a perfect philosophy in the end.