The Kid

I just watched Charlie Chaplin's The Kid. I don't know how to put my emotions into words.

Sometime a while back, I was up really late one night just kinda hanging out. I don't remember why I was up so late. I think my parents were out of town or something, so I took that as a chance to do whatever the hell I wanted. So I stayed up late watching old movies, because that's what I used to really like to do [I still do on occasion, but not as much as I used to; I used to be obsessed with old films]. Anyways, I was watching a movie on TCM, and then a documentary on Charlie Chaplin came on. I was kinda watching it, kinda not, but then they showed the footage of Chaplin reciting that immortal speech at the end of The Great Dictator. I was mesmerized. These words he was saying, these beautiful beautiful words, they were so...brave. I think that's the one quality Chaplin exuded: bravery. He made that film one year into WWII, when Hitler had already risen to power and the state of the world was in peril. He made that gorgeous gorgeous film, and poked fun at Hitler and the war and greed and all of that nonsense. He stood up to the dictators of the world through film. Sure it was a lot of slapstick stuff, lots of cheap shots and physical humor, but at the end, we see the real method behind the madness. In a speech Chaplin wrote himself, he speaks directly into the camera, no longer in the Little Tramp persona, but as himself, as the genius himself, staring right into our hearts and our souls, and convincing us that this is not our future. He calls out to the people, in this treacherous time of warfare, and tells us to unite. No one did that back then. NO ONE. Everything was supposed to be very hush hush. But Chaplin rebelled against it and restored hope in the fate of mankind. The first time I saw that speech...my mind was blown. I vowed that I would use my knowledge in the same way he did, and try to make a difference in the world through art.

I became very obsessed with him after that. I watched The Great Dictator over and over again, and researched him like mad. I checked IMDB at least once a week, seeing if anyone had added any more interesting facts to his profile, so that I could know more. I memorized that speech. I wrote it down over and over, my mind wrapping itself around each word. I found his life so fascinating. He was one of the only actors from the silent era to successfully cross over to the "talkies", and all of his films always had such beautiful hidden themes. His Little Tramp character wasn't just some idiot messing around in society, he was personifying the idea of simplicity, of judgments made on the unknowing and the unaware, of ignorance. The Little Tramp was the ultimate fool, falling into the hard times of society and working his way through purely by chance. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't a villain; he just enjoyed the world, and unintentionally showed others how to enjoy it, too. Sure it was goofy, it was foolish, and downright elementary humor, but it was beautifully choreographed, and always filled with specific meaning.

Chaplin's always had a special place in my heart since that night. I did a couple art pieces based on him, wrote a couple reports, I even purchased a porcelain Chaplin doll from a thrift store [it was my most prized possession for a very long time]. But as my obsessions usually do, my interest in him began to die out, and eventually I moved onto something else. I didn't forget about him, I just didn't dwell on him as much.

Today, I sat down on the living room couch after making myself a smoothie and flipped on the TV. When it turned on, there was my good old buddy Charlie on the screen, wearing his traditional Little Tramp get-up. I don't know what film it was, but it was marvelous. There was a child involved, and several antics surrounding the child and Chaplin, such as getting stuck to fly paper and accidentally frosting a hat instead of a cake because of unfortunate placement. It was a silent film, and although there were no words, I was still on the floor laughing at all of Chaplin's antics. He can make the simplest things hilarious. The film ended with him being stranded on the border of the US and Mexico, with nowhere to go. We see him start walking away from the camera, in his Little Tramp walk, with one foot in Mexico and the other in the US. That's another thing about Chaplin's classic Little Tramp films--they always end with him being placed in an awful situation or setting, but all he does is shrug his shoulder and carry on. You never feel bad for him, or sad, or worried, you just know he'll figure it out.

So after that movie ended, the documentary I stayed up watching all those years ago came on, and I watched a little bit of it. They did a whole segment on The Kid, which I had missed the first time I saw that documentary, so I placed close attention this time. The clips they showed, and the things they talked about that inspired that film...I began to cry it was so beautiful. I'd forgotten how fucking genius Chaplin was. So tonight, I watched The Kid. Lucky for me, it was on YouTube in 5 parts.

That film is too beautiful for its own good. I cannot think of a single film that has surpassed that raw beauty, not even in our modern world. The fact that it is a silent film, except for the wonderfully orchestrated soundtrack composed by Charlie Chaplin as well, and it still can express unholy amounts of beauty...well, that just blows my mind. I don't know how that is done, but it is. No words, just music. Just music and facial expressions and specific movements make that film.

It starts out with a new mother. She is walking out of a hospital carrying her newborn in much despair. She had the child out of wedlock, and the father took off. She is poor and basically homeless. She feels she cannot care for this child. So one day she walks past an orphanage and decided to leave the child in the backseat of a car parked outside of the orphanage with a note saying "Please provide love and care for this orphan child." Unfortunately, the car gets stolen by a couple of thieves, and when they find out there is a child in the backseat, they pull the car over, leave the child in an alleyway, and then drive off. Enter our Little Tramp, minding his own business, out for a leisurely walk. He comes across the child, and after trying to force it upon about 3 other people, he finds the note wrapped inside the baby's blanket, and makes the decision to take the child home.

Five years pass, and the child grows into a little boy. The Tramp and the boy have developed a strong bond by now, and are quite a team. They do everything together. Unfortunately, the little boy becomes sick and requires medical attention. Chaplin has a doctor come to their small apartment and check up on the little boy. He does, and then asks Chaplin a few question about the boy. At one point he asks Chaplin if he is the boy's father, to which Chaplin says, "Well--practically." The doctor asks him what he means by that, and Chaplin tells him the story and shows him the note he found. The doctor tells him he needs immediate care and attention, and then leaves to tell child services, unbeknownst to our dear Tramp. Child services eventually ends up coming to take the child away, and the Tramp fights with all of his might to get the child back. At one point he wrestles three people at once, just doing all that he can to get his dear boy back. The child fights, too, but their efforts are useless. The boy is thrown into the back of a truck marked "Orphan Asylum", and begins pleading and crying for our Little Tramp. There are several close-ups on the sweet boy of him pleading a crying and screaming, and there is so much emotion in his face and so much feeling being thrown out there, you can almost hear his cries. The acting in that scene is brilliant. Through some stream of chance, Chaplin somehow eludes the people who wrestled him down earlier and after jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he tumbles into the back of the truck that the little boy is riding in. Chaplin grabs the boy tightly, plants a huge kiss on him, and they just sit there and cry, holding each other. Chaplin fights off the driver of the vehicle, and takes the boy to safety.

In the meantime, the boy's mother who abandoned him all those years ago, becomes a famous stage actress, and develops a great life for herself. The story often flips over to her and we see how guilty she feels about leaving her child behind. We know she is always looking for him. At one point, she ventures into the town that the little boy lives in, and they actually stumble across each other. She gives him an apple and a stuffed dog, and they share a wonderful moment. It was the hardest thing in the world for me to watch. Because the audience knows that she is his real mother, but he doesn't know it's her, and she has no idea that it is her son, and yet they are sitting next to each other, giggling and having fun for those few brief minutes. I could not stop crying when that happened. That moment and the moment when the boy was taken were the real tear-jerkers.

So the Tramp and the boy flee to a hostel where they can stay the night and then regroup in the morning. Unfortunately, a $1000 reward has been issued for the retrieval of the young boy, and when the owner of the hostel makes the connection of the young boy and the ad for the reward, he steals the boy during the night and takes him to the police station. Chaplin wakes up literally 30 seconds after this happens and immediately freaks out when he notices his beloved boy is gone. He wakes up everyone in the hostel and runs out the door to find him. He unfortunately does not find him, and the boy is taken to the police station. The boy's mother is there, though [somehow she figured out he was hers], and she takes him home to live with her.

The next scene opens up on the Little Tramp at dawn. He has wandered around all night searching for the little boy. He ends up back at his crummy apartment, but the door to the building he lives in is locked, and he doesn't have his key. So he takes rest on the stoop of the building and then an elaborate dream sequence occurs, which I am sure is some play on society and the nature of mankind, because the scene starts out with everyone in the neighborhood dressed as angels, playing harps and all that, and then the words "Sin creeps in" come up and we see a couple guys dressed as devils sneak into their town and start corrupting everyone. I really don't know what it has to do with the plot, I'm sure it was just some play on the world constructed by dear Chaplin. Anyways, he is awoken from this dream by a disgruntled policemen, who seizes him by the collar and drags him away from the building. We think he is dragging him to the police station, but as it turns out, he drags him to the residence of the boy's mother. We see the door to the house open and the little boy run out into the Tramp's arms. THE END.

I cannot label the feelings I have after watching this film. There are just too many, and they are far too grand to be described in mere words. Words mean nothing compared to what I felt.

But not only is this film moving and beautiful, it is also hilarious and witty. The scenes between the boy and the Tramp are priceless. They just work so well together and are so sweet to each other, and their slapstick humor is spot on. It makes for a very funny movie on top of being brilliant.

Goddam it, Charlie. You have my heart once again. Of course, you and Devendra Banhart are gonna have to fight over it. Ugh, I don't even want to try and go into that other section of my life.