City Lights (1931)
I’ve been searching for weeks for the words to describe a film that has no words at all. It’s caused me significant grief attempting to write about a film that I figured would be one of the easiest for me to write about. I’ve been watching Charlie Chaplin films since I was a young boy, maybe 10 or 11. City Lights fell within the first few pictures I caught myself sucked into by Turner Classic Movies, an old movie channel that ended up being a godsend to me in my high school years.
I grew up in a time without streaming. Well, let me rephrase. I grew up in a time where streaming was just gaining footing. At the time of writing this, there’s more than a handful of major streaming services now. All worth more independently than they would have been worth together in 2009. Back then, I didn’t get to choose which old movie I’d be watching that day. An old movie just popped up on the television and if I liked it then I kept it on. Spoiler alert: I usually kept them on. The first Chaplin picture I saw was actually The Great Dictator (TGD) which released 9 years after City Lights, TGD had a profound effect on me. I still consider it my favorite film of all to this day. There will be more on that later, I’m sure of it.
I know the question you are asking yourself. Why is City Lights important? Why the hell do I care? Isn’t that the name of a book store? Okay, the last question was mostly just for laughs. It’s a famous book store in San Francisco founded by Lawrence Ferlinghetti. But the first two questions are precisely why I’m writing this blog post. City Lights is important to me the way the Mona Lisa is important to an art historian. The Mona Lisa is delicate and at over 500 years old it’s a part of history that no one on this earth today ever experienced, painted by a man we’ve only heard stories about, Da Vinci. Statue of David by Michelangelo, also over 500 years old, Sistine Chapel, Starry Night, The Last Supper. All of these are pieces of art that remain unforgotten. It took work and education to help people understand the significance of these artworks. This is my Mona Lisa. Stick around, I’ll tell you why.
The Library of Congress estimates over 75% of all silent films are lost forever and the Film Foundation further estimates over 90% of all American films shot between 1894 and 1929 have been lost forever. There’s varying reasons for this. A massive fire took many of them in the early 30’s at Fox. Another fire in the 60’s at MGM. Some scrapped what they had not thinking much of it. Others held on to their copies, but they didn’t care for them properly and they ended up degrading over time. Films were shot on celluloid (film stock) and from time to time still are (The Hateful Eight). This is why it’s been important to restore old films. It’s time sensitive! They can possibly repair damage and then transfer it digitally so it’ll always be there. A lot of Chaplins films are going through that process now, or did in the last ten years or so. We’ve been deemed lucky enough to have access to the small percentage of silent pictures that are still around today. We should take advantage of it and see for ourselves where all of this started.
I’ve been asked time and time again what it is I enjoy so much about old movies and I think one of the constant themes for me would be the simplicity of it all. Special Effects (SFX) were kept to a minimum and when used they had to be practical because well, it was the 1920’s and 1930’s and true SFX technology wouldn’t start making a break into films until around the 50’s or so. It was all on a sound stage or the back lot of the studio. Changes would have to be made and things became less simple as talkies started advancing in the industry in 1927 with The Jazz Singer. For example, it was common to shoot films outside. You didn’t need enclosures because noise pollution didn’t matter all that much. This eventually changed, Chaplin & United Artists both built enclosed studios in the following years.
I’m prone to rambling, especially on topics such as these. I’ll try to keep on the path, wherever it may lead. City Lights would become a first for Chaplin.. Sound became the defining factor in a film that had no sound at all. Principal photography began in late December 1928 and wrapped September 1930, they shot 314,256 feet of film over 190 shooting days. That’s nearly 60 miles of footage and the completed reel ran about 8,000 feet; just over a mile. Chaplin himself put nearly three years of work into the project alone. It proved to be the most challenging of his career.
A comedy romance in pantomime…
The premise of City Lights is one that’s been called upon in Hollywood films for years and years. Girl falls in love with boy, boy thinks it’s for some superficial reason, boy spends rest of film trying to fulfill that superficial reason only to find she only wanted to be with him for who he was blah, blah, you know the story and so do I. Only in this version of this now common told tale, the love interest in blind. The Tramp reads about a Viennese doctors cure for blindness in the newspaper and shows her the article when he brings groceries to her and her grandmothers apartment. A new conflict arises and in this the blind girl and her grandmother can’t pay the rent. The Tramp leaves only to find out he’s been fired from his job. The subplot took notes from a previous comedy of Chaplins, The Idle Class, in which The Tramp has a run in with a couple of millionaires. However in City Lights, The Tramp saves a millionaire from committing suicide, in return the millionaire treats The Tramp to a wild night, but when the millionaire is sober he has zero recollection of The Tramp or the night before, leaving the Tramp bewildered. The premise isn’t complicated, there’s just a lot of small details that go into the big picture.
When movies first started playing in cinemas an orchestra was usually in the wings to provide the music. As I’m sure you’re aware (or maybe you’re not, that’s okay!), there’s no dialogue in silent films. However, there is audio, such as music. When I was a kid, I thought the music only played just so you wouldn’t get bored. I figured it didn’t serve much of a purpose. It wasn’t until I saw City Lights that I realized there was more to the music than just keeping the audience’s attention. Previously, I believed it was used as a filler: not always, but in most cases. If you really think about it, the mid-1910’s are when the 20th century motion pictures we know today began. In less than fifteen years, music transitioned from simply a distraction to a significant storytelling tool. I’m not entirely sure how this fundamental practice began to take place, but I know where it was popularized and I know the impact City Lights had on the rest of the industry.
City Lights is a symphony of the time. Chaplin began the task of producing his own score for the first time in his career. Although, in his own words, he mostly “la-la’d” the music and Arthur Johnson transcribed the notation, but coming from a family of musicians it wasn’t exactly a stretch for him to have a hand in composing the music for his films. There was a purpose to every piece of music that was included in the film, fast paced allegro creates tension, whilst the waltz’s slow lilt makes me believe in love all over again. Creating music for his own films would become a running theme for the rest of his career. He had a reputation for going back and changing soundtracks to his old films. I suppose you could call that the perfectionist in him (more on that later), but I would also gather he was a tad bit crazy; most artists are. In 1942, he composed a new score for his film, The Gold Rush, seventeen years after its initial release, also providing a narration. Further edits were made to the film as well. In 1967, he again, composed a new score. This time, The Circus. A near forty years after its initial release, he added a new recording of him singing “Swing Little Girl” over the opening scene.
“Everything I do is a dance. I think in terms of dance.“
Charles Chaplin
I’ll be going over a handful of scenes from the film, but the first example perfectly highlights City Lights‘ symphonic undertones. It is one of the best scenes in the entire film and it takes place less than five minutes into the movie. The Tramp is taking a stroll down the sidewalk observing the ins and outs of the world that seems to be revolving around every one except for him. Seemingly not going in any which way, a couple of newsboys decide to harass him with some spitballs. After this pursuit concludes and The Tramp escapes them he finds himself in front of a large window where a seemingly nude mannequin and horse set are on display. He looks closer at the horse, but side eyes the mannequin at the same time. The Tramp feels the need to inspect “the horse” from different angles, taking steps forward and backward moving, with score composed specifically for moments such as these. It’s as close to a fifteen second ballet as I’ve ever seen and it’s done with such grace. I’ve searched high and low for more specifics on this scene, but I can’t seem to find anything anywhere. If there’s no documentation of it then it must not have been as great of a spectacle as I imagine (or perhaps great art can’t be appreciated in its time).
In the below scene we are presented with the main conflict of the film. The Tramp is trying to make his way through traffic on foot and when he can’t get by he just opens the cab of a car and walks through it to get to the sidewalk on the other side. In doing this, the sound of the car door closing catches the attention of a blind girl selling flowers seated on a wall. Two inaudible words were required of Virginia Cherril: “Flower, sir?” Chaplin shot this scene a total of 342 times. Come to find out, he used the “poor delivery” of the line as an excuse for not being able to get the shot, but it was often that he just wasn’t able to convey his message the way he wanted it. It needed something additional and he took out these frustrations on his lead actress. Once the car door idea came to him, it all fell into place. The pivotal sound of the car door introduced The Tramp to the blind girl. Most importantly, this singular sound allowed him to aggrandize his stature. In those days, if you had a car then you had money. Amidst the flirtation, confusion occurs. When another man walks behind The Tramp and gets into a car, the door slams again causing the blind girl to believe it was The Tramp that hurriedly left, forgetting his change. This beautiful, quite manipulative scene is exactly what silent films were intended for. But even cinephiles seek progress and adaptation. Why didn’t Chaplin just use sound?
Chaplin believed once The Tramp audibly spoke, he died. The romantic in Chaplin sought to preserve the intimacy between characters. He wasn’t ready to part with virtually the only character he’s ever played on screen. This remained true as years went on. He portrayed the character two more times after City Lights, and after he spoke on camera at the beginning of The Great Dictator, he retired the character forever. Chaplin became a star in the silent era. He made the majority of his films pre-sound era, imagine having knowledge in only one area, an area that is losing popularity quickly. Post-1927, he made a total of eight films, he starred in seven of them. His expertise lacked and the future became uncertain. Chaplin’s fear was the primary motivation behind his active protest amid talkies, in my opinion. Countless silent legends became irrelevant as talkies became more popular. He was afraid he would meet the same irrelevancy if he conformed to the new standard. Fear is actually a guiding principal in many people’s lives. But it wasn’t until he laid The Tramp peacefully to rest that he made his most valuable work yet. To be discussed at a later time.
The subplot with the millionaire was originally intended for Henry Clive, a production designer that did a little acting on the side. I suppose you would know the name if he hadn’t been fired by Chaplin for refusing to jump into a cold water tank during their initial meeting in the film. After Clive was fired, Harry Myers took his place. Myers was another actor from the silent era that Chaplin had known previously when working together at Keystone Studios, the short lived movie studio ran by Mack Sennet, the man that gave Chaplin his first big shot in motion pictures. Myers worked well with Chaplin and played a great drunk. He had a fun character to play, as an alcoholic, millionaire he tries to kill himself and after he’s saved by The Tramp, graciously Meyer’s then demands a lifelong friendship with him. Consequently enough, the millionaire doesn’t remember any of this when sober causing hilarious confusion for The Tramp, the audience, and myself.
Things Chaplin and I have in common: we both value control. Charlie needed to have control over all aspects of the picture on the screen. Similarly, I find comfort in controlling the words on these pages. Inspiration comes from the ones who started with nothing and went on to great success, all I can do is watch and listen. It could be screen legends like Charles Chaplin or an independent legend like Kevin Smith. The point is, they started with next to nothing, took their ideas and put them into this metaphorical machine that churned out pure cinematic gold. The Kid or Clerks; it’s all the same to me, art is art. Part of filmmaking is understanding the art of emotion. Whether it be elated or melancholic; the artist made the audience feel something, and I fell in love with the idea of possibly having the opportunity myself to make people feel a certain way after watching a film, my film. Now, to each is own when directing and/or producing a movie. Chaplin and I may differ here in philosophy. Typically on film sets there’s various individual, “artistic” perspectives taken into consideration during a project. More often than not, one single person is NOT seen as a jack of all trades. Chaplin was extraordinary and he did things in his own way. I mentioned earlier that he not only starred in this picture, but he also single handedly directed, produced, edited, scored and wrote the damn thing. If he could have played every character himself he probably would have. He did this sort of thing more on more than one occasion. If you want something done right then do it yourself. Oh, the possibilities that could have lied ahead for the silent eras Eddie Murphy or Mike Myers, but we’re left with the legacy of The Tramp instead. I’ll take it. But, I digress.
City Lights has continued as critically acclaimed for almost the last century, but it was an uphill battle. The complications Chaplin had with his lead actress continued for the entirety film. Not only the previously mentioned dreaded flower scene Chaplin shot a whopping 342 times, but there was also a point where Chaplin fired her from the movie completely. While the flower girl scene was not shot consecutively, it took more than a year to complete. The pair had several more scenes to shoot together, rather than focus on one singular scene, they shot the other scenes between the down times. Cherrill became bored during these “less dramatic” scenes and mistakenly complained to Chaplin. After all I’ve read about this man over the last fifteen or so years of my life, it occurred to me that that probably wasn’t the best move, subsequently she was fired, but then rehired. Briefly, he hired his former costar from The Gold Rush, Georgia Hale, to take her place; since Chaplin had already shot the majority of the film (on celluloid) and it would have taken too much time and money to reshoot all of the essential blind girl scenes. When he asked Cherrill back she asked for a $75/week raise and you bet she got it. This whole fiasco seemed to have backfired entirely on Chaplin, but certainly worked out for her. After the rehire, they shot that crucial scene for six more days and finally got the shot, even going as far to say that Virginia Cherrill “finally understood the character.”
It doesn’t sound as if they worked on the film much longer after she came back on, but I know they shot the iconic final scene in which The Tramp returns to exact same corner as when he first met the blind girl. Only this time, she’s seated in a flower shop as The Tramp is being tormented by the same two newsboys as earlier in the film. After he chases the boys off he spies the now former blind girl though the window and can’t believe its her. When she sees him she obviously has no idea who it is. It isn’t until they meet outside to exchange a new flower and she takes his hand that she realizes who he is. She feels his hands, arms, and face as a blind person would do. She recognizes him and says only “You?” He shyly nods confirming her suspicion. She takes his hand close to her chest and his eyes widen. The screen fades to black and we’re left only with a title card that reads “THE END.”
“The greatest single piece of acting ever committed to celluloid…”
Editing of City Lights began October 1930 after a long and grueling near two years of sporadic shooting habits. Editing lasted from October to December, the film opened on January 30, 1931. It was on this day the world’s first exposure to 90 minutes of one of the greatest performances on film; a new standard in acting surfaced. Sound films had officially been adopted by Hollywood as the new standard in 1929, so the talkie had already been established. Yet somehow Chaplin was able to achieve one his most financially successful films in the midst of a depression no doubt. It really goes to show how much audiences truly adored Chaplin, but it had been three years since his last film, The Circus, so it seems audiences were itching for a laugh and a distraction from the everyday life, The Great Depression. A person’s success is relative, and often on a pendulum. When one moment is high the next is low. All I have to say is, the man earned all of his success and he ended up really lucky when the depression hit. I read once that he dumped all of his stocks shortly before the crash of ’29. If he hadn’t, he may not have been so lucky. Most of Chaplins films were self funded so there’s no way he would have been able to finance City Lights or Modern Times in 1936 if he hadn’t pulled out. I’m almost sure the studio he started in 1917, Chaplin Studios, would have shut down and ceased to exist. Although, this is all speculation. He had friends in high and low places that he’d helped along the way in his career, any one of them would have helped out. If what I’ve read is true about his relationships with people helping and supporting him, like Douglas Fairbanks, D.W. Griffith, and Mary Pickford; the three he started United Artists with in 1919. I find this a good time to note that the former Chaplin Studios is still standing, although he sold it in 1953, it has been owned by The Jim Henson company since 2000, passing through owners such as Red Skelton and A&M Records.
There comes a time in everyones life when they see a movie that changes them. It could be that animated film you watched over and over when you were 3 years old, or the black and white you watched with Papa growing up. I have more than a handful of moments and movies. One that comes to mind is The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) with my Aunt Diana when I was 10 years old. She passed recently and I’ve been thinking about that moment a lot. I always had an interest in things much older than me, but it wasn’t until we sat down every night in the decked out basement of their Dekalb, Illinois home watching movies that I started my obsession with old film. If it wasn’t for those moments I may never have been as interested as I am today. Of course, I could very well still be sitting at my desk writing this with my wife and daughter next to me on the couch even without her guidance. I prefer not to dwell on it as I never have to experience it that way. My Aunt Diana changed my life; City Lights changed my life; the cinema continues to change my life. I hope with these words you’ll reconsider letting that old movie keep playing that was already on when you switched on the television. You might end up with a lemon, but its often you’ll find yourself developing tunnel vision and your invested in the story. That could very well be just me and that is okay! I still encourage to keep an open mind.
Huh. Turns out, I could find the words to express my love for this picture.
The Celluloid Historian 