Importance of Laughter.

I had never seen a Charlie Chaplin film before this class, but now I can’t believe that I had somehow missed his work. It took less than five minutes before I knew that I was absolutely going to love Modern Times. In fact, I am actually really anxious to finish the rest of the film so I can start watching his other works.

I’m not sure exactly what I find appealing about Chaplin or his Little Tramp character. For one thing, I think there are some interesting complexities to the type of humor used in this movie. Sometimes a joke comes after a long and rather intelligent or edgy setup sequence (I’m thinking the red flag waving or the “nose-powder”). Other times the punch line is as simple as a punch in the face. Much like the sketches Monty Python or Fry and Laurie, this mix of high and low forms of humor is something that, when done well, is more than memorable: it is universally appealing.

I am struck by what Dr. Fruhauff explained about Chaplin’s decision to keep the Tramp a silent character in order to maintain his cultural universality. In some ways I think there is a timeless quality about him. Sure, silent films are virtually a thing of the past. Sure, the story is distinctly about the Great Depression. Sure, the movie is in black and white. Etc. There are plenty of things about Modern Times that indicate the fact that it was created 75 years ago, but I do not think that Chaplin’s character is among them.

For one thing, a lot of the slapstick comedy we experience today has its roots back in this era with the development of vaudeville (vaudeville, by the way, is a wonderful word to say aloud, try it). I know that I recognize many of sorts of gags found in Modern Times because of a childhood full of Saturday morning cartoons.

There is something so essentially appealing about the Tramp’s innocent escapades. I think Hart Crane described this appeal particularly well in his poem “Chaplinesque.”

We make our meek adjustments,

Contended with such random consolations

As the wind deposits

In slithered and too ample pockets.

Yet, it is not just amusement that I find attractive in the Tramp. There is an element of steadfastness that is also appealing. Everyone loves rooting for the underdog character, right? And who better to root for than the innocent victim of circumstances. In the Tramp we find a character admirable for his persistent optimism and for his ability to maintain a sense of (to borrow from Ernest Hemingway) “grace under pressure.”

The game enforces smirk; but we have seen

The moon in lonely alleys make

A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,

And through all sound of gaiety and quest

Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.

I like that image of laughter in light of great adversity. It also has an important role in Sandburg’s great poem “Chicago.” There we find that the worker’s laugh comes to signify the endurance of the life of an individual despite the trials they face in their daily lives.

Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young man

laughs,

Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has never lost

a battle

Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse, and

            Under his ribs the heart of the people,

             Laughing!

This is a powerful image, and I think especially in American culture. Not to go on a tangent, but one of my favorite songs, “The Boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel (1968), seems to be tapping into the same sorts of themes as Sandburg, Crane, and especially Chaplin.

When I left my home and my family

I was no more than a boy

In the company of strangers

In the quiet of the railway station running scared

Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters

Where the ragged people go

Looking for the places only they would know…

In the clearing stands a boxer

And a fighter by his trade

And he carries the reminders

Of every glove that layed him down

Or cut him till he cried out

In his anger and his shame

"I am leaving, I am leaving"

But the fighter still remains!

Maybe I am just seeing what I want to see, but those images are similar enough that I don’t think they are coincidental. If anything they exemplify this ideal of American persistence; that insistence on “pulling yourself up your bootstraps.” I find that the Tramp speaks to this fight for hope and he does so in a way that sticks with you. 

In my experience thus far with Chaplin’s work, that is the thing I appreciate the most. He shows us the difficulties of the world, but he does so while laughing.