Not Just the Silent Treatment: Frank Scheide Explains Why Chaplin's Work is No Laughing Matter

Not Just the Silent Treatment: Frank Scheide Explains Why Chaplin's Work is No Laughing Matter

In January 1952, Charlie Chaplin boarded the Queen Elizabeth in New York, bound for London for the premiere of his film Limelight. He had lived in the United States for nearly forty years, had never sought American citizenship, and had been under FBI surveillance for much of that time, suspected by J. Edgar Hoover of communist sympathies and targeted for his refusal to conform to the political expectations of his adopted country. While the ship was still at sea, the Attorney General revoked his re-entry permit. Chaplin would not be allowed to return without submitting to an interrogation about his politics and his morals. He was sixty-three years old, the most famous entertainer in the history of cinema, and he had just been effectively expelled from the country where he had made every film that made him famous. He chose not to fight it. He settled in Switzerland, sent his family to collect his belongings from his California home, and did not set foot in America again for twenty years. When he finally returned in 1972 to accept an honorary Academy Award, the standing ovation lasted twelve minutes. It was the longest in the ceremony's history.

A pioneer in cinema, Charlie Chaplin (1889–1977) defined the silent film era with an artistry and humanity that transcended the technical limitations of the medium and the cultural barriers of language. While he was not the only master of physical comedy of the day, his Little Tramp character became the most recognizable and most beloved figure in the history of film, a universal symbol of the underdog's dignity in the face of an indifferent world. Chaplin stretched the bounds of filmmaking even before synchronized dialogue arrived, doing more with limited technology than most filmmakers would have with twice as much, and combining slapstick with a genuine, often surprising emotional depth. As co-founder of United Artists with Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, and D. W. Griffith, he was among the earliest artists to seek creative control in an industry dominated then as now by financial interests, understanding earlier than most that the comedian and the businessman needed to be the same person if the art was to survive intact.

To explore that legacy with the depth it deserves requires a scholar who understands both the history of cinema and the particular genius of its first great star. Frank Scheide, Associate Professor in the Department of Communication at J. William Fulbright College of Arts and Sciences at the University of Arkansas-Fayetteville, brings to his teaching of film history and criticism a sustained engagement with Chaplin's work that illuminates both its technical achievement and its enduring human resonance.

In the conversation that follows, Scheide guides us into Chaplin's world, examining the artistry behind the pratfalls, the politics behind the performance, and why a man who was expelled from America by return of post received its longest standing ovation when he finally came back.


Charles Carlini: You’ve devoted much of your career to the study of silent film, particularly as it relates to the work of Charlie Chaplin. What sparked your interest in Chaplin?

Frank Scheide: While my older cousins grew up listening to the radio in the 1940s, my parents got a television when I was three at the beginning of the 50s. In the days before videotape, early television relied heavily on showing old films to fill airtime between live programming, and I was particularly drawn to the way silent film communicated through nonverbal expression. As television focused on other subjects and given the political controversy surrounding Chaplin, it became increasingly difficult to see this comedian’s work in the United States. I was very excited when Chaplin’s autobiography came out in 1964, and I was finally able to see many of his silent films by collecting copies released through companies like Blackhawk Films in Davenport, Iowa.

CC: Chaplin was one of the first directors to explore the medium of feature-length movies. What, if any, film techniques or innovations resulted from his work?

FS: While he was featured in the first successful feature-length comedy, Tillie’s Punctured Romance in 1914, this was more Mack Sennett’s film than Charlie Chaplin’s. Because Chaplin’s short pictures were so financially successful, the early film companies for whom he worked were reluctant to have him make features despite his desire to do so, particularly since Chaplin was taking increasingly longer to complete his films as years went by. The first feature film Chaplin directed was The Kid in 1921, and his next, A Woman of Paris, would not be released until 1923. Consequently, Chaplin was a bit late in exploring feature filmmaking when compared to other directors of the period. That said, the tragicomedy of The Kid was particularly innovative, as it was believed that slapstick could not be blended with comedy before then, and its success continues to influence films to this day. A Woman of Paris, a drama that Chaplin directed but did not star in, was hailed by other filmmakers for its subtlety and understated performance, and it had a major influence on the work of Ernst Lubitsch, among others. All of Chaplin’s succeeding features have been the focus of serious study.

CC: Along with Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, and D. W. Griffith, Chaplin founded the United Artists (UA) film distribution company in 1919, which was, undoubtedly, a daring move for its time. How did UA serve his interests as a filmmaker?

FS: With each succeeding studio contract, Chaplin demanded more artistic freedom, as well as a substantial increase in salary. When Chaplin made The Kid while under contract with First National, the studio was very opposed to his making features, even though the film made a great deal of money for the studio. United Artists clearly served Chaplin’s interests as a filmmaker by allowing him to make his films when and how he wanted.

CC: How did the arrival of “talkies” impact Chaplin’s film career, since, until then, he was known as a silent film star?

FS: The coming of sound had a major impact on this filmmaker’s work and career. Chaplin saw his famous “tramp” as a silent film character, and this concern influenced the four films he made from 1928 to 1942: The Circus (1928), City Lights (1931), Modern Times (1936), and The Great Dictator (1940). While Chaplin believed that the tramp should not talk, he appreciated being able to control the music and sound effects in his films—something that had previously been left to theater owners who provided their own musical accompaniment. Consequently, the “silent” features that Chaplin made from 1928 through 1936 were quite innovative in their use of sound. The transition from silents to talkies occurred between 1927 and 1932, and Modern Times is considered the last major “silent picture” produced before Mel Brooks’s feature comedy Silent Movie, in 1976. Though Modern Times was financially successful, Chaplin decided his next picture would have to be a talkie. The comedian was particularly disturbed by the rise of Adolph Hitler and used the similarity between the mustaches of the dictator and the tramp to satirize the autocrat at a time when Hollywood did not want to alienate the German market. The Great Dictator would be Chaplin’s most commercially successful film and one of his most important.

CC: During the McCarthy era, Chaplin was accused of "un-American activities" as a suspected communist. Was there ever any basis for this charge?

FS: Charles Chaplin was one of Hollywood’s most successful capitalists, not someone interested in giving up his fortune to the masses to live modestly. Chaplin was grateful to the United States for the success he achieved in this country and moved to Switzerland rather than to Russia after leaving America in 1952. As you note, these accusations occurred during the “McCarthy era”, when many people were falsely accused of being communists because of their political views. Chaplin’s films and his personal philosophy championed the underdog, and he was not someone who would endorse everything the United States did despite his appreciation for the country that brought him fame and fortune. This propensity for expressing an opinion, which resulted in his making The Great Dictator at a time when criticizing Adolph Hitler was not popular, got Chaplin in trouble when McCarthyism became ripe. In 1972, Charles Chaplin was invited back to the United States for a special Academy Award for his achievements as a filmmaker, and he was given a hero’s welcome. I do not believe that there is any basis for the charge that Chaplin was a “suspected communist” other than the malice of the times when the accusation was made.

CC: In his autobiography, Buster Keaton stated that Chaplin was the greatest comedian who ever lived and the greatest comedy director. Do we know how Chaplin felt about Keaton?

FS: One of the great moments in film history was when Buster Keaton performed with Charlie in the climactic scene of Chaplin’s 1952 picture, Limelight. Chaplin had a very high opinion of Keaton, or he wouldn’t have put him in this sequence, and their ensemble acting is a wonderful thing to see. There are critics who have accused Chaplin of cutting some of Keaton’s best material due to jealousy. I feel that Chaplin, as the director, chose the footage that he felt worked best for this picture. Either way, there is no denying this scene’s effectiveness. Though appreciated in his day, it took Keaton longer to achieve the critical acclaim that both artists now receive. Consequently, when the great works of Keaton were rediscovered and he enjoyed major recognition in the 1960s, some claimed that Keaton was better than Chaplin. While Charlie was not pleased with this development, he did not denigrate his fellow artist. Chaplin and Keaton had a strong mutual respect for one another.

CC: In addition to his filmmaking, Chaplin wrote the musical scores for most of his most popular films, such as The Kid, City Lights, and The Great Dictator. Did he have any musical training?

FS: Actually, Chaplin wrote the score for the re-release of The Kid, and production demands resulted in his turning over most of the musical score for The Great Dictator to Meredith Willson. Other than The Great Dictator, Chaplin wrote the music for the initial release of all his features, starting with The Circus (1928). Chaplin could not read music and had no formal musical training, but he did play the piano, violin, and cello for his own amusement. When composing, Chaplin would pick out tunes by humming or hitting notes on the piano, and a trained musician, primarily Eric James in later years, would help him translate these compositions into a score. Chaplin’s background in the English music hall—the equivalent of American vaudeville—featured live music, and this experience had a major impact on his work. Lauded as a film composer, it is interesting that Charles Chaplin’s approach to musical composition was based on improvisation, which is also how he developed much of his visual comedy.

CC: In 2001, you began cataloging 70 hours of previously unavailable outtakes from the films of Charlie Chaplin for the British Film Institute. These outtakes were supposed to be destroyed on Chaplin’s behest. But fortunately, they got into the “wrong” hands and are now seeing the light of day. Can you tell us the story behind this discovery? And how significant are these outtakes?

FS: I began the cataloging in 1999 and finished in 2001. The best source for the history of the outtakes is Kevin Brownlow’s 2005 book The Search for Charlie Chaplin, which documents the role this footage had in the making of his award-winning documentary series Unknown Chaplin. Mr. Brownlow also provided a fascinating history of the outtakes in a special feature interview in the 2005 DVD release of this series. To give you a brief overview, the outtakes were in the Chaplin vaults in Los Angeles when the comedian moved to Switzerland, and he ordered them destroyed. The typical method for disposing of film is to melt down the unwanted footage to recover the silver. Film collector Raymond Rohauer heard about the plans to dispose of the outtakes and offered to buy this material for what the silver would have been worth. When Chaplin heard what happened, he demanded that the footage from those films still under copyright be returned, and Raymond Rohauer complied. However, Rohauer kept the footage considered to be in the public domain, which included the outtakes from the films Chaplin made for the Mutual Film Corporation between 1916 and 1917. It was the Mutual footage that Kevin Brownlow and David Gill primarily used for the first episode of Unknown Chaplin.

As indicated in the opening narration of Unknown Chaplin, this director was very secretive about his working methods, and these outtakes offer a fascinating key to understanding his creative process. For the Mutual films, Chaplin would take an idea and improvise on camera rather than work from a completed script. By viewing these outtakes sequentially, one can see how Chaplin’s films evolved into polished classics. I know of no other documentary that has had such an impact on forever changing the critical understanding of the work of a major film artist.

CC: As an expert in the work of Chaplin, you’re often invited to speak at Chaplin conferences around the world. What actually occurs at these conferences? And how are you advancing Chaplin studies?

FS: Great art speaks to everyone, and new insights can be obtained from repeated encounters by those who wish to learn more. While Chaplin’s comedy is immediately accessible to a wide audience on many levels, his art is composed of many complex layers. The Chaplin conferences are opportunities for specialists to share their research and learn about current critical perspectives. Those engaged in this discussion hope to advance their appreciation and understanding of this artist and his art. Besides the work I’ve done with the outtakes, my particular focus has been on how Chaplin’s background in English music hall influenced his later films.

CC: What would you say is Chaplin’s legacy?

FS: This artist adapted the discipline of clowning, which had evolved from centuries on the stage to meet the demands of a new medium, the motion picture, to produce classic comedies that continue to withstand the test of time.

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