There’s real terror in our eyes as Charlie Chaplin dances atop a tight rope in the closing set piece of “The Circus,” and yet the Tramp turns it into a larf. He makes this goofy looking stunt where he’s pulled skyward by a wire look effortlessly graceful, and he’s such a showman as he awkwardly gags as a monkey puts its tail in his mouth as he’s trying to stay balanced. Watch carefully in a cutaway shot of the audience, and you’ll see a guy watching intently and eating his popcorn waiting for the Tramp to fall as everyone else screams in terror. It’s this little gag that makes the scene all the more delightful.
And the added surprise? He’s really up there on that rope.
“The Circus” is the first of Chaplin’s silent stragglers, a gigantic mess of a production in between “The Gold Rush,” “City Lights” and the rise of the talkie that still managed to be an uproarious comedy gem. If it doesn’t innovate in the way that “The Gold Rush,” “City Lights” and “Modern Times” do, it’s just as good and funny, if not better, and with just as much pathos. Continue reading “Rapid Response: The Circus”