Hit Me With Your Best Shot: "THE CIRCUS"

In the weekly "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" series, we select what we view as the best shot from a pre-selected movie. Everyone who does the same gets linked up! This week's film is Charlie Chaplin's somewhat underappreciated slapstick comedy The Circus (1928).

Don't you love it when a movie character is so iconic that you only have to see their backside as intro? The movie's plot kicks into gear when a pickpocket puts his catch into the Tramp's pocket to prove his innocent. Comedic complications ensue.

In truth, I have never quite understand the Little Tramp's appeal being mostly a Buster Keaton man. With Water For Elephants coming out on Friday, I thought a circus movie was in order and why not give Chaplin a second chance... or a fifth. In the past I've found his films a touch too saccharine -- it's a personal taste thing -- but it turned out that The Circus was just what I needed since it went light on the "awwwww" and sniffly pity and leaned into its gags with something in the general vicinity of wicked glee. I was super drepressed and ended up laughing for two hours. Win!

The best illustration of the naughty comic touch might be the late in the film when the Tramp, who usually squirms from delight, reveals that his squirming while watching a tight rope walker (his rival for the love object's affection) is actually something like physical exertion to telekinetically will the walker into falling and I laughed heartily at an early variation on that old saying "stealing candy from a baby" as he devours an entire pastry from the hands of an infant.

But in the end I kept going back to this very simple shot near the beginning which is much much funnier in context.

It's part of the perfectly judged opening slapstick theft with hilarious confusions and plot consequences. Both the Tramp and the thief have been running from the cops and from each other and they suddenly enter the frame looking like partners in crime; Chaplin's hat tip at the tail end of the run is a super funny nod to this odd turn of events (they'll be enemies again in a second).

It got me to thinking about why slapstick is mostly dead in the movies. We don't have any Tatis or Chaplins or anyone left anymore and it's not because it's 2011 or because comedy is dead or because [cue nostalgic violins] "they don't make it like they use to" or  because the movies found sound. It's because the currently preferred style of rapid cutting and the absolute manic attachment to closeups --even in scenes without heavy emotional components -- prevents the longform comedy of careful set-up and physical punchline; it's tough to maximize the humor of a pratfall or a surprise twist in the action when you can't see the entirety of a comedian's body in motion. The modern musical has the same problem in finding its voice, if you will. If you can't see the choreography it's awfully tough to join in the dancing.

Other Tramps

• Movies Kick Ass "You're supposed to be funny" Chaplin's resistance to sound.
• Awww, the Movies! ♥  Strike a pose, Charlie.
• Serious Film "The Keaton Man's Guide To Loving Chaplin"
• Ahora the sorrow of circuses and Chaplin's hall of mirrors

The complete index of "Hit Me" episodes

UPDATE. We were supposed to do Sofia Coppola's Somewhere next. But we keep running into snags with this series. I know the majority of you rent from Netflix (as do I) and for some reason though the movie is out on DVD and Blu-Ray it is strangely not available on Netflix for another month. Perhaps this is some new contract problem between studios and Netflix? SIGH.

So next Wednesday no episode. But stay tuned for more news on this series.

Distant Relatives: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Shutter Island

Robert here, with my series Distant Relatives, where we look at two films, (one classic, one modern) related through a common theme and ask what their similarities and differences can tell us about the evolution of cinema.  This week since both films deal with a twist ending, be warned there are definitely SPOILERS AHEAD

Madness

Audiences don’t much like engaging with a film, its characters, its plot and anticipating its outcome for two hours only to be told that the entire thing was untrue, a dream, the story of a crazy man, an elaborate roleplay. The two films we’re looking at today, though made ninety years apart do that exact thing. Clearly this is a cinematic convention that has stood the test of time.

In the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, a young man named Francis relates the story of a visiting carnival which brings the evil Dr. Caligari and his somnambulist slave to town. After a series of strange murders and the kidnapping of the young man’s betrothed Jane, Francis leads a posse and discovers that, surprise surprise, Dr. Caligari is the mad director of an asylum, and that his catatonic servant are behind it all. Shutter Island follows two U.S. Marshalls, Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his new partner Chuck, sent to a hospital for the criminally insane to investigate a disappearance. As their investigation goes deeper and deeper Teddy begins to suspect a deeper plot involving the hospital’s head psychiatrist, the disappeared Rachel Solondo and Andrew Laeddis, the man who killed his wife.

Unreliable narrators

Now for the twist. If you didn’t see it coming, both of our protagonists are in fact patients in their respective mental facilities. Francis has made up his entire story. Jane and the somnambulist are fellow patients. Dr. Calirgari is in fact the good director of the asylum. Teddy meanwhile isn’t Teddy at all. He is Andrew Laeddis. He killed his own wife. The entire investigation is a ruse attempting to jar him back into reality. It doesn’t quite work.

You’d be forgiven for seeing both twist endings coming for miles. Both films feature stories that become increasingly fantastic and highly expressionist production design that seems to be peace with the reality of the film at first, but eventually we wonder. Yet I’m not sure that the purpose of these films is a cheap trick twist. We logically recognize that films are fake, actors and props on a set. Yet we accept it as a reality that plays beyond the limits of the film. We consider pasts and futures for characters, motivations, inner thoughts. There’s something uncomfortable about movies that tell us explicitly that they’re fake.

The mind’s eye

The significant difference between these two movies may be the process by which they do this. Shutter Island makes little effort to cover up the fact that the “surprise” is coming. This in turn turned off a lot of viewers who anticipated the reveal, and took the falsehood of what they were witnessing as a sign that their emotional involvement was for naught. It’s an understandable reaction. Who wants to put their time and emotional effort into something untrue? The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari strings the audience along with more determination. The reveal that the entire plot is the invention of Francis is more likely to be a surprise and more likely to be received with delight (though this isn’t always the case).

Yet, as the film that spends more time winking at the audience with it’s own artificiality, Shutter Island contains more reality than Dr. Caligari. The events (or at least most of the events) in Shutter Island actually happen. It’s simply the perception of Marshall Teddy that is false, leaving us less clear as to what plot points his mind has manufactured and which are objective reality than Francis’s tale which is entirely concocted and untrue. Both of the protagonists in these stories create realities where they are heroes instead of madmen, and thus both lean toward a question asked frequently in such fantasy films (and DiCaprio’s other movie of 2010): Is a pleasant fantasy better than a troubling reality? Is it really wrong if we don’t know the difference?

So too can it be said of the movies. We allow ourselves to experience reality vicariously through characters we know are false but don’t want to believe are false. Teddy and Francis would rather be great than recognize that they are in fact powerless, ordinary, and flawed. When their films admit that they are in fact all those things, are we vicariously forced to admit that we are too?

Blogger Man: Turn Off the Link

Serious Film Michael (a TFE columnist) is counting down his favs of the year.
Final Girl Stacy's cartoons of the Friday the 13th series almost make it seems as cute as a Pixar movie... okay no. I amend. It's still sick so it's almost as cute as a Don Hertzfeldt animation.
Parabasis a fascinating thoughtful and scathing review of Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark.
In Contention Guy's 25 favorites of 2010. It was a very good year.

Alternative Film Guide RIP Miriam Seegar, one of the last surviving silent film actors.
Vulture Quentin Tarantino responds to the collective internet freakout also known as "OMG, why isn't Sofia Coppola's Somewhere which he awarded in Venice on his top ten list?!?"
Pop Matters chooses their (collective) favorite 20 female performances of 2010. Interesting li... okay, it's a bizarre list. We do appreciate Matt's writeup of Barbara Hershey in Black Swan. We do not appreciate the Annette Bening snub.

Fuming Actresses
US Weekly Michelle Williams is not pleased with the way Nightline edited her statements about Heath Ledger's death and their breakup.
EW's Inside Movies Julia Roberts has had it with everyone ignoring Javier Bardem in Biutiful. OBEY!
The Advocate Glenn Close is horrified that she has an unauthorized cameo in that anti-gay USS Enterprise Navy video that recently caused such a ruckus.