Los Angeles premiere of CITY LIGHTS, January 30th, 1931

City Lights premiered at the newly constructed Los Angeles Theater. Charlie's guests that evening were Albert Einstein and his wife, Elsa. He recalled that the professor "laughed like a boy" and would nudge him and exclaim, "Ach, das ist wunderbar! Das ist schön!" ¹ During the emotional last scene he  caught a glimpse of the great Einstein wiping his eyes and later noted that it was "further evidence that scientists are incurable sentimentalists." ²

With Einstein at the premiere.

The new Los Angeles Theater boasted a restaurant, art gallery, "crying room" for mothers,
shoeshine parlor, ballroom, etc. Halfway through the premiere, the management thought it was a
good idea to stop the film, flip on the lights, and have a voice over the loudspeaker describe the theater's
fabulous features. Chaplin was furious and went looking for the "son of a bitch manager."
The crowd was with him and began stamping their feet, applauding, and eventually booing
until the lights went off and the film restarted. (MA, pg. 330)

 Chaplin was understandably nervous about the opening. He was releasing a silent film three years after talking pictures had taken over Hollywood. He worried that the film was a mistake and the audience would be disappointed. "However, I must walk the plank," he wrote in 1933, "and accept what the gods have in store for me. When the first laugh comes what music it will be to my anxious ears." ³ Georgia Hale,⁴ Chaplin's date that evening, witnessed this anxiety firsthand on the way to the theater: "The closer it came to the time of the showing, the more apprehensive Mr. Chaplin became. He whispered something he'd never admit only under duress. 'I'm worried. I have an awful feeling the film isn't going to be received well...I don't care about being popular, wanting acclaim...but I do. I do care...I must have it...the applause of people. I love it...I live on it. But I'm afraid tonight.'" When the picture was only a quarter over, Georgia could tell that Charlie's fears were diminished and he was relaxed. "The audience was once again in the palm of his hand and he knew it." ⁵

City Lights is not only a favorite film among fans, but it was also a favorite of Chaplin himself. In 1966, he told Richard Meryman: "I think I like City Lights the best of all my films." ⁶

Einstein and his wife are on either side of Chaplin. Georgia Hale is at far right.
Among the famous names who attended the premiere were King Vidor, Gloria Swanson,
Constance Bennett, Marion Davies, Thelma Todd, Claire Windsor, John Barrymore,
 Merna Kennedy, Dolores Del Rio, and Gary Cooper.

*As a side note, I'd like to clear up some confusion surrounding a quote that is often associated with the premiere of this film. Chaplin is generally misquoted as saying to the professor as the onlookers cheered them: "They applaud me because everyone understands me, they applaud you because nobody understands you." Not only is the wording of this quote wrong but it did not take place at the City Lights premiere & can be attributed to neither Chaplin nor Einstein. The real quote and the story behind it can be traced to Chaplin's 1933 travelogue "A Comedian Sees The World." In it,  he describes a visit with Einstein at his apartment in Berlin in March 1931. During tea, Einstein's son made an observation on the psychology of the popularity of both Einstein and Chaplin: "You are popular because you are understood by the masses. On the other hand, the professor's popularity with the masses is because he is not understood." There you have it.

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¹Translation: "Oh, that's wonderful! It's beautiful!"; Charles Chaplin, A Comedian Sees The World, Part 1, Sept. 1933
²Charles Chaplin, My Autobiography, 1964
³Chaplin, A Comedian Sees The World, Part 1, Sept. 1933
⁴Hale was Chaplin's leading lady in The Gold Rush (1925) & his constant companion between 1929 and the time of the City Lights premiere. When Chaplin fired Virginia Cherrill from City Lights in November 1929, he briefly thought of replacing her with Georgia (her screen test still exists). However Chaplin soon realized it would be too costly to reshoot everything with Hale so he rehired Cherrill.
⁵Georgia Hale, Charlie Chaplin: Intimate Close-ups, 1995
⁶"Chaplin: An Interview by Richard Meryman," Life, March 10, 1967.

Chaplin at a party honoring Arthur Rubinstein, 1939

CC is chatting with Gladys Peabody. At left is Reginald Gardiner (Schultz is The Great Dictator)

More photos from the party here.

With Pola Negri at the Pebble Beach Lodge in Del Monte, CA on the day they announced their engagement, January 28, 1923

Chaplin told the reporters: "Yes, we are engaged." (NYT, Jan. 29, 1923) However within a month or two the whole thing would be called off--thank goodness. What a disaster that marriage would have been.

Footage from the Hollywood premiere of THE CIRCUS at Grauman's Chinese Theater, January 27, 1928

Charlie appears around the :50 mark with his guests Ambassador Moore & Will Hays. Harry Crocker and Charlie's press agent, Carlyle Robinson (in glasses), can be seen, very briefly, with Charlie & his guests when they arrive.

Apparently the crowds lining the sidewalk to see Charlie were so enormous that members of the National Guard had to be brought in to help bring it under control. When Charlie arrived, he stepped from his car, locked arms with Sid Grauman, and paraded up and down the street for two blocks with one of the big spotlights, which you can see in the background, following them. Before the showing of the picture, Fred Niblo introduced members of the cast. The LA Times reported that Chaplin received a "notable ovation." Grauman's prologue, "Ballyhoo," included performances by real circus performers including Pepito the clown and Poodles Hanneford (see more footage of the premiere plus some of the "Ballyhoo" performances here)

Program for the Grauman's premiere:

Note the ad for Gay's Lion Farm. Their most famous lion, Numa, appeared in the film.

Charlie & Paulette entertain newlyweds Alistair Cooke and his wife, Ruth, at the Coconut Grove nightclub, September 1934

Property of Roy Export SAS

Chaplin was supposed to be best man at Cooke’s wedding in 1934, but failed to show up the day of the nuptials.  Alistair Cooke's biographer, Nick Clarke, contends that Chaplin didn't attend because Cooke's bride-to-be was worried that her straight-laced father would be offended by the fact that Paulette was living in sin with Charlie (Clarke said in an interview that this information came from an interview with Ruth Emerson Cooke, whom Alistair divorced in 1944). Cooke recalls in Six Men that Chaplin promised to come but just never showed up, something he was certainly known to do sometimes.

Several days after the ceremony, Cooke called Chaplin who behaved as if nothing had ever happened and offered to host the mother of all wedding parties for the newlyweds at the Coconut Grove.

While everyone looks happy in the picture, things apparently went downhill later in the evening:

The midnight show at the Coconut Grove was coming to an end. The star performer was one Gene Austin, a sugary crooner who had an alarming, but highly admired, habit of modulating his final notes a whole octave higher and so giving out the sound of a boy soprano or castrato. “Revolting” muttered Chaplin, who had declined into a brooding silence. Riding home, Paulette kept up the heartbreaking pretense that from now on her evenings would be agog with music and dancing. Chaplin gave her a black parental look. He started in about the cacophony of jazz, which he hated, and went on about the decadence of night life, the excruciating “eunuch” sounds to which he had been subjected, and the fate, similar to that of Sodom, which would shortly overtake the Republic. Paulette saw her vision collapse like the Ghost of Christmas Present. A tear ran down her enchanting face as she said, “What are we supposed to do evenings—stay home and write theses?!” Well, Chaplin replied, “One night a year is enough of that rubbish!”

At the house, his spirits revived, but there was no champagne to help them along. He never, through the two years I knew him best, drank or offered alcohol. He ordered his men to fetch a huge pitcher of water and the required number of tumblers. Our wedding party ended on a scene that would have warmed the heart of a Southern Baptist. We sat there yawning slightly, throwing in monosyllabic responses to Chaplin’s elegy on the modern world, and took long meditative drafts of pure cold water. (Alistair Cooke, Six Men, 1956)

Footage of Winston Churchill's visit to the set of CITY LIGHTS, September 24th, 1929

A few days after his visit with Chaplin, Mr. Churchill wrote to his wife Clementine: 

"We made gt friends with Charlie Chaplin. You cd not help liking him. The boys were fascinated by him. He is a marvellous comedian - bolshy in politics - delightful in conversation. He acted his new film for us in a wonderful way. It is to be his gt attempt to prove that the silent drama or pantomime is superior to the new talkies. Certainly if pathos & wit still count for anything it is out to win an easy victory." (www.loc.gov)

Besides CC and Churchill, others in the footage include (L-R):
Chaplin's studio manager Alf Reeves, Churchill's son, Randolph, Churchill's brother, John,
his son, John, Jr., and Chaplin's friend, Ambassador Moore (note his photobomb at :54).

Chaplin with members of the Shochiku Cinema Company, 1925

CC is second from left. At far right are Toraichi Kono and Harry d'Arrast

See another photo here.

From the book Charles Chaplin In Japan by Ono Hiroyuki

On Joseph Schenck's yacht, Invader, August 1933.

The woman is Alva Green, wife of comedian Harry Green.

See other photos taken the same day here.

RIP Jack Oakie (January 23, 1978)

Oakie and Chaplin on the set of The Great Dictator.

Oakie describes below being approached for a role in The Great Dictator by Syd Chaplin when both men were returning to America from Europe aboard the Ile de France:

"Charlie's working on an idea for a picture about Hitler," Sid said. And in afterthought I remember that he used to look me over as if her were trying to guess my weight. Never dreaming that he would ever send for me, because I wasn't German and felt sure there was nothing in a Hitler picture that I could play. I cheerfully joked about the idea.

"Sounds good to me, Sid. After all, Hitler's been trying to imitate Charlie wearing his mustache."¹

So when Charlie did send word that he wanted to speak to me I could hardly believe it. I began guessing that perhaps with my rotund build he was considering me for a character like Goering.

"Oakie," he said, "I've been watching you, and I hear you have a reputation for being a wise-cracker. How would you like to be in a picture about Hitler?"

"What would I play, Charlie?" I asked.

"Goering?"

"No! Oakie, I want you to play Mussolini," he said.

"Mussolini!" I couldn't believe it. "Charlie, you must be kidding."

"No, Oakie, I'm not kidding. I want you to play Mussolini."

"Charlie, I'm Scotch-Irish," I protested, almost talking myself out of the job.  "You want an Italian to play Mussolini."

"What's so funny about an Italian playing Mussolini?" he asked.

"Charlie," I said as fast as I could, "I'm your man!"

"Good, good," he said. He could see how thrilled I was. "Good!" he said again and meekly raised his left palm, Nazi fashion, and saluted me. He kept his elbow tucked into his waist and held his hand below shoulder level. It was the sheepish salutation he used all through the picture. (Jack Oakie, "When Your Boss Is Charlie Chaplin," Saturday Evening Post, April 1978)

 With Paulette Goddard & CC at the New York premiere of The Great Dictator.
Chaplin is giving a Hynkel salute to the crowd.

_________________________________________________________________________________

¹A different version of the story of Syd recommending Jack for the role is told in an article in the Los Angeles Times from September 1940. In that version, they are talking at a Hollywood party when Syd asks Jack: "Stick out your jaw again that way, will you?...I want you to come around and see Charlie tomorrow, I've got an idea." (Stein, Syd Chaplin)

Rare photos of Chaplin in Nice, March 31st, 1931

Chaplin is seen here on the day of his arrival in Nice during his 1931 world tour. He had just been reunited with his brother, Syd, who had been living there for the last several months. These photos show the brothers, along with press agent, Carlyle Robinson, and European rep. for United Artists, Boris Evelinoff, being greeted at the Imperial Hotel by Frank J. Gould and his wife, Florence. Gould was Chaplin's host in Nice and owner of the hotel.

Chaplin met May Reeves not long after these photos were taken. Both Robinson and Evelinoff would eventually lose their jobs because of the Reeves affair.

Charlie is at left. Syd is second from right.
Frank J. Gould, far right.

Florence Gould shakes hands with Charlie. Carlyle Robinson is at left facing CC.
The woman on the right might be Elsa Maxwell, a friend of Chaplin's,
whom he saw during his visit in Nice.

Charlie and Syd.

Florence Gould pins a flower on Charlie's lapel.
Syd is at right. I believe that's Boris Evelinoff in the center.
Carlyle Robinson is in back behind CC. 

With Paulette at the tennis matches, c. 1935

Dr. Charlie Chaplin

In June1962, Charlie received an honorary Doctor of Letters from Oxford University.  Hugh Trevor-Roper, a distinguished historian and Oxford don, was horrified by the idea. He stated publicly that honorary degrees would be degraded by this award to a mere comedian. "We might as well be honoring a circus clown," he said. That made Charlie "mad, damned mad."

A couple of years later, Chaplin told journalist Peter Steffens about the ceremony:

When I got there, they gave me a big, black robe, and the ceremony went ahead. I still wasn't sure whether I would speak or not--I had an attack of bronchitis, and could hardly speak above a whisper.  Then they told me that I could say something if I wished. I did.

I looked around the audience and I saw him (Trevor-Roper) sitting there, but I didn't look at him directly, and didn't know if I should mention him or his attack, or not. I began, and I said to them, 'I cannot compete with you on knowledge, so I cannot talk about "truth." And I couldn't presume to try to tell you about "goodness" or morality, that's something you understand better than I. But I can talk about "beauty"--that's a matter of individual taste, and preference. I guess we're all equals when it comes to beauty....

And you know, beauty can be found in the most unexpected places. It can be seen (and with a wave of the hand, the whole audience, and the small, black sea of Oxford dons addressed by this English slum boy was before me) in a back alley, with a shaft of sunlight suddenly cutting across a rubbish bin, spilling over with trash...Or, it can be in a rose...floating down a gutter. Or even (slight pause), in the antics of a clown.'

And then I looked straight at him, and they applauded, and that's all I said.

(Steffens, "Chaplin: The Victorian Tramp,"  Ramparts, March 1965)

Chaplin, John Barrymore, & Douglas Fairbanks clowning on the set of Barrymore's film Beau Brummel, 1924.

Barrymore considered Chaplin a great artist & one of the best actors in Hollywood. He told Alma Whitaker in 1925: “The genius of Chaplin is like an iceberg—you only see what’s above water, but you sense the depths. Humor above the water, tragedy below.” (Los Angeles Times, June 21, 1925)

100 years ago this week: Chaplin begins work at the Essanay Studio in Niles, CA & discovers Edna Purviance

Los Angeles Times, January 20th, 1915

100 years ago this week, Chaplin, along with his stock company, arrived at the Essanay studio in Niles, CA, a small town southeast of San Francisco. After making one film¹ at Essanay's Chicago studio, Chaplin had deemed it "too damn cold."

Heavy on his mind at this time was finding a new leading lady for his comedies.  Shortly after his arrival & while a cafe set was being built at his new studio (Chaplin said when he was lost for an idea or a gag, a cafe set usually supplied one), he accompanied G.M. Anderson (co-founder of Essanay) to San Francisco to search for a leading lady. One of Anderson's cowboy actors had told Chaplin about a pretty girl who frequented Tate's Cafe on Hill St. He thought the proprietor might know her. Mr. Tate knew her well. Her name was Edna Purviance. She was from Lovelock, NV and was living with her married sister in San Francisco.  A meeting was arranged at the St. Francis Hotel. During the interview, Chaplin found Edna to be "more than pretty, she was beautiful...with large eyes, beautiful teeth and a sensitive mouth." However despite her looks, he thought she seemed "sad and serious" and doubted whether she could act or if she had any humor because she was so reserved. Nevertheless she was hired. If anything, he thought, she would be "decorative in my comedies."² Edna arrived for work at the Niles studio on January 21st.

An interesting sidebar to this story is that around the time of Chaplin's arrival in San Francisco, Edna's photograph had appeared prominently on the society page of the January 17th edition of the San Francisco Examiner.  The original photo was taken on January 9th, a week before her meeting with Chaplin, at a Grand Ball at the San Francisco Civic Center. It was one of the pre-opening events to the 1915 World's Fair. Did Chaplin see this photograph? One can't help but wonder.

Edna is at far right.
Source: Linda Wada -- www.ednapurviance.org

¹His New Job, released Feb. 1, 1915
²Chaplin, My Autobiography, 1964

Additional sources:
www.ednapurviance.org
Linda Wada, The Sea Gull, 2008

With son, Michael, in St. Tropez, 1956

Chaplin by Adolf de Meyer, 1920

By the Chaplin studio pool, possibly during the filming of HOW TO MAKE MOVIES (1918)

The skylight fall from THE GREAT DICTATOR (1940)

Above: The barber crashes through a skylight and is eventually apprehended by the stormtroopers. Watch the stunt here.

Chaplin actually fell through the skylight in this scene--a 15-foot fall. The "glass" was made from boiled sugar & water. He filmed the stunt in one take.

Below: Production sketches show how the fall was done. These sketches, by art director Russ Spencer, appeared in the December 1940 issue of Photoplay.

Abbott & Costello's favorite movie scene

Saturday Evening Post, January 27, 1945

Recording session for LIMELIGHT, c.1952

Musical arranger Ray Rasch is on Chaplin's left.

Luncheon for Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw at the MGM studio restaurant, March 1933

Shaw flew to Hollywood from the Hearst Ranch in San Simeon, where he and his wife had been guests for several days. He was shown around the MGM lot by Marion Davies, who acted as host, visiting the sets of When Ladies Meet and Dinner At Eight (Chaplin accompanying them). Others present at the lunch were Louis B. Mayer, Clark Gable, William Randolph Hearst, John Barrymore, Harry Crocker, and Una Merkel. Chaplin & Shaw spent much of the meal discussing Japanese theater. The two first met in 1931 during Chaplin's world tour.

L-R: CC, Shaw, Davies, Louis B. Mayer, & Clark Gable

CC, Davies, and Shaw

Rare photo of Chaplin probably taken during his 1931-32 world tour.

Edna Purviance (October 21, 1895 - January 13, 1958)

Edna died of throat cancer at the Motion Picture Country Home 57 years ago today.¹ She was 62. Her funeral was held at Forest Lawn Memorial Park, but she was interred at Grand View Cemetery in Glendale, CA. Edna was a widow at the time of her death. Her husband, Jack Squire, passed away in 1945.

Edna wrote to Chaplin often over the years, even after his move to Switzerland. He admitted that he never responded to her letters, but they must have meant something to him since he includes two of them in the closing pages of his autobiography. The following is one of those letters. In it, Edna tells Charlie about her horrific cancer treatments and thanks him for keeping her on his payroll. As always, Edna ends her letter with a joke:

November 13th, 1956

Dear Charlie,

Here I am again with a heart full of thanks, and back in the hospital (Cedars of Lebanon), taking cobalt X-ray treatment on my neck. There cannot be a hell hereafter! . . . Am thankful my innards are O.K., this is purely and simply local, so they say. All of which reminds me of the fellow standing on the corner of Seventh and Broadway tearing up little bits of paper and throwing them to the four winds. A cop comes along and asks him what was the big idea. He answers, "Just keeping the elephants away." The cop says, "There aren't any elephants in this district." The fellow answers: "Well, it works, doesn't it?" This is my silly for the day, so forgive me.

Hope you and the family are well and enjoying everything you have worked for.

Love always,

Edna

Shortly after he received this letter, Edna died. "And so the world grows young. And youth takes over," he wrote, "And we who have lived a little longer become more estranged as we journey on our way." ²

After Edna's passing, Charlie was asked by an interviewer if he remembered her. He responded, "How could I forget Edna? She was with me when it all began."³

_________________________________________________________________________________

¹ According to Edna's death certificate, she died of "carcinoma of the tonsil with metastasis."
² Charles Chaplin, My Autobiography, 1964
³ David Toll, Edna Purviance, Nevada's Forgotten Movie Star . Sadly, Toll doesn't provide the original source for this quote.

Chaplin at the start of his Essanay career: Shy, cheerful, serious, and scared to death of publicity

It was around this time 100 years ago that Chaplin arrived in Chicago to begin his new contract with the Essanay company. Eager to talk to the comedian about his move to the Windy City and his upcoming film plans, reporters clamored for interviews with the, as they would soon find out, notoriously shy Chaplin. His attempts to dodge them were unsuccessful and the results were some of the first major interviews of his film career--before he became an international star. Below are excerpts from four of these interviews, conducted soon after his arrival at Essanay in January 1915:

"Charles Chaplin In A Serious Mood" by Clarence J. Caine, Motography, January 16, 1915:

He arrived in Chicago the latter part of last week in the company of "Broncho Billy" Anderson and will remain at the Essanay studios in that city indefinitely, producing his imimitable farce comedies which have proved such a drawing card for exhibitors in all parts of the world. He seldom moved as fast while on screen as he did during the first few days of his stay in the Windy City. "Charlie" was wanted here and "Charlie" was wanted there, from the time he arrived in the studio in the morning until he left at night. Therefore it was rather difficult to catch him but I finally managed to corner him in the advertising department of the big studio on Argyle Street for an interview.

"Do you know to what extent the popularity of your comedies has reached?" 

"No," he frankly replied, "but I have been told that they are quite amusing. I often wonder if the people sitting in the theater realize the immense amount of thought we put into our efforts or the depth of screen psychology."

Yes, friend reader, the carefree vision that "skates" into a scene on one foot or throws pies at his "opponents" is really a serious thinking young man. Young because it was only 25 years ago that he was introduced to this life. England being the first country to be honored by his presence....

He paused again and I asked him if he had anything he'd like to tell our readers. 

"Just say that I am doing  my best to please them and that I hope that my releases under the Essanay banner will be as agreeable to them as my past work. And say! Tell them that I am just a fellow, a human being like they are and that I enjoy almost everything that is enjoyable."

Chaplin sporting an Indian headdress, á la the Essanay logo.

"The Funniest Man On The Screen" by Victor Eubank, Motion Picture, March 1915:

Mr. Chaplin threw up his hands. "I have been in the Essanay studio just fifteen minutes," he said, "and I don't know anything about anything."

I had heard about Charles Chaplin joining the Essanay Company and hurried to the Essanay studios at Chicago to get an interview on the new comedies I understood he was going to put out.

I met a rather handsome man with almost jet black hair and brown eyes [sic] which looked at me with a seriousness I could scarcely connect with a comedian. In fact, although I have seen him in comedies many times on the screen, I should not have known him.

I imagined I would see a man about forty years old, tall and with a comical expression. He is short, and he hardly smiled at all during the half-hour I talked with him. He takes his work as seriously as ever a "heavy man" is supposed to do.

He wore not a jewel: no stick pin, no ring, no watch, nothing in the line of ornamentation. I think he paid at least fifteen dollars for his suit, though I did not have the nerve to ask him. But he told me himself, with just a trace of a twinkle in his eye, that he had been grossly insulted by a newsboy, who recognized him, the first minute he landed in Chicago.

"I don't care anything about dress," he said. "As I got off the train a newsie spotted me. 'What do you thank of that hamfat?' he yelled to his companion. 'One hundred thousand bucks a year, and he looks like a tramp. ...'"

"It was only a year and a day ago that someone got the hunch that I could make good in motion pictures, and here I am. Yes, I am going to start immediately on a new line of comedies, and I believe they will beat everything else I have ever put out.

"The first time I looked at myself on the screen, however, I was ready to resign. That can't be I, I thought. Then when I realized it was, I said, 'Good-night.' Strange enough, I was told that the picture was a scream. I had always been ambitious to work in drama, and it certainly was the surprise of my life when I got away with the comedy stuff.

When I asked Mr. Chaplin about comedy, he pulled a long, long face.

"It really is a serious study," he said, "although it must not be taken seriously. That sounds like a paradox, but it's not. It is a serious study to learn characters; it is a hard study. But to make comedy a success there must be an ease, a spontaneity in the acting that cannot be associated with seriousness.

"I lay out my plot and study my character thoroughly. I even follow the character I am to represent for miles or sit and watch him at his work before I attempt to portray him. For instance, I recently took the part of a barber.¹ I even went and got my hair cut, which is my pet aversion. In fact, I never get it cut until the boys along the street yell at me. Then I know it must be done, and I submit to the slaughter.

"But I picked out a particular busy barber shop, so that I could sit there a long time before my turn came. I watched all the barber's ways. I studied out exactly what he did, and what he might be expected to do in my photoplay. Then I followed him home that night. He was some walker, and it was three miles to his home, but I wanted to know all his little idiosyncrasies....

"In fact, naturalness is the greatest requisite of comedy. It must be real and true to life. I believe in realism absolutely. Real things appeal to the people far quicker than the grotesque. My comedy is actual life, with the slightest twist or exaggeration, you might say, to bring out what it might be under certain circumstances.

"People want the truth. In the human heart, for some reason or other, there is love of truth. You must give them the truth in comedy. Spontaneous acting hits the truth nine times out of ten, where studied work misses it just as often.

"But there is a time and place for everything. Even in slapstick comedy there is an art. If one man hits another in a certain way at exactly the right psychological moment, it is funny. If he does it a moment too early or too late, it misses the mark. And there must be a reason to produce a laugh. To pull off an unexpected trick, which the audience sees is a logical sequence, brings down the house.

"It is always the little things that brings the laughs. It is the peculiar capers, the little actions suited to the situation that make the hit.

"Motion picture comedy is still in its infancy. In the next few years I expect to see many improvements that you could then scarcely recognize the comedy of the present day."

"Charles Chaplin, A Modest Violet, Scared To Death Of Publicity" by Mae Tinee, Chicago Tribune, January 10, 1915:

"Why," I asked him at the start, "don't you like to be interviewed? Don't you know it's good for you?"

"I doubt it," he said. "You see, people aren't strong for celebrities that are already made. When a man's been boasted to the skies, they're apt to sit back in their seats and say: 'I don't see anything so wonderful about that chap. Nothing to make a fuss about. He's overrated.' But if the man is not made, they take joy and pride in discovering him. They say: 'Now, there's a man that can act. He's a comer.' Later when the man's made good they have all the joy of saying: 'I told you so.' Get me?" 

"How did you happen to leave Keystone?"

"Contract ran out. I had several other offers, but Mr. Anderson's was the most promising, so I accepted. I think I'm going to like it here--nice people, nice studio, etc. With conditions favorable a man can do much better work, you know. I'll miss California and the old Keystone bunch, though," he sighed. 

"But," I comforted him," your audience will follow you. That should delight your soul! And your correspondents will write to you."

He grinned. "You bet they will. Say, Miss Tinee, I must tell you about the first letter I ever received. I never was so pleased about anything in my life. It was from a little chap, and after telling me I was his 'favrit' about six times, he ended his letter by saying, 'You was certainly grand, Mr. Chaplin, all threw the pixter, but the way you squirted watter out of your moth was classic!"

We laughed until we cried. Then he talked a little longer about his work, etc. Finally as I saw several people waiting impatiently, I left him and I'm sure I was not mistaken about hearing him heave a sigh of relief. It sounded like a gust, so fulsome was it!

He's a nice as well as a funny Charlie Chaplin, 25 and unmarried, girls. 

L-R: Francis X. Bushman, CC, and Broncho Billy Anderson, Chicago, 1915

"Charlie Chaplin: Cheerful Comedian" by Mary E. Porter, Picture-Play Weekly, April 24, 1915:

I rested in the advertising department of the Chicago studio of the Essanay Film Manufacturing Company, waiting for an interview, while the reserve forces of that department set out to find the popular Charlie. Yes, they all called him "Charlie," though he had just arrived in their midst a few days before.

I wondered what sort of a fellow I was to meet. Was he old and gloomy, or was he middle-aged and foolish? And did he wear that little mustache in life off the screen? A thousand other things passed through my brain, until finally I admitted that I could in no way picture him to myself in advance.

Just as I reached this decision the advertising manager hurried into the room, followed by a smiling young chap, whom he introduced as "Mr. Chaplin."

I wonder what he thought of me as I said something I could not remember a moment later, and looked at him in surprise. He was just an ordinary fellow in his twenties — twenty-five. I learned later—rather short, and of slight build; but the thing that impressed me most was his smiling, friendly features. At once I ceased wondering why they called him Charlie.

"I presume it is undignified for a near-critic to offer a compliment," I said, by way of an opening shot, "but I certainly have enjoyed your pictures."

"It's very kind of you to say that, I'm sure," he replied, with a gracious smile. Then he added, with a twinkle in his eye: "I'm afraid you are trying to put me in good humor for the interview, though, and really you haven't a chance to succeed."

We both laughed, and drew our chairs--supplied by the watchful advertising manager--up to a table in the corner of the room.

"You have an awful job on your hands if you expect to make this interesting reading matter," he said, "for there are thousands of other players whose experiences have been far more exciting than mine."

"We will do the best we can," I comforted, and my tone must have sounded consoling, for Charlie--I guess I'll have to call him that, too--laughed. Before we could begin, some one, who thought the room was too warm, opened the window. The cold Chicago air swooped down upon the comedian, and he executed one of those funny little turn-the-nose-up-and-look-to-the-side tricks you have often seen him "get over" on the screen. Then he quickly moved his chair around to the side nearest the steam pipes.

"And to think I was in California last week!" he said, in such a long-suffering tone that every one in the room was forced to laugh. "Broncho" Anderson did this. Only for him I wouldn't be freezing. I'll have to stand it a while longer. Then it's back West for mine." I knew he meant that if G.M. Anderson, "Broncho Billy," as the public knows him, hadn't signed him for the Essanay folks, that he would still be in the land of sunshine and motion pictures--namely California. But Charlie didn't mean things the way he said them. I soon found this out, and I also learned that about two-thirds of the things he said had a laugh-getting power which one could not resist.

We settled down to our interview finally, and it was in the first few sentences that I learned his age, which I have previously given. And girls! He also said he wasn't married, and had no thought of entering the marital state for some time.

"Tell me something about your career," I requested, after carefully making a mental note of the "not married" fact.

He paused a moment to think over what he had done. Then he said: "I guess that will be easy. I worked in England for a while with my brother—you know I was born in England —and then joined the "Night in an English Music Hall" vaudeville company. We toured the Continent, and then came to America, where we traveled from coast to coast. I think we were here aboutwo years. I played under several names; but I have been told that the only way the public distinguished me was as the 'funny drunk.' "

"We were in the East...and Mack Sennet, who had seen the act while we were in California, wired me that there was an opening in the rank of the Keystone Company. Ford Sterling was leaving, though I didn't know who was who in pictures at that time as I had never been much of a fan. Since I had first appeared before an audience I had an ambition to become a great dramatic actor, but it seemed that things had never come my way in this line."

"The usual desire of the comedian for tragic roles," I murmured.

Charlie smiled broadly, and I made another note on his character. He is one of those cheerful fellows, and never allows anything to give him the blues. The more things go wrong for his class the funnier the world seems. Therefore the title of this story....

 "Can you imagine how I felt, when I reported at the Keystone studio, and was told that I was to become chief comedian, and that I was to use the same methods that I had used in vaudeville?"

Charlie stopped, and laughed. Then he cleverly reached over and took the advertising manager's cigarette case from that worthy's desk, without being noticed, at the same time giving another clever exhibition of facial expression. After asking my permission, he lit one of the cigarettes, and, by means of letting the advertising manager know what had happened, thanked him for the smoke.

And then?" I queried.

He looked surprised, for he seemed to think that he had told all that was of interest.

 "Nothing much," he added.

"A little over a year with Keystone, and then my present engagement with Essanay. I believe I will do some of the best work of my career here, for if the public look to my pictures as part of their amusement, I want to satisfy them."

¹This statement is a bit of a mystery. Some have wondered if Chaplin may have originally been involved in the Syd Chaplin comedy, Giddy, Gay & Ticklish, which is set in a barbershop, and was filmed toward the end of Charlie's career at Keystone. But Chaplin doesn't appear in the finished film and no evidence exists that he had anything to do with it. If anything, Chaplin may have just made up the barbershop stuff for the interview.

Photos of Chaplin with his 162-lb marlin swordfish at Catalina Island, October 6th, 1918

Chaplin landed the fish in 22 minutes.

On the right is Capt. J. Edmundson, one of the Catalina Island boatmen.
Photo: www.idamay.org

Chaplin's future wife Mildred Harris (they were married 17 days later)
poses with Charlie and his catch (and the capt.)
Photo: My Life In Pictures by Chaplin

Below are a couple of other photos that appear to have been taken the same day.

Chaplin, left, is pointing to the fish and to himself. Roscoe "Fatty"Arbuckle is on the right.
I'm not sure who the man in the middle is (Cecil Reynolds?)
Photo: Roy Export SAS

With  Arbuckle.
Photo: Chaplin: Genius Of The Cinema by Jeffrey Vance

A Day's Pleasure (1919) footage comparison

Here's another interesting comparison by João Antonio Franz. The Russian version appears to have some alternate takes and additional footage not seen in the Chaplin Revue version.

Chaplin receiving the International Peace Prize (1954)

Some of this footage was new to me. Sadly, it's silent.

Charlie and Elvis

I have always felt that Charlie Chaplin and Elvis Presley had very similar stories. Besides the fact that they died the same year, both were brought up very poor, found worldwide fame, suffered from depression, were deep thinkers, and very shy. Elvis' story is much more tragic, of course. Both had to deal with mass adoration but Elvis seemed to need more of an escape from it. Thus he died too young and too soon. But I digress...

In the early 1950s, a friend brought Chaplin a copy of Elvis' first record. Jerry Epstein recalls Charlie's reaction:

Charlie was always aware of the public. While at the Manoir in 1954, a friend visited him and brought him a record of a new singer called Elvis Presley. Charlie hadn't heard of him. "This man has made a sensation in the States," his friend said. "I can't understand it. He wiggles his hips and sings and people go mad." "If he's made such an impact," Charlie replied, "he must have something. You can't fool the public." --Remembering Charlie by Jerry Epstein

Spanish journalist Marino Gomez-Santos delivers a letter to Chaplin from Edgar Neville

The following is a very loose translation of the events which were originally published in the Spanish newspaper, ABC, in 1968:

In February 1964, Spanish journalist, Marino Gomez-Santos and photographer Pepe Campúa drove to Chaplin's estate in Vevey to deliver a letter to him from Edgar Neville and perhaps try to get an interview. When they arrived, the front gate to the estate was open so they stepped inside and began walking up the path towards the house. Almost immediately Chaplin appeared from behind some trees. He was dressed in a cream-colored cashmere coat, a white shirt with no tie, a hat, and sunglasses. Chaplin told them that if they had a message, they could leave it with his secretary at the house. He stepped back three or four paces as if not wanting to break a barrier. He then asked them what they wanted. Gomez-Santos responded that they were Spaniards. "Journalists?" asked Chaplin. "Of course," he replied. "Call my secretary tomorrow. Now I want to finish my walk because my head hurts." Sensing that Chaplin was trying to get rid of them, the journalist acted quickly. He told Chaplin that Edgar Neville and Tono (the Spanish humorist) had told him much about him. "Ah, yes! Neville & Tone!" said Chaplin. "Is Neville still so fat? I saw him some years ago when we were in London. I hardly recognized him. When he came to Hollywood, he was young and athletic."^1, 2 Chaplin smiled but only for an instant. He then rubbed his forehead, as if annoyed by the nostalgia of it all, sunk his hands deep into his pockets and took off to finish his walk. And that was that.

The full story (in Spanish) and more photographs can be found here:
http://campuafotografo.es/2014/07/28/charlie-chaplin-charlot-ante-la-camara-campua-suiza-fotografia/

Chaplin and Marino Gomez-Santos. Note that Chaplin is holding the letter from
Edgar Neville.

Chaplin runs away after his encounter with the journalists.

¹Neville arrived in Hollywood in 1930 where he became a screenwriter for MGM. He became friends with Chaplin, often playing tennis at his house on the weekends.
²One might be compelled to point out to Chaplin that he was not as svelte in 1964 as he was in 1930 either.