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| L-R: Geraldine, Josephine, CC, Victoria, Michael, and Oona |
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| Sir Charles, wearing the insignia of the K.B.E., surrounded by his family in his suite at the Savoy Hotel following the ceremony. L-R: son-in-law Nicholas Sistovaris (Josephine's husband), Annette, Josephine, CC, Oona, Christopher, Geraldine, and Jane. |
The 85-year-old maestro of films had been anxious to kneel before Queen Elizabeth II for his investiture and to follow her command afterward to "arise, Sir Charles Chaplin." He was not physically able to do either. He sat in a wheelchair in the ballroom of Buckingham Palace and merely bowed his head in acknowledgement of the taps of her ceremonial sword.
It was the queen who made the comedian smile. She complimented him and squeezed his hand, but Sir Charles, as he told reporters later, was "too dumbfoundcd to talk" to her. He said she had thanked him for his work and told him that she had seen many of his films.
After the tension of the ceremony, at which 172 people received royal honors, Sir Charles was able to stand up again and even to wave his cane in triumph at the gathered crowds outside. He also gave Lady Chaplin, the former Oona O'Neill, hearty kisses on both cheeks.
Then he was asked what he had planned for the rest of the memorable day. “Getting drunk,” said Sir Charles.
The hardships he had encountered as a London slum child, and the hatreds he had inspired as a Hollywood star for his sex life and his politics, seemed to have been formally stilled by the tap of the sword.
But Sir Charles bristled when it was suggested that his knighthood was the culmination of his long career. “l’ve got one more film to do," he declared. "lt will be entitled 'The Freak,' he said.Click here to see (silent) footage of Charlie outside Buckingham Palace following the investiture. A brief video clip of Charlie being interviewed be seen here.
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| Photo from Chaplin family Christmas card, 1973. L-R: Oona, Jane, Christopher, CC, Annette |
- Annette Chaplin: Christmas was the best time. My mother's gardener decorated the house. It was never overdone. You couldn't see the tree in the foyer, there were so many ornaments on it. On Christmas Eve the local optician from the village came in dressed as Santa Claus. He sang old carols in French in the most amazing voice, especially in the hall, which had an echo. My father used to stand there with his mouth open.
- Geraldine Chaplin: On Christmas Day, the Rossiers, friends of my parents' from Vevey, would come for Christmas dinner, as would Clara Haskil [the well-known Romanian concert pianist]. After dinner Clara would play the piano and Daddy would show his movies. There were always masses of presents. I cannot tell you the number of children and the number of presents, five or six, from each child to each child. Mummy bought them all. We never knew what we were giving anyone until we were quite old and had to buy our own presents.
- Michael Chaplin: My father always said he hated Christmas. Whether he actually did, I don't know, because he loved having Clara Haskil there. I think he hated the present part and the Christmas tree and all that.
- Geraldine Chaplin: Christmas depressed him. It brought back memories that he wasn't fond of. When he was little and poor, he told us over and over, all he got for Christmas was an orange. He used to try to spoil the day for everyone, and he finally did. He died on Christmas morning.
(Interview magazine, September 1989)
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| Christmas, 1955 L-R: Oona, Geraldine, Victoria, Josephine, CC, Michael |
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| Charlie and family at the premiere. Son Sydney (who plays Neville) towers over all of them. |
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| A page from the program for the London premiere. ( Source: Limelight, Chaplin Project, N.1) |
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| Letter from the American Legion to United Artists requesting suspension of the film's distribution. ( Source: Limelight, Chaplin Project, N.1) |
"We think it is a 'masterpiece' and the greatest Charlie has ever made. There are no superlatives I could use to do justice to it. It was so well acted, so beautifully balanced between laughter and pathos. Gypsy and I cried like kids, so much so, that we waited for everyone to leave the room before we left our seats. You did an excellent piece of acting Charlie and so did Claire Bloom....
It's a good thing you have not my brooding nature. If I had had to endure the persecution you have received in this country, someone would have been murdered. I think it is a damnable crime that such a picture as 'Limelight' should be banned in America....I get a great satisfaction when I hear people praise your work. It makes me very proud of you and I console myself with the thought that I am Charlie Chaplin's brother, which is my usual form of introduction and which does not arouse in me the slightest thought of jealousy. I glory in your success and bask in your 'Limelight'" (Syd Chaplin: A Biography, Lisa K. Stein, McFarland, 2010)
- Charlie and I lived together, sharing the same room, for more than two years, and many's the time we cooked our dinners in our room. I fried the chops, while Charlie sat close to the door playing his mandolin to keep the landlady from hearing the sizzling of the meat over the gas--which was put there for lighting purposes only and not with any idea of cooking! --Stan Laurel, Film Weekly, Sept. 1929. Reprinted in Peter Haining's Charlie Chaplin: A Centennial Celebration.
- Perhaps his emotional state can be best illustrated by the food he eats. One week he solemnly informs us that he is a vegetarian, that meat is bad for one, and that lettuce and fruit form the ideal food. We all become vegetarian. The next week, he looks up and says: "What I need is a big juicy steak. Good meat to build up the body and brain." The following week it becomes cantaloupe filled with ice cream. "Everybody is eating too much," he says. "One can work much better on light lunches." His favorite dish I remember to be banana nut ice cream. --Virginia Cherrill, Picturegoer magazine, Dec. 9th, 1935.
- Every Tuesday at the Manoir was the cook's day off, and my mother used to take over the kitchen. She is surprisingly good over a cookstove. Tuesday was the day when she cooked for my father all his favorite dishes. None of the five star Cordon Bleu routine, but things he must have had, or wished he'd had, as a kid in South London...tripe and onions, steak and kidney pie, and stews with dumplings in them. But his craziest food fad is for a thing called Almond Joy. They're an American chocolate bar with an almond on top of them. The Swiss, with a swinging chocolate industry, don't encourage outsiders, and you can't buy Almond Joy there or in England. So any visitor he has coming in from the States loads up with candies for the old man. --Michael Chaplin, I Couldn't Smoke The Grass On My Father's Lawn, 1966.
- Most days we went to lunch at Musso and Frank's, a nearby restaurant that is to this day one of my favorites. Charlie, Henry Bergman (who appeared in any Chaplin films), Carter de Haven, Sr. (who had been a famous actor, and was the father of Gloria de Haven), and I would travel in splendor in Charlie's limousine. We always sat in the same corner table in the back room and had the same rather bored waiter. Almost anyone else would have been elated at the prospect of serving an artist of such eminence, but this one was onto all of Charlie's tricks and affected to be unaffected by them. But I loved every minute of it. Charlie had certain little songs with which he would order lunch, and we learned to sing them along with him. One of them, to the tune of "I Want A Lassie," went: "I want a curry; a ricy, spicy curry, With a dish of chutney on the side!" Another, to the melody of "Irish Eyes Are Smiling," went: "An I-rish Stew, with veg-e-ta-bles...!" All were performed with gusto. Diners who were startled by the sudden outbursts from the corner table seemed to be quickly mollified at the thought of enlivening their dinner conversations with the accounts of the luncheon entertainment. --David Raksin, "Life With Charlie Chaplin," Quarterly Journal Of The Library Of Congress, 1983
- The Chaplins ate outdoors as often as possible, on a large terrace overlooking a long expanse of lawn, and the mountains in the distance. Wild strawberries with heavy cream provided an occasion for a kind of dramatic production by Chaplin. He would choose the best-looking ones and present them, one at a time, to Oona, to himself, to a guest, and to each of his children--in that order. At the close of one such production, he shared a confidence with me. "Every once in a while," he said, "the old lady and I get out the caviar and champagne. And we don't invite anybody else. We sit here gorging ourselves. Just the two of us." --Lillian Ross, Moments With Chaplin, 1980
- Charles Chaplin likes stewed tripe and hates whiskey. He does like good wines, and drinks cocktails when the occasion seems to require it. Before prohibition, he always had a well-stocked cellar, never drank much himself, and always was a perfect host alcoholically. Since prohibition came, the same is true. Besides stewed tripe, he likes lamb stew. Those are two of his three favorite dishes. He dislikes seasoning, never uses sauces or violent condiments and doesn't care for highly spiced dishes. The one exception is curry, the hotter the better. That's his third favorite dish. He is utterly inconsistent about eating. Sometimes he will go for twenty-four hours or longer without taking a morsel. Then he'll eat four or five meals within the next day. He goes on diets but never keeps them up. He went rabidly on a raw vegetable diet for several days. "Look at animals," he said, "they eat raw vegetables and are healthy. The elephant is the biggest and strongest animal; he eats only vegetables." That night, Charlie ate two beefsteaks, rare.
His cook will work for a day or two to prepare an epicurean meal for him. Charlie sits down and it is served. He doesn't like the looks or aroma of something before him. So he leaves the table and goes to a cheap lunch counter and eats ham and eggs. He likes to eat at drug store lunch counters. His favorite restaurant is Henry's. The proprietor is his assistant director. When he is served something he likes very much, he takes as many as five helpings. It makes him violently ill. --Harry Lang, "No Talkies For Charlie," Photoplay, May 1930
- I went to Chaplin’s house. And they served dinner in the living room, and I remember they served chicken, loose chicken. And there was a bowl in the middle so you could help yourself. And the plate was quite large, and it was like a soup, but not quite—it was wonderful looking. And Charlie gets a spoon, slurp, both hands, the bread, slurp, and I’m going, "Oh my God! Uuuh!" And I’m going, "I don’t believe this!" ‘cause I’m very proper, and Oona was so proper, but you know, I figured she knows what to do, I’ll just follow what she does, just consider everything normal and keep on going. And it was the funniest thing, because it was such a shock! I’d never seen anybody schlurp it in and chew with an open mouth and with everything going at once. And laughing and talking and everything, and I’m going, "Oh my God!" --Interview with Marilyn Nash, Limelight magazine, Spring 1997
- Looking across to the little boats bobbing gently by the quayside at Avalon, I was startled by a deferential cough and turned to see Chaplin standing over me. He had come up from below as lightly as a grasshopper and was standing there in an attitude of a butler awaiting orders, head cocked expectantly, a napkin over the left forearm, his hand poised in a kindly step-this-way freeze. It was the silent movie call to breakfast and we went below. I have seen only one other man dispatch a meal with such speed. But whereas Adlai Stevenson, belying his general reputation for delicacy shovelled the stuff in with hands as pudgy as baseball mitts, Chaplin disposed of eggs and bacon and a wad of pancakes almost as a display of sleight of hand. One of the permanent pleasures of being with him was to watch the grace and deftness with which he performed all physical movements, from pouring syrup to swerving like a matador just out of the line of an oncoming truck. --Alistaire Cooke, Six Men, 1956
- He was a great entertainer. It was always nice to go out with him. He'd do these amazing things with fish in the restaurant too. He'd always ask for a trout that's boiled alive. It's sort of twisted into a funny position and he would take the trout and look at it and say, "Oh, Emma, darling!" And kiss the trout on the lips, and suck out its eyes. We'd all be screaming. "Oh, daddy! Oh, how can you! It's so horrible." He'd ask for the wine, taste it, spit it out and the say, "Wonderful." He loved an audience and we, his kids, were a fantastic audience for him. --Geraldine Chaplin, Variety, April 2003.
- Chaplin conveys the stigma he felt, as a "nondescript of the slums" and underlines the depth of their destitution, by citing simply the absence of a home-cooked dinner on Sunday. "Even the poorest of children sat down to a roast that night," he reports, a ritual that distinguished one poor class from the beggar-class, "and we were that...The shame of it —especially on Sunday!" But they just couldn't afford it. On the other side of the same coin, something they could afford that Chaplin loved, was bread and dripping. This was fried bread sopped in beef juice: that was what impoverished English families ate when they couldn't buy anything else to eat. It was what was left from other foods: bread was used to sop up juice and melted fat from some meat that had been cooked and eaten, often long before. It was a staple of the poor. The night they returned from his father's funeral, this was all there was to eat--they even had to sell a little oil stove in order to buy bread. His association with it is pleasant: "There were times when I would stay home, and Mother would make tea and fry bread in beef dripping, which I relished...."
His wealth is not just protection, it is his revenge for the stinging humiliations he endured as a nobody. But his greatness? He continually returned to the term, "clown," "nothing but a clown," until I asked him directly whether he had any idea of what it was that linked him to the millions of people who felt so close to him, who loved his "tramp" who worshipped him as something more than an actor, as something more personal than a showman. His whole answer, in strong, decisive terms, was: "Yes. Bread and dripping." --Peter Steffens, "Charlie Chaplin: The Victorian Tramp," Ramparts, March 1965
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| Charlie & Oona, Christmas 1962 |
He always got very depressed at Christmas because we made it the big fiesta of the year. There were a lot of children and a big Christmas tree, and loads and loads of presents. He'd come down in the morning and see them, get pretty depressed and go into the library and say, "All I had was an orange when I was your age." Then we'd come in and show him our presents and say, "You bought me this lovely dress!" And he'd say, "Oh!" and brighten up and be OK.
Then he managed to die on Christmas Day. He was never able to spoil Christmas for us because there were always so many presents. Finally he died on Christmas Day! All the presents were under the tree and someone came down and said, "Grandfather died." The grandchildren said to Michael, "Does that mean we can't open the presents?" So Michael took all the presents into the garage and they had a party there.
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| Marlon Brando & Sophia Loren in a scene from A Countess From Hong Kong |
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| Charlie directs his daughter Geraldine and Marlon Brando in a dance scene. His son Sydney and daughters Josephine and Victoria also appear in the film. |
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| Charlie's cameo |
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| Behind the camera for the last time |
