Charlie Chaplin in LIMELIGHT (1952) – If 1914 had been a little different for him…

(WARNING: Major spoilers abound!)

My favorite film critic, the late Pauline Kael, “made her bones” as a movie critic with her debut review (in San Francisco’s magazine) of Chaplin’s Limelight. Kael made bones about despising the movie; her review was headlined “Slimelight.” The review’s truncated version, which appeared in Kael’s capsule-review collection 5,001 Nights at the Movies, I quote here in its entirety:

[The movie is] hishis

Other than Kael’s remarks about Calvero’s routines and Bloom’s charm, I can’t find any point to debate – and yet I still find the movie alluring.

The movie began life as an autobiographical novel titled Footlights — the “Chaplin Collection” DVD of the movie contains sound clips of Chaplin reading two brief passages from the erstwhile novel – so it’s not too surprising how self-absorbed the movie is. It’s set in London in 1914 (ironically, the year Chaplin became a hit in movies). Calvero (Chaplin), a washed-up stage comedian, happens upon Terry (Claire Bloom), a young girl in his apartment building who has attempted suicide. Calvero saves her from death and nurses her back to health. Terry is a wanna-be ballet dancer who fears she has lost the use of her legs, and basically, she and Calvero take turns building up each other’s self-confidence.

Terry eventually meets up with Neville (Chaplin’s eldest son Sydney), a composer with whom she had briefly crossed paths, and Calvero urges her to forge a bond with him. But Terry is so grateful to Calvero that she pushes Neville aside and insists to Calvero that she loves . There are a couple of major obstacles with this plot point. Kael notwithstanding, I found Bloom’s performance mostly two-note; she’s either heroically enduring pain or bleating out her deepest thoughts. And as with the supposed charm of the lead character in Monsieur Verdoux, the supposed passion that Terry feels for Calvero is more than to us, so that when Terry finally declares “I love you” to Calvero, it’s as much a surprise to us as to him.

Secondly, the movie would be far more interesting if this passion were acted upon, in manner – say, with Calvero denying his true feelings for Terry while being jealous that Neville is making time with her. Instead, Calvero clucks that Terry can’t possibly be in love with her while enjoying her worship at the same time (he’s not even jealous of Neville, who seems to be one more person within his orbit of worship). So this May-December romance is an intriguing plot thread left dangling all the way to movie’s end.

The other major problem is the movie’s pacing. The movie’s present-day (1914) story grinds to a halt several times for flashbacks – Calvero’s dreams about the past, Terry’s story about her first meeting Neville, etc. Mind you, many of the flashbacks are the movie’s most worthwhile moments, especially when they revolve around Calvero’s stage act. Yet one wishes Chaplin could have compacted them better into his script. (Perhaps if he’d gotten rid of some of Calvero’s long-winded philosophizing…)

And yet, the movie is not without its merits. While Bloom is so-so and (poor) Sydney registers zero as an on-screen presence, much of the acting is quite enjoyable. As Bodalink, the impresario who arranges Calvero’s eventual comeback, Norman Lloyd looks and plays like a link to Show Business Past. In her brief but lovely appearances as Calvero’s buxom landlady, Marjorie Bennett seems as though she could have played with Chaplin in one of his two-reelers, especially when Calvero is trying to woo her into another month’s rent-free stay at his apartment.

I also don’t agree with Kael’s comments about Calvero’s stage act. The bit with the “trained” fleas is at least amusing, and Calvero’s banter with Claire Bloom on-stage brings to mind the quote often attributed to Chaplin wherein he told Groucho Marx, “I wish I could speak like you on-screen.” Here, he just about does so.

And of course, there’s the famous, wordless stage duet that Chaplin does with Buster Keaton near movie’s end. If you haven’t seen the movie and you ever fantasized about two movie comedy legends getting together…well, for about ten minutes, this movie grants your wish.

(And perhaps it’s my imagination, but the shot of Calvero finishing his act, and then looking out in horror to a sea of empty seats…Did they pay to that shot in The Rocky Horror Picture Show? It sure looks like it.)

Limelight is yet another of those Chaplin vehicles that’s flawed but fascinating; you wish it was better than it is, yet even in its final state, you can’t keep your eyes off it.