First off, I am a huge fan of Chaplin. At least that of the silent movie idiom. I just bought and watched (for the first time) "Limelight" and it is the first Chaplin talkie I have watched. So, I have nothing to compare it to. Frankly I was astonished at how maudlin and depressing the overall feeling is throughout. The theme of the film could have developed into a powerful drama but in my eyes sunk into self-indulgent and a surprisingly poor story. Let's take Chaplin himself. He was well known for his ability to play a "drunk" and did so many times in films, hearkening back to his pre-film days in England. His drunken state in the film is always the same without drawing out much more than a cardboard rendition of a drunken state. His wobbling about never has anything humorous about it. If it was meant to appear dramatic or tragic than it did not even come close to suggesting this. I was left wondering, always wondering, where is he going with this? For me it went plodding along to nothingness.
Let's examine Claire Bloom. In far too many scenes her acting is overwrought and over the top. I ended up wondering if she was creating a parody of a tragic heroine? The early romance with the composer that she was unable to fulfill re-appears later in the film, all of it manipulated over and over again by an ambivalent Chaplin who does not quite believe what he's doing with his machinations. Chaplin's character seems to be so washed up that the only time he comes to life is when he's saving someone else's. Claire Bloom is a fine actor but the script and the direction turn her into a rag doll that is pushed around the screen by Chaplin.
There are some strengths in the film and it's a shame Chaplin didn't develop them further. The odd choice of Bloom's character falling in love with a man who could be her grandfather is not given enough twist or edge. Perhaps that would have been asking just a wee bit too much of an early 50's audience to stomach? Still, the platonic love she offers is spurned by Chaplin but at the first opportunity, six months later, she is right back where she started from, fully in love with Chaplin. Even though she says she's grown older and maybe wiser, her actions defy her words. There is a very shocking scene which jolted me and that is where just before Bloom is to dance before a huge crowd she cries to Chaplin that she's lost the feelings in her feet and legs and can't go on. He shouts at her and then when this is not good enough he slaps her on the face so hard he could have snapped her neck. The smacking sound in the movie is very pronounced and the effect on the viewer is very powerful. In keeping with the over the top elements of the drama, she goes on to dance her heart out and bring the house down. It's just way too exaggerated and unbelievable.
Keaton: I've read that some people think that Chaplin brought Keaton into this film as a gesture, albeit a very token one, to an old colleague from the good old days. Keaton is not introduced, we don't know why he's there (unless I missed something) and yet there he is at Chaplin's very important benefit concert. This scene leads me into another weakness in the film. The skit that Chaplin first puts on at the benefit is a repeat of what we've seen him do at least 2 or 3 times earlier in the film and it's a very bad version of a badly talented second rate hack from Vaudeville-type shows. Why he created this characterization was lost on me the first time but after 3 times I was more than a little perturbed. Was Chaplin insisting we believe that his character never had any talent in the first place? That would be contradictory to earlier information we are told about Calvero.
So, we put up with Chaplin's terrible rendition and then Keaton joins him on the stage during the encore. At last the sparks begin to fly. Finally we have the two undisputed masters putting on a delicious sequence of slapstick. And I laughed out loud for the first time in the entire film. Keaton is hilarious and Chaplin is wonderful. These old guys never lost a single bit of their timing. What is so clear in this sequence is that what is funny (at least in this film) is two guys acting as if they were in a silent picture! They don't say anything but we are in stitches, just like we all were when we watched their many silent films.
The movie comes to an over-the-top end just a few minutes later. I sat there with my mouth open wondering what on earth Chaplin was thinking? He could have made us cry but the drama in the film was overt, exaggerated, bathos in full, pathetic only in it's underdevelopment. This was a man who created the most memorable characters in silent movies; he knew how to write and to direct and for me this film was stillborn from the getgo. If he was in the mood for self-indulgent sighing about his past, like almost all late Jerry Lewis comedy, then he did it very badly. Honestly, I was astonished at how bad this film was and I do not know why others rave about it. I am still a fan but this film left me confused and dumbfounded.
Let's examine Claire Bloom. In far too many scenes her acting is overwrought and over the top. I ended up wondering if she was creating a parody of a tragic heroine? The early romance with the composer that she was unable to fulfill re-appears later in the film, all of it manipulated over and over again by an ambivalent Chaplin who does not quite believe what he's doing with his machinations. Chaplin's character seems to be so washed up that the only time he comes to life is when he's saving someone else's. Claire Bloom is a fine actor but the script and the direction turn her into a rag doll that is pushed around the screen by Chaplin.
There are some strengths in the film and it's a shame Chaplin didn't develop them further. The odd choice of Bloom's character falling in love with a man who could be her grandfather is not given enough twist or edge. Perhaps that would have been asking just a wee bit too much of an early 50's audience to stomach? Still, the platonic love she offers is spurned by Chaplin but at the first opportunity, six months later, she is right back where she started from, fully in love with Chaplin. Even though she says she's grown older and maybe wiser, her actions defy her words. There is a very shocking scene which jolted me and that is where just before Bloom is to dance before a huge crowd she cries to Chaplin that she's lost the feelings in her feet and legs and can't go on. He shouts at her and then when this is not good enough he slaps her on the face so hard he could have snapped her neck. The smacking sound in the movie is very pronounced and the effect on the viewer is very powerful. In keeping with the over the top elements of the drama, she goes on to dance her heart out and bring the house down. It's just way too exaggerated and unbelievable.
Keaton: I've read that some people think that Chaplin brought Keaton into this film as a gesture, albeit a very token one, to an old colleague from the good old days. Keaton is not introduced, we don't know why he's there (unless I missed something) and yet there he is at Chaplin's very important benefit concert. This scene leads me into another weakness in the film. The skit that Chaplin first puts on at the benefit is a repeat of what we've seen him do at least 2 or 3 times earlier in the film and it's a very bad version of a badly talented second rate hack from Vaudeville-type shows. Why he created this characterization was lost on me the first time but after 3 times I was more than a little perturbed. Was Chaplin insisting we believe that his character never had any talent in the first place? That would be contradictory to earlier information we are told about Calvero.
So, we put up with Chaplin's terrible rendition and then Keaton joins him on the stage during the encore. At last the sparks begin to fly. Finally we have the two undisputed masters putting on a delicious sequence of slapstick. And I laughed out loud for the first time in the entire film. Keaton is hilarious and Chaplin is wonderful. These old guys never lost a single bit of their timing. What is so clear in this sequence is that what is funny (at least in this film) is two guys acting as if they were in a silent picture! They don't say anything but we are in stitches, just like we all were when we watched their many silent films.
The movie comes to an over-the-top end just a few minutes later. I sat there with my mouth open wondering what on earth Chaplin was thinking? He could have made us cry but the drama in the film was overt, exaggerated, bathos in full, pathetic only in it's underdevelopment. This was a man who created the most memorable characters in silent movies; he knew how to write and to direct and for me this film was stillborn from the getgo. If he was in the mood for self-indulgent sighing about his past, like almost all late Jerry Lewis comedy, then he did it very badly. Honestly, I was astonished at how bad this film was and I do not know why others rave about it. I am still a fan but this film left me confused and dumbfounded.