Charlot cambrioleur

The Tramp never had much going on with authority and the police in the first place, but we never saw (well, at least I didn't) Chaplin quite as criminal as in 'The Police'.

In the first scene he's released from prison and a minister of some sort wants to guide him on the right path, but Charlie finds himself robbed by this imposter. So out of money and out of hope he runs into his old cell-mate, and the two of them decide to rob a big mansion.

When they finally get inside (after an encounter with a police-officer), the young woman living there (a part by Edna Purviance) is being alarmed by some noise, and she calls the police. They don't seem too interested though, as they finish their drinks before checking out the scene.

Meanwhile, Edna confronts the burglars and lets them take away some things, as long as they don't go up, as that would scare her mother. Charlie agrees but his mate doesn't, and they get into a fight just as the police finally arrives as well.

In the end, Edna feels sorry for Charlie and claims that he's her husband so he won't be arrested, and Charlie finally sees that robbing people isn't the right way to live.

Great ending there, with Charlie in love and standing in the sun, of a pretty good Chaplin short about forgiving and living well. 7/10.

This short comedy marked an impressive leap forward for Charlie Chaplin: it tells a good story in a clear and economical manner, Charlie himself is a sympathetic and even dignified figure though down-and-out, and there are elements of social commentary that don't overwhelm everything else. Oh, and 'Police' also happens to be quite funny, even laugh out loud funny at times. Nothing feels forced, for the gags all spring naturally from the situation and from Charlie's character, and we never get the sense he's straining to make us laugh, nor is there any gratuitous knockabout. Barely two years after facing a camera for the first time, Chaplin the director demonstrates real maturity as a filmmaker while Chaplin the performer is at or near his early peak.

The setting is certainly gritty. As the film opens Charlie is being released from prison after serving time for some unspecified crime, and almost immediately he's set upon by an oily fake preacher who urges him to "go straight" while quietly picking his pocket. (After learning this hard lesson Charlie is suspicious of all others who use the phrase, and no wonder.) When he arrives at a flophouse to lodge for the night, Charlie sees an obviously ill man who is allowed in free of charge by the proprietor; so he coughs, sucks in his cheeks and tries to pass himself off as consumptive, but the proprietor isn't fooled. Funny? Well, yes, it's an amusing gag, but only in the bleakest sense. Charlie is a genuine tramp here, not just an eccentric in a derby, and your enjoyment of the film may depend on your tolerance for this brand of grim, whistling-past-the-flophouse humor. Chaplin experienced dire poverty as a child, so the milieu isn't the product of idle speculation on his part: he knew all too well what hard-scrabble life was like. At any rate, repeated scrapes with cops suggest that our hero may not be out of jail for long, and when he bumps into a former cell-mate who recruits him to participate in a burglary we get the sinking feeling that Charlie is doomed.

As soon as the burglary is underway we recognize that Charlie has been a criminal out of necessity, not from any natural aptitude for crime; that is to say, he is the most inept burglar imaginable, unable to pry open windows, sure to knock furniture over with his cane, and inclined to take the least valuable items in the household. The young woman on the premises (Charlie's perennial leading lady Edna Purviance) confronts the thieves, but Charlie shows us what he's really made of when his partner attempts to get rough with her, and he immediately acts as her protector. While the ending isn't exactly a happy one, we are left with some hope for his redemption.

This was Chaplin's last official release produced for the Essanay company, although his former employers later cobbled together a short they called 'Triple Trouble' out of scraps and outtakes from various unfinished works, over his protests. Meanwhile however, after he completed this film Chaplin went to the Lone Star Studio to make some of his greatest short films for release by the Mutual company. But 'Police' can hold its own alongside the Mutual series, and ranks with Chaplin's best work from this early period. Unlike most of his Keystone comedies and some of the earlier, slapstick-y and disjointed Essanays, this film requires no special patience or tolerance to watch: it's a pleasure from beginning to end, beautifully photographed as well, and a fine introduction to its star for a newcomer to silent comedy who might wonder what Charlie Chaplin was all about.

Just a couple of years into his film career and, while Chaplin had already come a long way since his first outings, he was still far from the finished article. In this film he's both villain and victim: an ex-con who is immediately fleeced by a fake preacher upon his release from prison and then teams up with an old cell mate to rob the house of Edna Purviance and her sick old mum.

The film's OK, but it's nothing great and, while it amuses for most of it's running time - apart from the last five minutes when things start to become a little flat - it doesn't raise any real belly laughs. Chaplin would get much better.

One of my favorite things about watching these old short comedies that Chaplin was making before he really understood what his own message was is to watch the development not only of his style and on screen talent but also the development of his understanding of his audience. The tramp is the cinema's most famous everyman, and as far as I know this is his most criminal outing yet.

The movie opens with him being released from jail and immediately two things happen: first he is swindled by someone claiming to be trying to get him on the right path, and second, he stumbles across a drunk with a nice gold watch hanging from his vest, begging to be stolen. He fumbles with it a bit, but never once indicates that the thought of stealing it ever enters his mind, even though he could easily get away with it.

But before you go thinking that the tramp was just in the wrong place at the wrong time when he was convicted of whatever crime he was just released from prison for, he immediately becomes involved in a plot to rob a wealthy mansion in cahoots with none other than his old cell-mate. Apparently he didn't learn his lesson so well!

Luckily, the tramp lives in a world where mansions are populated by his old pal Edna Purviance who, when bothered by the robbers intrusion, calls the police, who are so indifferent to the emergency call that they hang out at the police station chatting and sipping drinks before responding.

In true Chaplin form, the tramp manages to win Edna's sympathy, and when the police finally arrive (in true Chief Wiggam form, as it were), he convinces them that he is her husband, and the tramp cheerfully enjoys a quick smoke with the three officers, tapping ashes into one of their hands on the way out, just as the one officer who knows what's going on arrives and throws himself against the door.

The tramp has already slammed the door shut by this point, so he casually drop kicks his cigar as only Chaplin can and relishes in the fact that he has won. The unpleasantness that is sure to follow is unimportant, because soon Charlie falls in love and learns that there are more important things in life than robbing people. This is also one of the earliest films where Chaplin so clearly illustrates his almost Robin Hood-like contempt for the police's oppression of the people. Great stuff!

With this picture Charlie Chaplin ended his fruitful tenure at Essanay. While he had produced a handful of better shorts in that period, Police does show off everything he had developed and perfected during his time at the studio. So let's recap with Charlie.

The first thing that is very evident is Chaplin's confidence in his own material. In contrast to the high-speed slapstick that made up virtually all silent comedy up to this point, Police contains lots of slow and subtle visual gags that rely upon the audience's ability to relate to the situations and pay attention to detail. So we get moments like Charlie drying his eyes on the preacher's beard, or getting into the habit of patting his pockets for change every time someone offers to help him go straight. The sedate pace of the bulk of the picture means that when we do get a bit of fast-paced action it has more impact.

However, the clearest and perhaps the most important development Chaplin made at Essanay was the ability to create stories. His first few Essanay pictures don't really have plots, and are just half an hour of antics based around a single location. With Police there is a well-defined structure, and this is probably the strongest and most carefully balanced story he has made so far. There is a consistent theme of Charlie trying to give up crime, and this is set up in the first scene and resolved in the last one. The love angle with Edna Purviance is also neatly established, with them running into each other part way through the burglary, and their relationship built-up and woven into the redemption idea. Perhaps this all sounds a bit high-minded for a comedy, but it is important because it helps the audience connect to the character and gives the jokes a bigger pay-off.

Ever the pragmatist, Chaplin would soon be lured to Mutual studios with the promise of a higher salary. At Mutual he would make what are generally agreed to be his finest short features. Still, his Essanay output, while very much the product of a learning phase, is full of fun and funniness, and the first time the world got to see the little tramp really flourish.

But that's not all; there's still the all-important statistic –

Number of kicks up the arse: 6 (2 for, 1 against)