Charlot policeman

Charlie Chaplin remembered the rough and tumble neighborhoods he grew up in and the moral anchors the scattered Christian missionaries provided for the indigent residing in those rough boroughs of London.

He brings law and order into his January 1917's "Easy Street," in his attempt to tame those bullies he was so familiar with growing up. Chaplin, after attending a session at a missionary, decides on applying for a police position. Once he gets badged, he's patrolling one of the meanest streets in the city. Actor Eric Campbell's character is the toughest of a tough lot, to which Chaplin sets out involuntarily to control the beast. A street gas light proves to be the comedian's best weapon; it was while filming this scene the lamppost, bent in the middle, fell on Chaplin, requiring him to be rushed to the hospital.

Chaplin used the bookends of the missionaries, one in the beginning and another, a newly-constructed missionary in the tough neighborhood, to convey the movie's message. All the reformed neighborhood thugs, including Campbell, are dressed up to go to service. Here, Chaplin is making an overt statement on the power of redemption.

I've been a Chaplin fan since I was in grade school, and Easy Street was the movie that converted me for keeps. It wasn't the first of his films I saw, but once I'd seen it I knew that Charlie Chaplin was truly as great as his reputation proclaimed. He's wonderful here, at the peak of his powers, funny and moving and seemingly super-human, like some kind of cartoon dynamo. And today, more than 30 years since I first encountered it (and almost 90 years since it was made!) this is a film I could watch again anytime, not just because it's funny -- although it is -- but also for darker, more melancholy reasons. Easy Street is certainly a comedy, but it's no one's idea of a light-hearted romp: the humor in this story is rooted in poverty, violence and substance abuse, and unfortunately all of these things are just as relevant today as they were in 1917. It's well known that Chaplin grew up in dire poverty, and it's reasonable to assume that the squalid world of this ironically titled work is based on his childhood memories. This film stands as proof that the greatest comedy is born out of pain, and that's why I can return to it again and again, for although human suffering is always topical and always relevant, so is the urge to transcend suffering through humor. In this film Chaplin triumphs over the deprivations of his own childhood, and viewers can share in his triumph.

In the opening scene we find Charlie fallen on hard times, no longer the dapper Gentleman Tramp of earlier appearances but a real derelict, ragged, pale, and sleeping on the ground. He is drawn to a nearby mission by the sound of singing, joins the congregation and soon pledges to go straight; he even proves his conversion is genuine by pulling the collection box from his baggy pants and returning it to the startled minister. Before long Charlie has applied for the job of police officer in the roughest neighborhood imaginable, Easy Street, a slum ruled by an enormous bully, magnificently portrayed by actor Eric Campbell. The unfortunate Mr. Campbell, who would be killed in a car accident less than a year after giving this performance, deserves a belated nod of respect for making Easy Street such a memorable experience. Although clearly intended as a comic caricature, Campbell's nameless bully is nonetheless a formidable figure, a mighty beast with a shaved head and heavy eyebrows, and the close-ups that reveal Campbell's stage makeup do nothing to diminish his powerful aura.

The film's most unforgettable sequence comes when Officer Charlie, dressed in a Keystone Cop style uniform as he nervously walks his beat for the first time, suddenly comes face-to-face with Campbell, an ogre several times his size. The scene is filmed in a single lengthy take, beginning with a tracking shot as Charlie strolls down the sidewalk, encounters the bully, and then tries to stand up to him. The bully, who appears to be made of granite, becomes increasingly sure of himself as Charlie falters. When Charlie finally resorts to clubbing him over the head, the blows have no effect whatever; in fact, the bully impassively offers his head for more clubbing, just to demonstrate how little it bothers him. Charlie tries to flee, but the bully yanks him back and starts toying with him, like a cat tormenting a mouse before moving in for the kill. Scary, right? Well it's funny in the movie, but scary too, and it comes as a relief when Charlie (in an iconic moment as familiar as Harold Lloyd dangling from the clock) resourcefully uses a nearby gas lamp to subdue the bully -- temporarily, anyway.

While the scenes with Campbell are moments to savor, there are also a number of low-key sequences involving the lady from the mission, played by Chaplin's perennial leading lady Edna Purviance, and during these scenes we get a vivid picture of life on Easy Street. Edna takes Charlie to a flat full of kids whose exhausted-looking parents obviously can't cope. Charlie, impressed with the scrawny Dad's ability to father so many children, quietly pins his own badge on the man's chest. It's a sadly funny moment, but the larger picture is bleak, and before the story is over we've been presented with images of domestic abuse and drug addiction. None of this material is prettified or sentimentalized in the "Hollywood" manner; this looks more like newsreel footage, and some viewers may well find it depressing. Easy Street is no stroll in the park, but somehow Chaplin is able to leave us on a note of hope, even while making it clear (with one last gag involving the reformed bully and his wife) that he's fully aware of the wishful thinking involved. Still, it's a beautiful ending to a great movie, one that demonstrates Chaplin's artistry as beautifully as any short film he ever made.

"Easy Street" is unsurpassed among Chaplin's short comedies, an extremely funny film that also has depth and sensitivity. The combination is done especially well here. Charlie plays a tramp who has a religious experience, becomes a policeman, and tries to clean up the violence and crime on "Easy Street". He tries to help the many poor of the neighborhood, while combating the street's toughs, leading to some memorable confrontations with burly villain Eric Campbell. There is some terrific slapstick interspersed with some compassionate scenes of the effects of poverty and crime on the innocents of the area. Chaplin uses a lot of his comic talent and a good variety of gags, and combines it with some thoughtful portrayals of life.

This is Chaplin at his best, and it is as good as any of his many short films. It will be a favorite for most Chaplin fans, and a good place to start for those wanting to take a look at his short features.

Entertaining, but not among Chaplin's best.

Interesting plot: the Tramp becomes a policeman! (It could happen...). From here many adventures ensue.

Has the usual Chaplin slapstick and sight gags but also has some darker themes: bullying, abuse of power, power-madness, instant fame and even drug abuse (though here it appears more of an advert for drugs - it was 1917 I guess, so they didn't know better).

However, it is not as powerful, clever or laugh-a-minute as Chaplin's later stuff. Chaplin's gags seem less well thought-out and more about cheap laughs here. I guess he was still honing his craft and exploring his own boundaries.

Good performances. Eric Campbell is scary as the bully, he of the fearsome eyebrows.

I liked "Easy Street" better than "The Cure", and I watched them back to back. There were actually some laughs in this one. I tuned out toward the end and apparently missed something to do with a drug addict and Charlie sitting on a needle. These movies are too fast paced for my modern attention span.

It has a couple of memorable moments: the bully bends a lamp-post in half with his massive strength, so Charlie puts the lamp over his head and turns the gas up to anaesthetize him. After this, there's another memorable sight gag: every time he turns his back, he gets swarmed by the riff-raff of Easy street, but when he turns to face them, they immediately disperse.

It's pretty amusing but I could never imagine finding myself in stitches at one of these movies. I think humour has changed. There, I said it.