Sidewalk Stories

Our protagonist is resourceful, tenderhearted, homeless. He finds himself with a baby, someone else's, and suddenly his life shifts focus. The child, thankfully, does not redeem the main character whose actions are a natural extension of who he is-a nameless person. Without home and name doesn't mean without personality, and a life, and the instinct for survival. The main character suddenly has to be concerned for someone other than himself, and this is the charm of the film, charm without sentimentality.

This is an intriguing contrast of the humorous set against the plight of the homeless in NYC; it works, partly because it is so outrageous and comic in its implementation-e.g. the conflict with the other street artist, the use of the bathtub. A gentle, good film whose final moments still resonate in the mind, not because of their greatness, but because of the unexpected but successful shift in focus and technique. It achieves.

Charles Lane as writer, director, and main character has done a very fine job in three areas, none suffering because of the others.

Never heard of it until I saw it on a classic movie channel in September 2020. I was drawn in and followed it to the end. Even if you're not a fan of silents this was a good one.

An artist (Charles Lane) does portraits and sells his paintings on the streets. He lives in an abandoned apartment. He comes upon a murdered man and finds the man's baby. He reluctantly takes care of the little girl.

This is a black and white silent film set in the modern day New York City. Its sensibilities is mostly set in the silent film era. Charles Lane is the star and the filmmaker. He seems to be doing Chaplin and the Kid but with a modern black man and without the slapstick. It is a bit long. The old silent films are usually an hour. It probably does need the dialog text which is missing here. All in all, it's an intriguing black indie.

It takes a lot of nerve to update a classic silent comedy, and do it again as a silent film, but that's the idea behind this Reagan-era remake of the 1921 Chaplin comedy 'The Kid'. Writer/producer/director Charles Lane himself takes the Little Tramp role, playing a homeless New York City street artist who reluctantly adopts an abandoned toddler (in real life Lane's own daughter). Both have big shoes to fill, Lane most of all because, unlike Chaplin, he isn't exactly a creative genius, and his attempts at visual comedy are never more than mildly amusing, at best.

But silence is golden, and more to the point for a struggling independent filmmaker, it can be economical as well. By muting the voices on screen Lane succeeds in muting the harsh impact of poverty, bringing some charm to what could have been a merely depressing backdrop. So why introduce the panhandler's begging voices in the final scene, when their faces alone would have been eloquent enough? It amounts to thematic overkill in an otherwise engaging novelty (if not much else), with a likable underdog as its director and star.

Going silent (or almost entirely silent) was an outstanding choice by Charles Lane, and his film feels like an homage to Chaplin in its humor and humanism. In updating the tramp character to a homeless person of color, he seems to ask mainstream audiences to remember a time when so many more were destitute, and to suspend our tendency to judge in favor of empathizing. He also inverts the 'get rich quick by meeting a rich man' theme from Depression era films by having a female shop owner be the wealthy one and love interest. Most of all, he makes a film that's touching and funny.

Not hearing these characters (or even seeing intertitles) in no way took away from the ability to tell the story, and ironically it made me connect to them more deeply. I should say, not hearing them until the very end, when hearing a few plaintive requests for help hits like an emotional ton of bricks. Nicole Alysia is adorable as the little kid, Charles Lane is heartfelt as the struggling street artist, and Sandye Wilson is compelling as the business woman whose heart is as big as her right cross. How did Charles Lane not get more opportunities after creating this film, even if 'True Identity' was a bust? How did Sandye Wilson never appear in a feature film again?