Charlot emigrante

One of Charlie Chaplin's many entertaining short features, "The Immigrant" is interesting for the great variety of slapstick skills that Chaplin shows off, plus a few touches of the kind of sensitive observations that would later be such a large part in his best films.

Charlie is one of a group of immigrants on a ship coming to America. The first part of the film takes place at sea, and is mostly simple slapstick centering on the rocky motion of the ship. After a brief scene where the immigrants are admitted to the USA, there is a scene in a restaurant that is one of the funniest in any of Chaplin's short comedies, combining some nicely-timed slapstick with a sympathetic awareness of the kinds of problems faced by someone just trying to get by in a strange and sometimes unfriendly land.

Chaplin fans will certainly want to see this one.

Chaplin plays an immigrant on a ship bound for America. While on the ship, he helps a fellow immigrant, Edna Purviance, whose mother had been robbed. Chaplin meets Purviance later at a restaurant where they are spotted by an artist who hires them to be models. Chaplin uses the advance to buy a wedding license.

"The Immigrant" is generally considered to be one of Chaplin's finest shorts. That is true. It is one of his funniest. However, I do not consider it as finely-crafted on the whole as many of the other Mutual films. "The Immigrant" feels like two separate one-reelers, featuring the some of the same characters, strung together. We have a shipboard reel and a restaurant reel. The only common characters from both segments are Chaplin and Purviance. (I don't count members of the stock company who appear in both segments as different characters.) There is no overarching plot combining the segments, and the film also suffers from the lack of a consistent heavy throughout. This weak story structure hampers the overall effectiveness of the short, but doesn't detract too much from comedy. The first segment has some of the more elaborate gags, like eating dinner on the wave-tossed ship, but I prefer the more subtle humor of the second half as Chaplin tries to figure out how to avoid the wrath of his tough waiter when he discovers he doesn't have any money to pay for his meal.

Much political hay is made of Chaplin kicking the immigration officials after the ship passes the Statue of Liberty. Leftist supporters look at it as an early example of his "heroic" anti-totalitarian political sentiments, while critics take it as a nasty, early anti-American statement. I believe both groups are guilty of wrongly transposing the political sensibilities of the late-forties and early- fifties back into the teens. Robinson's excellent book "Chaplin: His Life and Art" thoroughly examines the issue and shows that Chaplin intended no political message. (Write something like that on the Chaplin newsgroup and watch people argue for months!)

Charlie, however, would have plenty of time for politics later!

The Immigrant is one of Chaplin's early short films, with a very simple story but Chaplin makes it work. The thing that makes this early short film work so well is Chaplin's skill at slapstick comedy, it's so much fun to watch him try to deal with these endless predicaments that he gets into that you don't even pay attention to the simplicity of the story.

The majority of Chaplin's early films, particularly the short films like The Immigrant, are little more than brief comedy skits. But the value here does not lie in the story of the film, it lies in seeing how well Chaplin fits the role and how entertaining it is, even by todays standards, to watch his face as he realizes that he has dropped his money, after watching a man get beaten up for being ten cents short. The Immigrant is a classic because it is a Charlie Chaplin film, and really for no other reason. Chaplin makes it work, and he does it extremely well.

This legendary comedy stands as one of Charlie Chaplin's great achievements, a seamless blend of humor, romance, suspense and social commentary, all packed into an 18-minute running time! It's especially impressive when you consider that only three years earlier Chaplin was a complete novice at movie making, cranking out reels of often crude and chaotic slapstick for Mack Sennett. But in The Immigrant, Chaplin displays a self-assured command of contemporary film-making skills (i.e. cinematography, editing, and basic story structure) equal or superior to that of the era's top directors. Most impressive of all is Charlie himself: his iconic character is in full bloom, fresh and funny and full of life. He's a marvel, and a joy to watch.

The first half of this film is set on the sort of beat-up, wildly rocking cattle boat that served as passage to America for an entire generation of immigrants in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and it's certain that many of the people who saw The Immigrant when it was new could relate to the experience first-hand. Charlie is one of a large group of voyagers, seemingly of Eastern European origin (although this is never specified) emigrating to the United States. Some viewers may find the humor in these scenes vulgar, what with the relentless sea-sickness motif. The very first shot of the film suggests that Charlie is already suffering from a violent bout of mal-de-mere, although a surprise twist reveals we've jumped to the wrong conclusion. Whether you find these gags amusing or not, they're based on harsh reality only slightly exaggerated for comic effect; after all, before he was famous Chaplin himself came to America with the Fred Karno comedy troupe in a boat not unlike the one seen here, and his memory of that experience must still have been fresh -- unpleasantly so.

In any event, the highlights of the shipboard sequence include Charlie's attempts to navigate the slick floor of the dining hall, his meeting with Edna and her mother, and a game of cards with fellow passengers, including one burly guy with a very bad temper. The first half closes with one of Chaplin's most famous gags: as the immigrants get their first view of the Statue of Liberty the camera lingers for a moment on their expressions, at which point they are suddenly pushed back behind a rope line and then herded through customs like cattle by brusque, uniformed officials. As this takes place, Charlie sneaks a quick look back at the horizon, as if wondering whether Miss Liberty is really out there after all, and then he manages to give one of the rude officials a swift kick. A most satisfying moment, that.

The second half of The Immigrant takes place in a restaurant, and this sequence is a comic tour-de-force in and of itself. Charlie, hungry and broke, enters the restaurant thinking he has at least enough money to pay for an order of beans and a cup of coffee. When he realizes he's mistaken about his ability to pay, his prime objective is to escape the wrath of enormous waiter Eric Campbell, who is almost as menacing here as he was playing the bully in Easy Street. Campbell is a huge factor (so to speak) in making this sequence work so beautifully, as he had a knack for portraying comic villainy in a way that was both funny and genuinely frightening; Charlie's fear at what may happen if he fails to pay his check feels very believable. The many ingenious devices Charlie contrives to avoid facing the music make up the rest of the show, and as the suspense mounts the gags get funnier. (It was interesting to learn from the documentary "Unknown Chaplin" that this sequence was written and filmed first, and that the lead-in material on the boat was devised afterward.) It's in the restaurant that Charlie also reunites with his shipboard sweetheart Edna. Their relationship feels natural, touching, and real, and provides this wonderful comedy with an appropriately poignant finale.

In 1917, immigration in America lit the fire of a widespread xenophobic sentiment leading to the infamous "Immigration Act" that barred the road to such undesirables as "criminals", "anarchists", "homosexuals", "beggars" or "feeble-minded persons". In a fitting coincidence, the same year, Charles Chaplin made "The Immigrant", if not the best, the most prophetic of what would become one of Cinema's most valuable and influential talents.

Given the historical context of the "Immigration Act", one must wonder in which "category" the Tramp would have fallen had he existed: he's naive, quite atypical, broke, and the way he kicks one of Ellis Island's agents is such an equivocal image that it would be used by the HUAC to demonstrate Chaplin's Anti-Americanism. Yet the film doesn't make obvious statements regarding immigration: in the steamer that crosses the Atlantic in the beginning, there are pickpockets, gamblers and cheaters, probable criminals but there are also decent and honest people as well. And ultimately, there is the Tramp.

In simpler words, without immigration, the world wouldn't have discovered Charlie Chaplin, and that was enough a reason to make a film about the subject. "The Immigration" was Chaplin's first self-immersion into his own creations when the Tramp ceased to be a vagabond coming from nowhere and going anywhere, he and Chaplin would make one. It's a turning point in Chaplin's body of work as every film would echo a part of his own history. Yet, despite its serious undertones, the film is light-hearted not to deprive the theme from its gravity, but maybe because immigration carried positive feelings like ambition, solidarity and hope for brighter futures. "The Kid" would cover more solemn subjects.

"The Immigrant" is divided in two acts: the first is set in the ship, the second in a restaurant. Through a laudable effort of mise-en-scene and storytelling, Chaplin manages to pull these two parts together so they don't feel disjointed. The first sequence shows a steamer crossing the Atlantic, full of archetypal emigrants: bearded men with towering hats, and heads-carved women. It's moving as it depicts a part of America's history still recent at that time, and simultaneously, it creates a funny contrast with the moderately exotic Tramp: his presence among the immigrants is enough to bring the first laughs.

At the arrival in New York, the sight of the Statue of Liberty rewards the patience of these people who underwent persecutions, poverty, hunger and probably the worst of all, seasickness. The 'boat' part is the more emotionally and politically charged, and in its way, it elevates the film above the standards initially set by Chaplin. The Ellis Island part even reminds of "The Godfather Part II", without the sepia tones. Still, Chaplin knows that the audience expect laughs, that the transition between comedy and drama shall not be abrupt, hence the slapstick use of the boat's movements (that maybe inspired these Tex Avery gags where characters felt sick by watching a random sea-picture going up and down).

And this running gag foreshadows the use of moving objects in Chaplin's humor, from the blizzard blowing people away in "The Gold Rush", to the elevating chairs in "The Great Dictator". Other hints, more serious this time, of his later works are present through the character of the Girl (Edna Purviance) with her ill mother. The Tramp wins some money after a card game, and surreptitiously put his win in the girl's pocket, ignoring that it came from the man who stole her. This is the typical example of Chaplin's humanity: helping without expecting recognition; it's "City Lights". And naturally, it's the perfect plot device so that, victim of his own generosity, he arrives is New York, with a full heart and empty pockets.

The second part is more of a sketch, but this is not to diminish it. Chaplin goes to the restaurant, not noticing that the coin he found on the street went through the hole in his pocket. He meets the poor little immigrant who just lost her mother and to complete the picture, there is the big and burly waiter played by Eric Campbell, Chaplin's archenemy, in one of his last roles. Campbell is equal to Chaplin, almost stealing the show as the waiter who violently ejects a poor client short of 10 cents. The violence only serves the gags, when Chaplin realizes he doesn't have the money and tries to hide it from the waiter, watch the body language of the two actors, you could tell there was a great complicity between both. It's not only funny, but it's probably one of the few comedy moments relying on a form of thrilling suspense.

The ending is a bit rushed, but the essential was there, promising greater films to come. If not the best or the most memorable of his films, with its share of gags, and its serious undertones; it's one of Chaplin's most defining works, especially regarding the context of the film. 1917 wasn't only the year of the Immigration Act, it was the pinnacle of WWI, while the Bolshevik revolution planted the seeds of a New Order. Only a director like D.W. Griffith could embody the transformations that Modernity was applying to the world, in sweat, blood and tears. "The Immigrant" doesn't have the epic scope of "Intolerance", not even the pretension to compete with "The Birth of a Nation", but within its own simplicity, the film highlights the birth of a new talent, not of an actor, but of a director.

Indeed, if Charlie Chaplin is my favorite movie director, it's less because I believe he is the best, but because I believe his contribution to cinema as an artistic art form has never been equaled, not in his lifetime, not even after. The revolution he brought up in 1917 relies less on technicality than a particular skill in terms of storytelling in the way they vehicle a wide range of emotions in one single scene.