Chaplin

If I’m not familiar with the subject of a biopic, one of the markers of quality I look for is if the movie makes me want to learn more about the subject or if I feel satisfied with what I got in the movie. Chaplin definitely made me feel the former, even if the movie wasn’t always spot on as a movie. The acting is absolutely fantastic here, and there’s quite the cast. All sorts of actors pop in for short roles, and do a great job with what they have. But the movie really is all about one person, and everybody else just orbits around him. Robert Downey Jr. disappears into the role, to no surprise. He owns the movie and conducts the cast around him like an orchestra. The direction is a little overwrought in places, but for the most part, well done. The use of wipes is a nice touch, as it gives the movie a little nod to the days of classic Hollywood. And while I’m sure there’s some fudging of details or the timeline of history, to an unlearned eye, you wouldn’t know it. It fall feels smooth and natural, even when the melodrama seems to be being pumped up. The two big flaws are the length and the treatment of its subject. I can’t imagine what could be cut, but it does feel every bit of its 2 1/2 hour run time. It can struggle to keep up the energy as a result. But the bigger sin — not a fatal one, but one you can’t miss — is that Chaplin’s faults are never treated as such. He is a prototypical misunderstood genius (even when he’s being a cutthroat businessman and obstinate jerk), a hopeless romantic (even though almost all his wives hover around or under the age of 18, and the only ex he has anything nice to say about gets “she didn’t take me for a fortune”), and an under-appreciated legend (do I have to refute this?). It’s a little much and doesn’t do the man justice to portray him constantly in the most shining of lights. What you get in Chaplin is a rudimentary course in his life, portrayed by an amazing actor. It should whet your appetite to see Chaplin’s works and learn more about him, even with its flaws. It’s not perfect, and it’s quite formulaic, but hey … formulas become formulas for a reason. When they work, they work.