Limelight

he film, he portrays his declining career. The advent of sound in cinema and the studio system significantly harmed him, and on top of that, he unintentionally became a part of the country's dark propaganda, which caused him to lose his former fame. In the film, he expresses that his vaudeville life is coming to an end, and that new artists need to be given a chance, but he also confesses his love for the stage.

In playing Calvero, a once-great entertainer who’s fallen out of favor and into a bottle, Charlie Chaplin uses Limelight to toy with an autobiographical subject. Chaplin never had a documented substance problem - that was his father’s vice - but his sadness at becoming a relic, at losing the popular rapport that once came so easily, is clearly drawn from private wells. The character’s wallow in self-pity is short-lived, as he agrees to look after a fragile, suicidal ballet dancer, but the pathos remains. His new houseguest is in a difficult place, having lost faith in herself and the world around, and Calvero pounces upon the opportunity to help turn things around, hounding her with steady, uplifting arguments in favor of life. The unspoken question, then, is who he’s most trying to convince: the ballerina or himself. Limelight’s story is personal and meaningful in its best spots, but meandering and unfocused in its worst. As points are belabored and scenes virtually repeated, the plot telegraphs its intentions and then leaves us waiting. Chaplin shares a wonderful connection with costar Claire Bloom that can make the deliberate pace more tolerable. Even in early scenes, when she’s bed-ridden and down in the dumps, Bloom is graceful, warm and lovely. Her uncertain relationship with the much older man adds complexity to the mix, a verboten romance that tempts actor and audience alike. There’s a light in both stars’ eyes, when they’re together, that lacks in the surrounding scenes. While he struggles to find a rewarding new gig in the present, Calvero frequently daydreams about the past. These vaudeville throwbacks may seem like a great chance for fans to share one last ride with the aging master, but in fact, they’re among the film’s weakest segments. Chaplin is still in tune with his physical charms, a smoothness in action that belies his age, but the comedy is tedious and repetitive, lacking the creative spontaneity that made his two-reelers so irresistible. One exception there: a wordless, penultimate musical act with special guest Buster Keaton. This would prove to be the only time Chaplin and Keaton appeared together on film, and silent movie fans will find a special kind of magic in the belated partnership. I wish they’d done more together over the years, but I’m glad they did something at all. Neither Chaplin’s most profound, humorous, intriguing or engaging picture, Limelight does shed some melancholic light on the graying star’s attitude as he approached the end of the line. Charlie seemed content to coast off into an easygoing semi-retirement as a side attraction, enhancing other stars’ shine at the cost of his own, but America had different ideas. While in London to attend the film’s premiere, he was barred from re-entering the United States amidst accusations of Communist leanings. He wouldn’t return for another two decades.