The Gold Rush
Directed by Charles Chaplin
Written by Charles Chaplin
Starring: Charles Chaplin, Mack Swain, Tom Murray, Georgia Hale

Criterion’s Chaplin collection continues to grow with the release of his 1925 classic comedy The Gold Rush. The disc contains both the original silent release and the definitive 1942 version of the film, both of which have been given a full HD restoration. As for the movie itself, The Gold Rush is a timeless comedic masterpiece with a lot of heart and some wonderful examples of early visual effects.

The film opens with a magnificent shot of hundreds of people traversing the Chilkoot Pass, ascending the snow covered mountainside in an epic wide shot that brings to mind the open sequence of Werner Herzog’s Aguirre: The Wrath of God. This is one of many visually arresting images throughout the film, much of which were accomplished using early in-camera visual effects that were state of the art at the time. One scene sees the Tramp walking precariously along the edge of a steep mountainside, seemingly inches away from a deadly drop. This effect was accomplished using a glass matte painting, similar to the roller skating sequence in Modern Times. It’s extremely effective and brilliantly achieved. Chaplin utilizes these set pieces to create a brand of physical comedy that’s timeless. The humour is drawn from universal, broad characterizations and gestures that still work thanks to the cartoon nature of the universe in which these films take place. Much like the Looney Tunes cartoons, the visceral nature of this sort of physical comedy transcends the topical, pop culture laden humour that drives most modern day comedies. Watching how quickly we worship and subsequently discard our comedic performers nowadays makes you appreciate Chaplin’s long life as a celebrated and treasured staple of the genre.

The 1942 version of The Gold Rush is considered the ‘definitive’ version by Chaplin himself. A brand new score was written and a narration provided by Chaplin, hoping to introduce the film to a new audience and overcome the immediate disregard of silent cinema in the 30’s. The intertitles are gone and the film was simplified, coming in at a tight 72 minutes. This cut was reintroduced to the public with great success. It’s almost an early example of the same brand of post-release tinkering that’s become controversial thanks to people like George Lucas, Ridley Scott and James Cameron. In this case, the 1942 version was embraced by both the director and cinema history, as it was the only available cut up until 1993 when the silent version of The Gold Rush was reconstructed. Chaplin’s cuts — along with running the footage at an appropriate frame rate — brought the run time down by around fifteen minutes. It’s a streamlined narrative compared to the original. I think the changes work, but I must admit that the narration might be a bit on the nose and guilty of over explaining and undermining some of the otherwise subtle moments. However, I do prefer the ambiguous, not-so-happy ending of the 1942 version. It celebrates the idea of this one-sided romance as the Tramp lives in ignorant bliss believing that the woman he’s fallen for shares the same feelings.

I love the art direction of the sets, which embraces an artificiality that heightens the cartoonish sensibilities of Chaplin’s comedic vignettes. The design of the buildings and the painted backdrops of the snow-topped mountains reminds me — again — of the cartoon backgrounds in early Looney Tunes shorts. The cabin in which The Tramp seeks shelter in the first act is designed to maximize comedic possibilities, with every prop and piece of furniture incorporated with a visual gag in mind. It makes me wonder about Chaplin’s process and whether or not such rich locations inspired on-set improvisation. Of course you can’t talk about The Gold Rush without mentioning the infamous shoe eating sequence. It’s a gag that’s handled with unbelievable subtlety and is mostly effective thanks to Chaplin’s ability to sell this desperate meal as a feast, twirling the shoelace like spaghetti and sucking on the tacks like chicken bones. By the end, the meal doesn’t look half bad. No wonder Werner Herzog was inspired to eat his own shoe. The film contains a few other signature moments including the dinner role dance scene and the cabin teetering on the edge of a cliff. The Gold Rush is another one of those films that has been seen in bits and pieces by most people, whether directly or through some sort of cultural reference (i.e. The Simpsons).

The Gold Rush looks nearly as good as Criterion’s previous Chaplin releases. As mentioned previously, the two versions of the film are included on the disc and they both look great (although it should be noted that I watched Chaplin’s preferred 1942 version for this review). The disc contains some great documentaries, including a look at the early visual effects on display in the film. Another feature traces the history of the film and the process of restoring the original 1925 version. It’s a great resource for those curious about the various differences between the two cuts and what Chaplin’s motivations were for tinkering with his film. The disc includes some additional documentaries, four trailers and an audio commentary by Chaplin biographer Jeffrey Vance. Overall it’s a great set of supplements that nicely compliment this classic piece of cinema that still holds up almost ninety years later. A must own for all film fans! — Jay C.

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