T. It.: La Febbre Dell’oro; Sog., Scen. E Mo.: Charles Chaplin; F.: Roland Totheroh; Scgf.: Charles D. Hall; Mu.: Carli Elinor, Max Terr, Gerard Carbonara, Charles Chaplin; Int.: Charles Chaplin (Cercatore D’oro), Georgia Hale (Georgia), Mack Swain (Big Jim Mckay), Tom Murray (Black Larson), Betty Morrissey, Kay Desleys, Joan Lowell (Amiche Di Georgia), Henry Bergman (Hank Curtis), Malcolm Waite (Jack Cameron), John Rand, Heinie Conklin, Albert Austin, Allan Garcia, Tom Wood (Cercatori); Prod.: Charles Chaplin Per United Artists; Pri. Pro.: Hollywood, 26 Giugno 1925; 35mm. L.: 2400 M. D.: 87′ A 24 F/S. Bn.
“This is one of the most beautiful films of all time, it’s a poetic piece and thus complete in and of itself, perfect. It was born a silent film and must remain so. From a commercial point of view perhaps we could put up with music, considering that all silent films were screened accompanied by the traditional piano, but spoken narration is truly unacceptable. We manage to ignore it thanks only to this film’s intrinsic value, which, along with The Circus, is the most complete synthesis of Chaplin’s art. This piece has been discussed at length and thus it’s sufficient to say that an old impression is confirmed: herein Chaplin reaches not only his usual psychological unity but also an incredible plasticity. The enemy of all traditional conformity has composed a discrete, sober symphony in black and white, which, from the line of prospectors on the mountain, to the silhouette of the mime in the storm, to the wonderful arabesque of the slashed cushion, further strengthens the extraordinary clarity of emotions. The ending is extraneous, but so is the Little Tramp’s state of human solitude”.
Michelangelo Antonioni, “L’Italia libera”, 6 August 1944