“Film is not my profession,” wrote Rossellini, “my profession is learning every day and describing incessantly: the human profession. And what is a human? An upright being that stands on its toes to see the universe.” As everybody knows, Chaplin did not talk much, or at least not enough for us, about his profession as a filmmaker. Some claim his reluctance to delve into the intricacies of creativity was a kind of superstition, others that it was related to his being first and foremost an instinctive director who built his films around an idea of “organic” rhythm and coherence, directing his actors as if they were an extension of his body. His archive, however, provides insight to all the rest: the urgency of an idea, the freedom and obstinacy of writing, the thoroughness of his choices. The archive’s scope is so vast in terms of content and value that it seems to extend infinitely, providing us with endless opportunities to discover new documents, like the extraordinary papers brimming with advice for Paulette Goddard (in shorthand and then transcribed) while directing the final scene of The Great Dictator. Our three events this year follow just as many itineraries indicated by this wonderful and copious archive.

CHARLIE’S FIRST SCRIPT

On November 11, 1938, the front page of The Times of London reported on the ‘Kristallnacht’: “No foreign propagandist bent upon blackening Germany before the world could outdo the tale of burnings and beatings, of blackguardly assaults on defenceless and innocent people, which disgraced that country yesterday”. On that very day, Chaplin developed a two-page draft of what was to become one of the most controversial and famous speeches in the history of cinema.
The Great Dictator marked an inevitable revolution in Chaplin’s working methods. Until then he had successfully eluded the straitjacket of a script, relying on his instinct for structure and an organic process of creation. But deciding that a talking picture had to have a script, he threw himself with great energy and originality into the process and turned out this monumental document.
The ratio of unused preparatory written material to the final script seems to parallel that between the overall footage shot (477,440 feet) and the footage used (11,625 feet).
Over three thousand pages of material were to result in a final script of 200 pages – itself exceptionally long by Hollywood standards.
This staggering amount of notes, story continuities and draft scripts produced between September 1938 and the start of showing on September 9, 1939 affords a unique insight into Chaplin’s creative methods.

David Robinson, Cecilia Cenciarelli

DOSSIER: EDDIE SUTHERLAND

The reputation of Eddie Sutherland rests upon the W.C. Fields and Mae West films he directed in the 30s. But he was yet another trained by Chaplin. He worked as his assistant
director on two seminal productions, A Woman of Paris and The Gold Rush and witnessed the production of Chaplin’s enigmatic The Professor. The documentation available in the Chaplin Archive confirms that Sutherland’s was the man who orchestrated the spectacular opening shot of The Gold Rush as well as for ‘planting’ the teetering cabin idea into Chaplin’s mind. Sutherland always acknowledged his debt to Chaplin, although one sees relatively little sign of it in his comedies. This dossier will examine his work – surprisingly successful at the box office, despite its relative lack of inspiration – through audio interviews, production stills, archival papers and extracts of films. The screening of two complete features It’s the Old Army Game (silent) and Diamond Jim (sound) will complete the dossier.

Kevin Brownlow, Cecilia Cenciarelli

SYD CHAPLIN, A BIOGRAPHY

Sydney John Chaplin (legally Hill) was born in London on March 16, 1885 to an unwed soubrette, Hannah Harriet Pedlingham Hill, who was to give birth to perhaps the most famous and successful film comedian in the world just four years later, Charlie. Much conjecture has been made about the relationship between these two brothers, but initially it seems to have been one of Sydney as loving caretaker and supporter of his younger sibling. But with fame for Charlie came complications for Sydney. Did he subsume his own ego and its needs in order to work towards what could be unparalleled success on the part of his brother? The short answer to that was “yes,” but Sydney’s competitive side could not long be quelled by his true affection for his brother and so he embarked on a film career of his own, making 37 films between 1914 and 1929. While he achieved real success in films such as Charley’s Aunt (1924) and The Better ‘Ole (1926), his career suffered major downturns, too, first in 1922 upon the release of his long overdue picture King, Queen, Joker—a major flop—and then in 1929 when he was blacklisted from the business after a debacle involving an actress and his then employer, British International Pictures. This enigmatic life is the subject of Syd Chaplin: A Biography.

Lisa Stein Haven

Section curated by Cecilia Cenciarelli