I'm going to do my write up and leave it because I won't have time until tomorrow night, and I hope this will enable us to move things along.
He is without a doubt all of us and none of us, said Walter Kerr. Chaplin's The Tramp is the greatest character in film history, and City Lights is the most profound and moving role for The Tramp.
It's a simple narrative: poor man is mistaken for a rich man by a blind flower girl. He falls in love with her immediately, and during the course of the film, the Tramp becomes exactly what she believes he could be--her salvation. The film consists of a series of set pieces in which the Tramp becomes a sanitation worker, a boxer, the close friend of a drunken millionaire who only recognizes the Tramp when he is drunk (when sober he can't recall him), a prisoner, and a hero. The Tramp wants simply to pay for an operation to restore her sight, which he manages to do, but which results in his imprisionment. The flower girl's eyesight has been restored, she opens a flower shop, and awaits the day when she will see her mystery benefactor, the rich man who paid for her operation. At the end of the movie, she finally has the chance to see him:
The Tramp, just released from prison, can barely summon the energy to resist the two newsboys who have teased him throughout the film. Still, he insists upon his dignity as a human being, chasing the boys away. (Note how carefully he folds the tattered (underwear) into a handkerchief.) He stops to pick up a flower from the gutter, turns, and sees her. She laughs at him, but it's without cruelty, as evidenced by her reaching out to him. She shows compassion, giving him a flower and a coin. She takes his hand and knows. But what exactly does she know? And what does the Tramp know?
He knows that he stands revealed for what he is before her. He's not good enough. But she draws his hand towards her. He smiles, but it's a hesitant, embarrassed smile. He doesn't know what to say, so he states the obvious as a question. She says she can see. Some have called these title cards completely unnecessary, but I don't think so. Language fails for the Tramp as it does for the flower girl. But language has never been part of the Tramp's arsenal.
Does she really see the man who loves her? The final close up, the greatest ending in film history, the Tramp's smile, his hand covering his mouth in shame, his eyes raised in hope and expectation, is meant for the viewer. It's not from her point of view.
What do we make of the ending? The Tramp stands naked before us and asks us to accept him for who he is. He asks us to accept ourselves in the same way. What do we deserve? Can we be loved? Can we be seen?
I will only say that this is the only film I have shown my classes over the years for which I keep the lights dimmed after the film ends. The Tramp, who is all of us and none of us, is the greatest character in film history.
It seems fitting, to me, that I pick the best character ever and it comes from a Western. A man that we all wish we were able to be but can’t be because we are all cowards. A man that we all are underneath, if we look honestly at ourselves in the mirror, and realize what we are when the thin veneer of civilization is stripped from our skin. That is why despite all, he is the most loveable character of this movie. We all wish to be Tuco. But we fall short. Most anyway.
Also please note, a disproportionate number of the world’s strikingly beautiful women are from Hong Kong, and the most striking of the striking seem to appear WKW films.
..........snip......
Hong Kong is where I plan to head very soon with the above statement one main allure. If I die there, like Bierce did in Mexico, that will be OK, more glamourous also. Someday, when I write up my memoirs, if I live long enough, the interesting encounter I had one night in Taipei with lovely beauties and their gang protectors would be a lovely plug for the book. The film will be released posthumously, I'm thinking. Perhaps Wong Kar-Wai will take it on.
I have some great Hong Kong stories from my youth. I don't think I want them floating around the Internet however. Plus I've lost my ability to spin yarns.
Character: Jack Burton
Movie: Big Trouble in Little China
Portrayed by: Kurt Russell
Jack Burton is easily my all-time favorite movie character. He is brash, he is bold, he is sort of a goof. He probably has the most entertaining dialog of any character I can think of. Kurt Russell does an outstanding job of bringing this character to life. Every time I watch this movie I get a goofy grin on my face that lasts well past the ending just relishing in all of the Jack Burton goodness.
Holy dog ****. Texas? Only steers and queers come from Texas, Private Cowboy. And you don't look much like a steer to me so that kinda narrows it down. Do you suck dicks?
I'll bet you're the kind of guy that would **** a person in the ass and not even have the goddam common courtesy to give him a reach-around.
Whenever I'm in a bad mood or funk and need a good hearty laugh I put on only 1 movie. The first 45 minutes of this movie are the highest of high comedy for me due solely to this man:
Arguably the greatest, and most realistic, love story every caught on film (although to be honest I don't think it is much of an argument). The Before Trilogy follows these characters from young adulthood to middle age, allowing us to catch up every 10 years with Jesse and Céline.
They are in every frame of the film and the entire series is about their relationship. While technically two characters, the series is really about them becoming one while remaining individuals.
Before Sunset is my favorite film of all time and the other two are on my top 20. No other series has effected my life more. I know as much about these two characters as I do my dearest friends. I also long for their return every 10 years and feel a real sense of missing them in the gaps. I cannot say the same of any other characters ever caught on film.
Here are few of their most memorable moments. The standard spoiler warning applies.
Before Sunset
Before Sunset
Before Midnight
Spoiler warning, these films may come up one more time as I draft.
Arguably the greatest, and most realistic, love story every caught on film (although to be honest I don't think it is much of an argument). The Before Trilogy follows these characters from young adulthood to middle age, allowing us to catch up every 10 years with Jesse and Céline.
They are in every frame of the film and the entire series is about their relationship. While technically two characters, the series is really about them becoming one while remaining individuals.
Before Sunset is my favorite film of all time and the other two are on my top 20. No other series has effected my life more. I know as much about these two characters as I do my dearest friends. I also long for their return every 10 years and feel a real sense of missing them in the gaps. I cannot say the same of any other characters ever caught on film.
Here are few of their most memorable moments. The standard spoiler warning applies.
For my first pick I choose Chance the Gardner, as played by Peter Sellers, in "Being There".
Chance is a dharmic golem, open to the entire universe, taking in strands of consciousness, and allowing them to become manifest through his realization...but only when filtered through a cathode ray tube.
There are similar characters to be found in cinema, the slow and semi-******ed anti-antihero, from the tragic UNDRAFTED, less stupid than weak (to paraphrase his brother), amplified by a painful self-awareness, to the criminally mishandled UNDRAFTED (read the book), who drew his strength from the Occam's Razor linearity that some mistook for simple-mindedness, and remained impervious (or oblivious) to the nut punches that reality deals to those around them.
But Chance, sheltered by a wealthy patron from the outside world since birth and focused on the single discipline of gardening during the day, is allowed to live his "real" life through the television broadcasts he watches constantly, when not pruning trees and cutting vines.
He's a generalist, viewing everything from news to cartoons to documentaries to sit-coms. Even the commercials define his reality, with no hint of their mercenary intent.
When his boss passes away, he's forced out into a world that is jarringly different from his familiar reality. He deals with it in zen-like fashion, his first true moment of self-awareness coming when he sees himself on a store's closed-circuit television system.
Through a series of events, and through those with whom he interacts, the folly of bhava junkiedom is exposed for carrot-and-stick hustle it is.
I don't want to reveal too much, as part of the joy of the film is in how the character allows those around him to evolve.
It's a McCluhanesque satire, but works on multiple levels. If viewed with the kind of openness Peter Sellers said he had to achieve to bring Chance to life, it will continuously reveal. For all the seventies production clatter, it's a meditative study, as Chance,an archetype prophet, is less a character of depth than granular clarity. And the way Sellers brings him to life, bringing dimension to even the most subtle movement and expression, is stunning.