by Douglas Messerli
Vincent Bryan, Charles Chaplin, and Maverick Terrell
(screenwriters), Charles Chaplin (director) The Cure / 1917
Somewhat like the figure played by
Harpo Marx in the 1930s, Chaplin’s The Little Tramp of the teens occasionally
displays significant bisexual interest, particularly when he mistakenly
believes another male is flirting with him or when he believes women are asking
him to engage with another man in physical manner.
In The Cure, for example, Chaplin’s character has checked into
hydropathic hotel in order to “dry out,” and after a series of drunken
maneuvers such as his inability to enter the center through its revolving door
and other pratfall actions which results in the immediate enmity of a gout-stricken
sanitarium guest (Eric Campbell) whose bandaged foot he not only steps on by
catches up his revolving door frenzy, he his taken by a sanitarium attendant
(Albert Austin) to enjoy the natural waters.
Seated between a children’s nurse and the attendant, Charlie is offered
time and again a cup of the water which he accidentally spills out, seemingly
by purpose, like the later comedian W. C. Fields, refusing to let water touch
his lips.
As the bearded man attempts to openly
flirt with the girl, the tramp, thinking his attentions are meant for him,
reacts in kind, flirting back at him and finally throwing up a leg in girlish
delight which of course comes down on the man’s bandaged foot once again.
Outraged, the man rises, attempting to
sit on the other side of the woven cane settee at the very same moment when
Chaplin stands and turns it around, sending the large, bearded man to the
ground, an act that almost gets our friend thrown out of the hotel.
Such willingness to please whoever
might be demonstrating any pleasure in him—a rare situation for the Tramp—is
displayed at several moments in his short films, generally getting him, through
his momentarily sexual confusion, into even further trouble much like Harpo’s
more physical attraction to both female and male legs is a source of constant
rejection and disdain. Even before the Tramp, in George Nichols 1914 short The
Film Johnnie, Chaplin’s display of such sexual pliability causes further
problems for his character who, just for a moment mistakes the gestures of
another male movie-goer as being meant as a come-on.
If nothing else the sexual shifts of
Chaplin in these instances, suggests not only an attempt to please but a naive
confusion of his own proper gender behavior.
As for the rest of The Cure,
Chaplin, as expected, brings chaos to the place by carrying along a huge
portmanteau filled with enough bottles of liquor that when they are later
discovered by the sanitarium manager, who orders them to be thrown away, they
change the magic waters of the small hotel drinking pool into a festive punch
bowl for the patrons who regularly come there to drink. By the time the Tramp
returns to the lobby, he discovers that he is the only sober person in a mass
of drunken dancers and revelers. The normally dour sanitarium folk have all
been turned into rowdy celebrants, one man seen chasing after another for no
other purpose, it appears, but to capture him and reward him a kiss, hug, or
perhaps even more. Having been ordered to drink of the pool’s healing waters,
who can blame the Tramp for joining in the fun?
Clearly the girl can and does. But when she discovers that the pool has
been polluted by alcohol, she forgives him and he, having once more fallen into
normative heterosexual love, abstains from further drinking—at least
temporarily.
Los Angeles, September 4, 2022
Reprinted from World Cinema
Review (September 2022).
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