The Next Picture Show

This is the second in an occasional series looking at great movie endings. Spoilers, obviously, follow.

Charlie Chaplin was the world’s most famous film director in 1931, the year City Lights, his best film, was released. So famous was he, and so much power he wielded, that he was able to release a non-talking picture years into the sound era.

Chaplin and others were reportedly nervous about City Lights‘ prospects. In retrospect, there was more than competition with talkies to be nervous about. Movies were becoming more spectacular and getting more violent (The Public Enemy), scarier (Dracula, Frankenstein) and dramatic (The Champ). When it came to comedy, Groucho Marx was talking a mile a minute in Monkey Business, while Chico shot the piano keys and mined laughs out of his faux Italian accent. Harpo, of course, was silent but his antics were lightning-fast compared to the silent clowns.

Dracula, Frankenstein and The Public Enemy are great, groundbreaking movies, whose influence can still be felt today. And I absolutely worship the Marx Brothers. But the dialogue-free City Lights was by far the best movie released in 1931. The County Theatre in Doylestown, Pa., is offering film lovers a chance to see it on the big screen July 13 as part of its Hollywood Summer Nights series.

See it for the hilarious set pieces like the opening scene of Chaplin’s Tramp getting caught in the middle of a statue’s dedication or his saving an eccentric millionaire (played by Harry Myers) from a suicide attempt. City Lights also makes a comment about wealthy people living large while others suffer that resonates during these troubling economic times (Chaplin’s following film, Modern Times, is even more powerful in this area).

But more than anything, there’s that ending. Those comedy bits could make up a few short films, but are held together by a story involving the Tramp’s crush on a blind flower girl (Virginia Cherrill) who believes he’s rich (how she comes to think that is a small marvel by Chaplin, the writer and director). After the Tramp reads a newspaper report about a new, expensive operation that can bring eyesight to the blind, he becomes determined to raise the money and help the girl gain her vision.

The Tramp’s relationship with the wealthy man is up and down, when the rich guy is drunk, he loves the Tramp. After sobering up, he orders the butler to kick the little fellow to the curb. Chaplin finally wrestles the money from his on-and-off friend, but ends up in jail for doing so before the blind girl ever sees his face.

Months later, the Tramp is out of jail, looking poorer and more beat up than ever. Everyone laughs at him, including the flower girl, who now can see and owns a flower shop. “I’ve made a conquest,” she tells a co-worker as the Tramp looks lovingly at her through the store window.

She goes outside to bring him a flower. He shies away but she calls him over and as she touches his hand she realizes he’s the man who paid for her operation. As you watch, notice her confusion and Chaplin’s pure happiness over his loved one’s success. It’s an absolute wonder and no love story has ever ended with more emotional joy.

A running gag of Chaplin’s Tramp character is his efforts to look dignified under very silly conditions. He’d straighten his bowler hat and his tie while everything else about him was a mess or he’d look snootily at someone higher in society than he. Remember the shoe-eating scene in The Gold Rush? Chaplin delicately removes a fleck of dirt from a plate before serving the boiled footwear, then twirls the shoelace, spaghetti-like, with finesse. In City Lights we learn why this lowly character demands respect.

By God, he’s earned it.

City Lights is at The County Theatre, 20 E. State St., Doylestown, Pa., July 13, 7 p.m. Admission costs $8.75, $6.75 seniors/children; 215-345-6789; www.countytheater.org