When it comes to classic cinema and especially those often bunched into the "masterpiece" corner, you must prepare yourself when reading reviews for strong gusts of superlatives and overblown gushing over minute details. Your shining suit of scepticism should be worn at all times, weary traveller. Although a fun and enjoyable film, The Kid which has been met with steady and sustained acclaim since its debut in 1921, you could argue is a good example of such criticism gone awry. It's a sometimes-amusing and often-heart-warming feature, sure, but a masterpiece? Not so much. At least not for me. The comedy's plot which revolves around the Tramp adopting an abandoned orphan from infancy before fast-forwarding five years where they run a bit of a racket together, is light and fluffy and has a distinct charm permeating the interactions between the two actors.
But aside from a few sight gags and one touching piece of drama, there's not much else to be had from the experience and by the time it reaches the 40 minute mark, feels a bit winded. So much so that Chaplin tacks on a bizarre dream sequence seemingly to fill up some time. Critics often praise this scene as "out of the box" and "daring" and they're right. What they often overlook however is the fact that it's rather useless and superfluous to the already very little going on. It's no surprise to find out that The Kid came at a time when Chaplin was creatively bankrupt and had been so for quite some time. This scene in particular along with the more famous abduction scene are key examples of where film criticism seems ardently opposed to calling a good film a good film instead of throwing more unwarranted praise into an already overflowing river of rose-tinted admiration.
The abduction scene which I reference is great, yes, and rich in pathos, but claims of it being the most emotive scene in a comedy, nay film in general (yes this is claimed, believe it or not) are about as grounded as Chaplin's take on whether dogs go to heaven or not. The Kid is a lovely and charming miniature film with affecting performances resulting in some good laughs here and there that must have raised roofs in 1921, but that's it. Nothing else. Anybody who tells you there's more to it than that is probably just as likely to make an argument for swapping your mortgage in exchange for a 100- year-old bottle of wine. Because it's distinguished, it's cultured, it's a classic and you obviously just don't get the whole picture. Instead I'll let you in on a little secret. It's a good film as I've said, maybe even great, but it's certainly not the masterpiece it's so often regurgitated to be. Let's move on.
But aside from a few sight gags and one touching piece of drama, there's not much else to be had from the experience and by the time it reaches the 40 minute mark, feels a bit winded. So much so that Chaplin tacks on a bizarre dream sequence seemingly to fill up some time. Critics often praise this scene as "out of the box" and "daring" and they're right. What they often overlook however is the fact that it's rather useless and superfluous to the already very little going on. It's no surprise to find out that The Kid came at a time when Chaplin was creatively bankrupt and had been so for quite some time. This scene in particular along with the more famous abduction scene are key examples of where film criticism seems ardently opposed to calling a good film a good film instead of throwing more unwarranted praise into an already overflowing river of rose-tinted admiration.
The abduction scene which I reference is great, yes, and rich in pathos, but claims of it being the most emotive scene in a comedy, nay film in general (yes this is claimed, believe it or not) are about as grounded as Chaplin's take on whether dogs go to heaven or not. The Kid is a lovely and charming miniature film with affecting performances resulting in some good laughs here and there that must have raised roofs in 1921, but that's it. Nothing else. Anybody who tells you there's more to it than that is probably just as likely to make an argument for swapping your mortgage in exchange for a 100- year-old bottle of wine. Because it's distinguished, it's cultured, it's a classic and you obviously just don't get the whole picture. Instead I'll let you in on a little secret. It's a good film as I've said, maybe even great, but it's certainly not the masterpiece it's so often regurgitated to be. Let's move on.