Probably everyone remembers the first time they saw a Charlie Chaplin
movie. Whether it was a Little Tramp short film, watched as a young child,
or a discovery later in life, the magic of Chaplin stays in the memory for a
long time. My first Chaplin was
Modern Times, at the age of 24. As
an adult, the jokes are still funny, the Tramp’s antics are still
brilliantly performed and the romance is still heart-tugging.
What really shocked me, and maybe what made me a Chaplin lover for life,
was the music.
Modern Times was halfway over before I realized that
its writer, director and star was also its composer, and then admiration
teetered into awe. This brand-new recording of the
Modern Times
original score confirms it: the Tramp was an extremely fine composer.
At times, the 80-minute soundtrack sounds like incidental music for
ballet, which it is. A silent film, relying on the physicality of its lead
performer, is basically a dance movie in disguise. Think about the scene
where Chaplin, on roller skates, glides ever closer to a terrifying fall.
The sound effects of the factory might not belong on stage but otherwise
this is awfully close to a ballet score. My colleague Rob Maynard is right
to point out, in his review, that there are a number of moments in the score
which make little to no sense without an accompanying picture, the factory
whistles among them.
Generally, the music is terrific. Chaplin was a master of great tunes. The
love theme in this soundtrack later became “Smile”, a Nat King Cole standard
which Michael Jackson said was his favourite song. At 6:30 on track 2, a
dance breaks out that would make Franz Lehár itch with envy. Track 4 has a
surprise episode that whisks you through a tango club in Argentina en route
to Parisian café music.
The orchestration is also remarkable. Here Chaplin had help from actual
professionals Edward Powell, Alfred Newman and David Raksin, but he didn’t
need too much. According to the booklet, many or most of the voicing ideas
were Chaplin’s own, and the director’s constant perfectionism extended to
every detail of the music. The recording session lasted an entire month, and
throughout it, Chaplin scribbled directions like “no oboe” or “add melody
for cello here.” So we can give Chaplin partial credit for the skilled use
of saxophones and contrabassoon, the way melodies get bounced from one
instrument to another, the orchestral piano and an abundance of contrapuntal
bonus melodies.
It’s fun to play “spot the influences.” I hear echoes of Debussy, Ravel,
Barber, Offenbach, Chabrier and Tchaikovsky. Near the beginning, I thought I
caught a whiff of Stravinsky. This was confirmed on track 7, which ends with
a very long parody of
Petrushka. The parody is flawlessly executed
by Chaplin, and for anybody who knows their Stravinsky, it will be a
delight.
There is certainly evidence of an amateur composer. We get an awful lot of
repetition, including some simple melodies built on repeated notes, and
there are moments where the score has to double back on itself in order to
ensure that the music is long enough to last through a scene. On the other
hand, Chaplin proves skilled at bringing the themes from the overture back,
now and then, in the scenes that follow. There are many moments that, now
recorded afresh in digital sound, provide an unexpected delight with their
thoughtfulness. My favourite: the lovely cello reply to the main theme in
track 6, after 2:30.
Timothy Brock has restored this score through, frankly, sheer heroism. He
worked for over a year with all the available historical evidence, trying to
piece together Chaplin’s final version out of comments left by conductor
Newman, individual musicians in the orchestra, and all the various original
sheet music and parts. He estimates that he worked at a pace of 20 seconds
of restored music per day.
The result is a performing edition now used at live screenings of
Modern Times around the world. The result, also, is this
marvellous, joyous CD, which proudly re-announces what a skilled composer
Charles Chaplin was. You should probably watch the film first, as Rob
Maynard says, but if you have, this is one of the greatest joys of the year,
a CD of classic light music from a totally unexpected source. If you listen
to this album and gripe about what a clumsy composer Chaplin was, you’re
uncharitable. If you listen and fail to have fun, you’re a Grinch. If you
can watch the final scene of
Modern Times without your eyes getting
a little misty, then I don’t want to be your friend.
Brian Reinhart
Previous review:
Rob Maynard
