It is easy to dismiss IN THE PARK as yet another footnote in Chaplin's admittedly long list of rather casual products early on in his career; the comedian himself would probably be the first one to do so. Indeed, the apparent reversion to the Keystone-days (days which were in fact not so far behind at this time) is not accidental. The film had more or less been forced upon Chaplin, in order to meet the demands of schedule as he had, in the eyes of the Essanay Company, spent an intolerable amount of time on his previous effort. Like the later film BY THE SEA, this not quite coherent chronology of fast-paced gags serves as little more than a so-called "program-filler," even if added into a cavalcade of Chaplin-shorts. That being said, IN THE PARK has its moments --moments within a moment, you may say-- and does undeniably possess potential as a fun flick.
Without time to develop his character, the occasional glimpses of complexity that Chaplin had attributed the Tramp (I suppose it's that way around?) in some previous Essanay-films are here non-existent. Charlie is brought back to his carefree days, when he regarded anything and everything as intuitive and mechanical as himself (and it usually was). He is not very appealing, in other words; he intervenes in the affairs of two lovers, throws bricks at innocent by-passers, and makes awful grimaces at leading lady Edna Purviance for no apparent reason whatsoever. When Charlie helps a man to commit suicide by kicking him out in a lake, whereupon he gallantly lifts his hat and leaves, we are presented with an obvious but nonetheless fascinating contrast to the Tramp's far more likable personality of the mature years; how different would he not react when a certain drunken millionaire tried the same thing in CITY LIGHTS?
In short, the best advice I can give anyone eager to enjoy this comedy is to stay as neutral as possible, and try to avoid any comparison to Chaplin's later work. Just lean back and wait for the good bits to turn up. Charlie's slick, impulsive satyr dance following Edna's granted kiss is often referred to, but my favorite moment occurs early on: a rather dazzling-looking pickpocket searches Charlie's pockets, unaware that the victim has noticed him and does in fact search HIS pockets in the meantime. Quite matter-of-factly, Charlie snaps a cigarette out of the thief's pocket and lights it with finesse. While in high school, I 'borrowed' this bit into a stage act in which I performed and received belly laughs. While comic performers usually feel most satisfied when they get applause for their own material, I must admit I found it just as thrilling to earn laughs for a gag taken from a Chaplin-film, proving (once again) that his comedy lives on; and no less so when taken from such an obscure and neglected piece as IN THE PARK.
Without time to develop his character, the occasional glimpses of complexity that Chaplin had attributed the Tramp (I suppose it's that way around?) in some previous Essanay-films are here non-existent. Charlie is brought back to his carefree days, when he regarded anything and everything as intuitive and mechanical as himself (and it usually was). He is not very appealing, in other words; he intervenes in the affairs of two lovers, throws bricks at innocent by-passers, and makes awful grimaces at leading lady Edna Purviance for no apparent reason whatsoever. When Charlie helps a man to commit suicide by kicking him out in a lake, whereupon he gallantly lifts his hat and leaves, we are presented with an obvious but nonetheless fascinating contrast to the Tramp's far more likable personality of the mature years; how different would he not react when a certain drunken millionaire tried the same thing in CITY LIGHTS?
In short, the best advice I can give anyone eager to enjoy this comedy is to stay as neutral as possible, and try to avoid any comparison to Chaplin's later work. Just lean back and wait for the good bits to turn up. Charlie's slick, impulsive satyr dance following Edna's granted kiss is often referred to, but my favorite moment occurs early on: a rather dazzling-looking pickpocket searches Charlie's pockets, unaware that the victim has noticed him and does in fact search HIS pockets in the meantime. Quite matter-of-factly, Charlie snaps a cigarette out of the thief's pocket and lights it with finesse. While in high school, I 'borrowed' this bit into a stage act in which I performed and received belly laughs. While comic performers usually feel most satisfied when they get applause for their own material, I must admit I found it just as thrilling to earn laughs for a gag taken from a Chaplin-film, proving (once again) that his comedy lives on; and no less so when taken from such an obscure and neglected piece as IN THE PARK.