Charlie Chaplin in Modern Times.

For the first time I see his face in real closeup, every feature capable of expressing an endless variety of emotions. Fluidly we see compassion and confusion; fear and indignity, happiness and melancholy drift across his face like patches of sunlight over a busy city square; buzzing with people, street vendors, mopeds and crusty pigeons. His famous mustache dances daintily and his eyebrows lead a life of their own. He has so much to say in his silent movie way.

Little anecdote:

My grandfather (1908) must have been about six years old. His father was working for the Dutch government and as a festive gesture, the British ambassador in The Hague had invited its relations and their families to a special Christmas celebration at the embassy. At this event my grandfather – Conny – and his brothers were treated to a selection of Charlie Chaplin films. For them it was their very first introduction to actual moving images, a whole new way of storytelling. Sitting in the dark, trembling with cinematic anticipation; a mechanical click, the soft purr of the projector and as the lights appear on the screen the slapstick action slowly comes into focus, that famous silhouette: bow-legged, bowler hat, bendy cane and floppy shoes. It must have been heaven for those boys…

Just cause he’s so great: