Chaplin

The November issue of The New Criterion has an excellent article on the humanities by Mark Bauerlein:
http://www.newcriterion.com/articles.cfm/What Dido-did--Satan-saw--O-Keefe-painted-7728
in which he says:

To attract the undergraduate who focuses narrowly on career and the CEO with $10 million to give, advocates should realize, don't wax righteous or pragmatic about the humanities as a bloc or as an instrument.  Rather, show them vivid images of architecture in Washington, D.C.; recount Captain Ahab on the quarterdeck enlisting the crew in his obsession, or Dido's reaction once she learns her beloved Aeneas has slipped away in the night, or Satan in the Garden eyeing Adam and Eve, tormented by their innocence and plotting their ruin; stage the avid sadism of Regan and Goneril or the banter of Algernon and Ernest; or run the final scene when the Tramp, just out of prison, turns to face the blind flower girl, now cured, who clasps his hand, grimaces at the sight of him, and mutters, "Yes, I now can see."  These are the materials of inspiration, and they are the highest card the humanists can play.

I think this is sound advice, though I will leave for another time the discussion of how effective it will be with the many undergraduates who have never read a book, seen a painting or been to the theatre or a concert. What most impressed me about this passage was the intelligent inclusion of Chaplin's City Lights.  Chaplin is one of the few filmmakers who my fifteen-year-old son loves and I think this is not only because he is funny, but also because of his intense humanity and compassion.  When I first starting going to the movies seriously the Chaplin films were unavailable, except for poor prints of The Gold Rush, which for complicated reasons had fallen into the public domain.  Gradually the films began to be released, the lovely A Woman of Paris last (I knew people who had gone to East Berlin to see the only available copy) and I urge anyone who has not seen them to do so, ideally in a theatre (Film Forum shows them fairly often);  one may not find them funny but Chaplin moves like a ballet dancer and constructs his gags elegantly without ever sacrificing the context for a cheap laugh (unlike Woody Allen, who some young New Yorkers said they preferred when the Chaplin movies began to surface). Chaplin's films are amazingly resonant today, when we need laughter and compassion more than ever.