Concert review: Orchestra tackles visual and aural genius of Chaplin

To many film critics, Charlie Chaplin's "City Lights" is the apotheosis of his art. "The Jazz Singer" had broken the sound barrier three years earlier and yet Chaplin chose to make it as a silent, even composing his own musical score.

That he made the right decision is proven this weekend when the Minnesota Orchestra accompanies a showing of the film at Orchestra Hall. This opening event of the orchestra's "The Sounds of Cinema Festival," heard Thursday morning, proved revelatory.

Chaplin was a master at juxtaposing mawkish melodrama with bawdy slapstick. In "City Lights," his beloved Little Tramp falls sweetly in love with a blind girl and goes through all manner of machinations to raise the money to restore her sight.

But his antics, like a stint as a street sweeper following elephants or an ill-advised boxing career, are sheer silly delight. He even undercuts the romance when the Little Tramp is gazing wistfully at his love and she inadvertently spills water all over him.

The score is likewise successful at juxtaposing musical styles. A melody reminiscent of Puccini is followed immediately by jazz riffs on the horns. Pop themes rub elbows with a genuine symphonic tarantella.

Chaplin is also effective in employing the music for dramatic effect. The use of a lilting waltz tune to underscore a moment of real danger for the Little Tramp only increases the tension.

There were a few moments when the orchestra and the film were out of sync, as when the trombones onscreen started playing several seconds before the trombones onstage. But for the most part, conductor Osmo Vänskä did a remarkable job of maintaining continuity for the continual 90 minutes.

Nonetheless, it has to be admitted that this is not a great score. Too often, the music meanders, lacking the architecture that a trained musician would have imposed on the material. The persistent love theme becomes somewhat monotonous, even insidious, in its continual, unvaried repetition.

And there are even moments when Chaplin seems to be working at cross purposes. Overly sentimental melodies accentuate the bathos that the comedy so skillfully mitigates.

But those are mere quibbles about a work of true genius. Cinematic storytelling was very different 70 years ago and Chaplin speaks most eloquently through his images and music. This is a rare opportunity to experience both on an equal footing, while enjoying a brilliant entertainment.

William Randall Beard is a Minneapolis writer.