J. Mark Powell
Submitted photo
By J. Mark Powell
It’s an indelible icon of America’s early 20th century: A bowler hat and a toothbrush mustache, baggy trousers with worn-out shoes, a cheap cane and a funny walk, all garnished with an impishly shy smile.
For over a century, we’ve recognized them as the trademarks of Charlie Chaplin’s beloved Little Tramp character. At least once (and perhaps more), Chaplin failed to pass himself off as — himself. His image is so iconic today that it’s difficult to remember there was once a time when the absurd figure’s hilarious antics were brand new.
A new medium was coming into its own in the 1910s. Though Hollywood preferred the slightly scientific-sounding title “motion picture industry,” everyday folks created the name we still use today. Movies.
They had advanced way beyond the original brief grainy, flickering scenes showing slices of daily life. (Remember, the very first five-second film Thomas Edison shot in January 1894 showed a guy sneezing). By the early 1910s, they had evolved into actual stories. And young English comedian turned Californian Charlie Chaplin was in the right place at precisely the right time to make the most of it.
His lovable vagrant (or “the little fellow,” as Chaplin called him) first appeared in 1914’s “Mabel’s Strange Predicament.” Mabel Normand was a popular star in her day, but the Little Tramp stole the show … and moviegoers’ hearts, too.
He was an instant hit. In fact, the next year he starred in the feature comedy “The Tramp.” It was box office gold, and the rest, as they say, was history.
Charlie Chaplin’s Little Tramp was an overnight worldwide sensation. There had never been anything that big, that global, in human history. The Little Tramp was an Everyman with universal appeal. Because these were silent films, the title cards could easily be switched from English to other languages. In a remarkably short time, audiences were laughing at the tramp’s hijinks from Bakersfield to Berlin to Bombay.
The whole world loved Charlie Chaplin, and his humor helped people heal from the insanity that had been World War I.
By 1920, Charlie Chaplin Mania was in full swing. Local movie houses cashed in on the craze by holding Charlie Chaplin look-alike competitions. In a decade famous for its fads, this one swiftly swept the country.
Dozens of men entered the contests, all dressed like the Little Tramp and sporting glued-on mustaches. There there fat Tramps and skinny Tramps, tall Tramps and short Tramps, old Tramps and young Tramps. Audiences often picked the winners with their applause. Some winners went home with generous prizes.
Yet Charlie Chaplin himself — the real Charlie Chaplin — lost at least one such competition.
Chaplin had a mischievous streak and loved pulling good-natured pranks. It’s easy to see why this one appealed to him.
In his book, “My Father, Charlie Chaplin,” Charles Chaplin Jr. wrote, “They held countless Charlie Chaplin contests. Dad told me about one of these that had taken place before I was born. It was at Grauman’s Chinese Theatre in Hollywood, and there were 30 or 40 people on the stage doing their best to imitate Dad. Dad was one of them. He’d gone up incognito to see how he would fare. He came in third. Dad always thought this one of the funniest jokes imaginable — whether on him or the judges or both, I don’t know.”
Another version appears in the book “Tramp: The Life of Charlie Chaplin.” It says: “… many (vaudeville houses) were promoting the Chaplin vogue by sponsoring amateur Charlie look-alike contests. Among the early winners was Bob Hope, who took first prize in a Chaplin contest in Cleveland. Charlie himself was not so lucky. When he entered a contest run by a theater in San Francisco, he failed even to make the finals. “I am tempted to give lessons in the Chaplin walk,’ he told a reporter, ‘out of pity as well as in the desire to see the thing done correctly.’”
Knowing Chaplin’s sense of merriment and love of lighthearted devilry, he may have entered several contests on a whim while appearing in different cities when touring the country. While the specifics are open to debate, it appears Charlie Chaplin actually did lose his own look-alike contest at least once.
You can’t help chuckling at the irony. The man who made millions from making the world laugh failed to convince an audience that he was himself. It would have melted even the Little Tramp’s heart.
Editor’s note: J. Mark Powell is a novelist, former TV journalist and diehard history buff. Have a historical mystery that needs solving? A forgotten moment worth remembering? Send it to him at HolyCow@insidesources.com. Reader reactions, pro or con, are welcomed at AzOpinions@iniusa.org.
