Original subtitles

December 1916.

The Society for Psychical Research

whose publications include "Phantasms of The Living"

and "Human Personality and Its Survival Of Bodily Death"

are reporting an extraordinary phenomenon.

Mr. Charles Chaplin, motion picture comedian,

has been cited in hundreds of places,

simultaneously. Subs/Sync: PTNK.

From the Atlantic to the Pacific,

from the Canadian boundary to the Gulf,

people wait at stations to see Mr. Chaplin.

In the same hour,

crowds are gathering at hotels across the country.

"Have you got the Chaplin-oia?" asks one newspaper.

Others report the Chaplin Fever,

the Chaplin Craze,

Charlie-mania.

"Chaplin-it is," runs one headline,

"Has spread across America."

Bootlegs, counterfeits, and imitators flood the market.

Lookalike contests spring up across the globe.

It's rumored that Chaplin himself entered such a contest

and came 20th.

People demand to know,

"Who is the Real Charlie Chaplin?"

When we think of Charlie Chaplin,

we picture this man.

This is the moment he first steps on to the screen.

And he looks at us.

He reappears soon after in other films.

Here he is again.

And here.

And he keeps looking at us.

But this is not Charlie Chaplin.

This man has no name.

He has no fixed address.

No family.

No set point in space or time.

You can't pin him down.

The only constants are the hat, the cane,

the boots and the mustache.

Sometimes just the mustache.

So who is he?

He's been called the little man.

The little fellow.

The Tramp.

He's a character played by Charlie Chaplin.

"The Tramp" will make Chaplin more famous

than any king, queen, or emperor.

More famous than any philosopher, artist,

or religious figure.

Famous in a way that no one has been before.

Chaplin makes "The Tramp" and "The Tramp" makes Chaplin.

You can't see one without looking at the other.

They tell each other's stories.

So where do we start?

Here's how Chaplin starts.

1889 begins with a total eclipse of the sun.

This year, the Eiffel tower opens to the public.

Adolph Hitler is born.

In Kyoto, Nintendo is founded.

They make playing cards.

Electric streetlights are being installed in London

where Jack the Ripper remains at large.

The pizza margarita is invented.

They're still working on the aero plane.

This is how movies look in 1889.

89.

These are recordings of the human voice.

Of birdsong.

Of music.

Film grows up alongside Chaplin.

It captures the London streets he roams as a kid.

The children he plays with.

This is the voice of Effie Wisdom.

Captured on tape when she was 92 years old.

It takes 12 days for the Karno Company

to cross the Atlantic.

- 12 days in a rat. - Infested cattle boat.

At first sight of land,

one young man leans over the railing

and screams out.

They embark on a grueling tour of the continent.

Playing three shows a day.

Fred Karno's brand of knockabout comedy

is intensely physical.

He teaches his comics how to trip.

How to tumble, slide and fall.

How to take a punch.

How to fall down a flight of stairs.

They're the best in the business.

And wherever they go, one performer stands out.

But his tour mates can't work him out.

Offstage, he's quiet, moody and reclusive.

He's usually shabby in appearance.

Then, without warning, he'll dress to Kill.

He teaches himself the cello, ancient Greek, yoga.

But above all he vows that he will not return poor.

In California, a fortune teller tells him

he will soon enter a new field

in which he will earn a tremendous fortune.

They say that fortunes are there to be made in America.

The oil boom has created millionaires overnight.

Henry Ford has devised the modern assembly line.

And Nickelodeon's opening in cities across the country,

showing motion picture comedies around the clock.

But Chaplin isn't impressed by the movies.

He thinks they're a passing fad.

Mr. Chaplin got into motion pictures purely,

in my mind, by accident.

This is the voice of Mack Sennett,

pioneer of movie comedy,

founder of Keystone Studios,

specialists in custard pie warfare and high-speed chases,

the Mack Sennett Bathing Girls, the Keystone Kops.

I have a comedian working for me at the time.

His name was Ford Sterling.

He was a chief of the Keystone Kops.

One day Sterling quits.

I said, " shucks".

Suddenly Sennett needs a new lead.

Right away, I thought of a comedian

that I'd seen in an English act called,

"A Night in the London Music Hall."

I couldn't remember the name at the time,

but I wired to New York to associates to find this man.

And I said, his name is Champion, Chaprin, or Chambers,

or something like that.

So they traced him in

and they found him in a small town in Pennsylvania.

Sennett offers him $150 a week,

three times the money he's getting now.

He decides he'll stick it out for a year.

And if Ford Sterling had continued with me,

the chances are that Chaplin would have returned to England

and we'd have probably missed the greatest comedian

we've ever seen.

This is Chaplin telling the story

in a 1966 interview for "Life Magazine."

It's one of the only times Chaplin has allowed

a tape recorder within these walls.

The million dollar question.

He's been asked this countless times by journalists.

And also by lawyers.

This man looks familiar.

The hat, the mustache.

But this is not Charlie Chaplin.

In the 1920s, this man releases a series

of knockoff Chaplin films under the name Charles Aplin.

Chaplin sues Aplin and the trial delves

into the origins of the Tramp.

Firstly, Aplin claims he wasn't imitating Chaplin.

He was imitating Billy West,

the famous Chaplin impersonator.

"Aplin's Chaplin isn't Chaplin," says Aplin.

Aplin's Chaplin is an imitation of an imitation of Chaplin.

"Besides, if anyone should be on trial for imitation,"

says Aplin, "It's Chaplin."

Two of Chaplin's Karno colleagues,

Fred Kitchen and Billy Ritchie,

both claim that Chaplin's Tramp is an imitation of theirs.

"I was the first says," Ritchie,

who goes on to make a living

producing knockoff Chaplin films.

But Aplin and Chaplin, Ritchie and Kitchen are all following

in the wake of a great wave of tramp comedians

who have been touring the vaudeville circuit

since the late 19th century.

These comedians are themselves inspired

by real tramps.

The drifters who crisscross America in search of work.

The homeless Chaplin grew up with on the streets of London.

These men are more likely to see the inside

of a police cell than a movie studio.

But in Chapman's telling the creation

of his Tramp is spontaneous.

He's just made his screen debut,

a clear knockoff of his predecessor Ford Sterling.

And the reviews aren't good.

In fact, the shoes were Sterling's,

the trousers, Fatty Arbuckle's

and the hat belonged to somebody's father.

The costume isn't stolen,

but it's assembled, magpie-like,

from bits of other costumes.

And so, we're back here, February, 1914.

The moment he first steps onto the screen

and looks at us.

And this time the reviews aren't half bad.

And it's not just New York.

Why is Chaplin fever spreading across the world?

What is it about this little Tramp?

Well, he's funny.

He can take any situation

and make it silly.

But it's more than that.

In a society sharply defined by class,

the Tramp not only stands up to the man.

He gives them a kick up the arse for good measure.

To the millions of migrants, dreaming of a new life,

the Tramp is someone without a nation.

Someone who has no language,

but who speaks to everyone.

And in a world divided by bitter conflict,

the Tramp can make you laugh,

whichever side you're on.

The Tramp defies the boundaries of identity.

He blurs gender and sexuality.

He upends authority and class.

He's a nobody

and he belongs to everybody.

In the work house.

Chaplin dreamed of becoming rich,

famous and beloved.

He's now the highest paid actor in the world.

The most famous man alive.

So all the adulation, it's not for me.

It's for the little man.

First impression was the eyes.

They could be so warm and so cold in a flash of a second.

Because he was a charmer, you know.

Charlie was a great exhibitionist.

Very flamboyant.

He put on a great show.

He loved to talk on any subject,

pretend that he was a rebel and a radical politically.

And he had the means of making people think

that he was a very profound reader,

when actually I think he read the first page

of a number of books

and made people think he read the whole thing.

Charlie was always acting.

Always on show, always the entertainer.

He didn't want people to know the real Charlie.

One's bound to be insecure with a childhood like his.

He never felt anybody loved him.

He never believed it.

He said, "Why would anybody love me?"

I am no psychiatrist,

but it's easy to see that still has a fear of poverty.

Don't care how much money he has.

He still has fear of poverty.

Within a few years,

Chaplin has built his own studio,

founded a distribution company,

liberated himself from dependence on financial backers.

He follows no schedule.

He doesn't even follow a script.

He starts with a vague idea

and replays it again and again and again,

until it becomes funny.

The actors are instructed to perform each gesture

exactly as he does

as though they are mere extensions of his body.

Every nuance, every glance, he makes first.

His assistant says that if he could have done every job

on set himself, he would have.

As it is, he writes, directs, produces,

edits, scores, and stars.

He even tries his hand at hair and makeup.

Finally, when he has total control,

he begins his most ambitious project yet.

It's the story of an abandoned child.

Of a single mother too poor to care for him.

In another life, the boy is headed for the workhouse.

But in this version, when the authorities arrive

to take him away,

he's not going without a fight.

It's been eight years since he left London.

And when he finally gets back,

he hears a familiar voice.

He finds himself back in the attic room

of No. 3 Pownall Terrace.

Four walls that the Chaplin family called home.

Where Chaplin's mother, Hannah,

delighted him with her costumes and impressions.

Where she struggled to make ends meet after her voice

and then her stage career failed.

She sat at this window

and told Charlie she could see ghosts outside

before she was dragged off to the asylum.

And Charlie's mother hasn't left London.

She's living in a nursing home.

So when Chaplin returns to America,

he brings her with him.

But she teeters between worlds.

Present and past seem to blur.

When she sees her son dressed as a tramp, she says,

"Charlie, I have to get you a new suit."

Meanwhile, her son is making a Hollywood epic.

One that takes the Tramp to the ends of the earth.

But it's themes are closer to home.

This is a test

to see how my voice records on the film.

You are now listening to a talking, moving picture.

We believe an entirely new art will be created.

The beginning of a new era in motion pictures.

Suddenly the Tramp's strength

becomes his weakness.

He can't talk.

What language would he speak?

What dialect?

1928 Warner axes all its silent projects.

1929 Fox follows.

By 1930,

all the major studios are talking.

One by one Chaplin's contemporaries start to talk.

First, Laurel and Hardy.

My trunk is packed

and I am leaving for South America, tonight.

Then Harold Lloyd.

I don't know what to say.

Well, that's nothing new, dear.

Then, Buster Keaton.

Well, I got a lot of serious talking to do

and you got a lot of serious listening to do.

The talky revolution is here.

It's alive! It's alive!

The public is going crazy

for anything that talks.

Wait a minute! Wait a minute!

You ain't heard nothin'.

But Chaplin decides to do the unthinkable.

He'll make a silent film.

Like most romantic comedies,

"City Lights" turns on a misunderstanding.

A blind flower girl mistakes the Tramp for a millionaire.

Simple enough on paper, but there is no paper.

Chaplin works without a script.

And this scene is to drive Chaplin

and everyone around him

to the edge of madness.

Can you tell us

about the shooting of that sequence?

Dear.

He'd take it over and over and over again.

I often thought that if he couldn't think

what he was going to do next,

he simply went on doing the same shot over again

until he thought of it.

Chaplain agonizes

over this mistaken identity scene.

It's the heart of the film.

It has to feel right.

He was a perfectionist.

And to us it often seem to be exactly the same.

When he'd finally say "It's a take,"

we'd breathe a sigh of relief.

And then he'd say, "Well, perhaps just one more time."

It's not working. Why isn't it working?

What if the rich man buys a flower first?

Then, no.

Maybe it's Virginia Cherrill.

270 days into the shoot.

Charlie fired me.

It's Cherrill. She's not right.

He needs a new flower girl and fast.

The whole thing is going to cost a fortune to reshoot.

He hires Georgia Hale,

his leading lady from "The Gold Rush."

He said, "I'm going to redo all

of 'City Lights' with you."

I'm gonna redo the whole thing with you.

- But, no. - Hale's not right either.

He tests other actresses.

They're just not, maybe Cherrill was the one.

He begs Cherrill to come back.

It's 534 days into the shoot,

but they still haven't got the flower scene.

He shot an entire film around the fulcrum

of this mistaken identity

and it just isn't working.

Then it comes to him.

A slamming door.

The key to Chaplin's defiantly silent opus

iS a sound.

At the premiere, 50,000 people turn out,

hoping to see the Tramp and the flower girl.

And some speculate the romance

may not be confined to the screen.

Many people thought I was his girlfriend,

but I wasn't.

- I was much too old. - I was 20.

All four of Chaplin's wives

were young actresses.

Three were teenagers.

I've asked the author of this book to visit us.

Her name is Lita Grey Chaplin.

The title is "My life With Chaplin."

We only have one of Chaplin's wives on tape.

Second wife of Charlie Chaplin and

1966 she releases her tell-all memoir.

It is a controversial sensational book.

And here is Lita Grey Chaplin.

I'm curious, Lita,

to find out why you would write this book.

I had a compulsion to write it.

I felt that the story just had to be told

or rather I had to tell the story.

I had lived so many years with the untrue story.

You starred in one of his movies

or you appeared in one of his movies.

"The Kid" when I was 12 years old.

Can I ask how old you were when you married him

or is that a secret?

Sixteen.

And were you then heading for a motion picture career?

Yes, I had begun in "The Gold Rush," but

couldn't finish the picture.

Charlie takes two years to make a picture, you know,

and we became involved in the meantime in such a way

that I couldn't have completed the picture.

A teenage girl pregnant with Chaplin's child.

His first wife, Mildred Harris,

went through something similar.

She divorced Chaplin, citing mental cruelty.

And things don't start any better for Lita.

We were married in Mexico

because Charlie didn't want much said about the marriage.

He was pretty bitter in the beginning.

On the way back on the train, he was quite nasty.

We were standing out on the platform between the cars

while the train was traveling.

And he said, we could just end this whole situation

if you'd just jump.

Two years later, Lita sues for divorce

and full custody of their two children.

It is, up to this point,

the most expensive divorce in Hollywood's history.

The petition is so sensational

that copies of it start selling on the street.

Lita describes him as a serial adulterer

who cheats openly and compulsively.

She claims he's paranoid and jealous.

That he flies into rages,

bugs her room, pulls a gun on her.

She says he tried to pressure her

into getting a backstreet abortion.

Chaplin calls Lita a blackmailer, a gold digger,

a little whore.

The papers label her Chaplin's child bride,

his school girl wife.

And in a letter of support for the genius Chaplin,

30 European intellectuals brand her

an idiot woman, cow,

slut, vermin, parasite.

A part of the public thought that I was wrong

in my divorce case.

That he was the poor little mistreated, pathetic little man

with so much pathos and all.

That me and my family were gold diggers

and all this kind of talk.

And that was, that made me feel bad

because I knew that a portion of the public

believed a lot because they idolized Charlie.

For many years afterwards,

Lita struggles with depression and alcohol.

She tries to set the story straight in interviews,

but the topic frequently strays back

to the matter of Chaplin's genius.

Even after her death,

biographies of Chaplin continue to characterize her

as a manipulative and seductive teenage girl.

Chaplin, in his autobiography,

dedicates just three sentences to Lita.

He never mentions her by name.

Lita's story is a shocking one.

But for Chaplin it changes nothing.

Plenty has changed though.

The optimism of the Roaring Twenties has come crashing down

and at every stop on Chaplin's world tour,

he sees the ravages of the Great Depression.

Communists and fascists are fighting in the streets.

Queues outside screenings of "City Lights,"

are mistaken for bread lines.

In London with Mahatma Gandhi,

he discusses poverty, exploitation

and the misuse of the machine.

A film is taking shape in Chaplin's head.

It's number one at the British Box Office,

a smash in The States.

Acclaimed in the Soviet Union.

But in one country, the film is banned outright.

Munich, 15 years earlier.

A little man marches down the street,

swishing at the air with some sort of cane.

His comical appearance attracts attention,

particularly his conspicuous toothbrush mustache.

He looks very familiar.

"Who is this funny little fellow?" someone asks.

He's the leader of some fringe political group.

"Just think," remarks Chaplin a few years later,

"He's the madman, I'm the comic."

But it could have been the other way around.

Chaplin and Hitler are born within four days of each other.

They both grow up adoring their mothers

and resenting their drunken fathers.

Both have known poverty.

One plays a tramp on screen

while the other is homeless on the streets of Vienna.

Both are driven by a passionate intensity and ambition,

laced with self-pity.

Sound threatens Chaplin's art, but is the making of Hitler.

They are both mesmeric performers.

They know how to command a crowd

through exaggerated gestures

and heightened emotional appeals.

Both elicit intense, almost physical reactions

from their audiences.

Chaplin makes them laugh.

Hitler drives them into a frenzy.

And then of course there's the mustache.

But when Chaplin and Hitler look at each other,

what do they see?

The Nazis hate Chaplin.

They label him a Jew

and use him in their antisemitic propaganda.

Neither can escape comparisons with the other.

And so, as Hitler celebrates his 50th birthday

with a military parade through Berlin,

Chaplin is working on a script for his latest film.

He begins filming the week Britain declares war on Germany.

In it, Chaplin collapses the distinctions

between himself and Hitler

as the dictator Adenoid Hynkel.

But it's also a story of doppelgangers.

He simultaneously plays the Jewish barber.

Before we take you down, you'll finish this. Here!

Come on. Paint that.

Why you!

Hey, come here!

Chaplin, who wasn't Jewish,

has finally aligned the Tramp with one identity.

A persecuted minority facing extermination.

At the film's end,

the Tramp is mistaken for the dictator

and forced to address the world.

When the greatest comedy character

of all time finally speaks,

it's not to tell a joke.

I'm sorry, but I don't want to be an emperor.

That's not my business.

I don't want to rule or conquer anyone.

I should like to help everyone, if possible.

Jew, Gentile, black men, white,

we all want to help one another.

Human beings are like that.

We want to live by each other's happiness,

not by each other's misery.

We don't want to hate and despise one another.

In this world there's room for everyone

and the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone.

The way of life can be free and beautiful,

but we have lost the way.

Greed has poisoned men's souls,

has barricaded the world with hate,

has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed.

We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in.

Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want.

Our knowledge has made us cynical,

our cleverness hard and unkind.

We think too much and feel too little.

You, the people have the power

to make this life free and beautiful,

to make this life a wonderful adventure.

Then in the name of democracy, let us use that power.

Let us all unite!

Let us fight for a new world, a decent world,

that will give men a chance to work,

that will give you the future and old age a security.

By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power.

But they lie. They do not fulfill that promise.

They never will!

Dictators free themselves, but they enslave the people.

Now let us fight to fulfill that promise.

Let us fight to free the world,

to do away with national barriers,

to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance.

Let us fight for a world of reason,

a world where science and progress will lead

to all men's happiness.

Soldiers, in the name of democracy, let us all unite!

Chaplin knows the Tramp can't survive this.

By breaking his silence,

he's putting his creation on the alter.

But after a quarter of a century in the Tramp costume,

can Chaplin be sure

that he will re-emerge whole?

Can there be one

without the other?

It's 1947.

Charlie Chaplin is holding a press conference

at the Gotham Hotel in New York.

He's about to release his new motion picture.

His first without the Tramp.

But as he knows, no one's here to talk about the film.

Chaplin.

So, how did we get here?

"The Great Dictator" has been an enormous success

and its closing speech has made such a splash

that Chaplin is invited to repeat it

at the inauguration of President Franklin D. Roosevelt.

You, the people, have the power

to make this life free and beautiful,

to make this life a wonderful adventure

that in the name of democracy, let us use that power.

Let us all unite!

At a fundraiser for the Russian war relief,

he's invited to speak for four minutes.

We must have a unity.

He speaks for 40.

And only by the strength of unity

can we win this war.

He gets carried away, goes off script.

I certainly think if that's communism,

there's a lot of people in the United States

that'll vote for it.

Having waited so long to break his silence,

Chaplin can't stop talking.

I just made a speech in Chicago

and I happened to say that while people are anticommunist,

I am going to be communistic.

We must have the full strength

from the capitalist to the communist,

in order that we shall achieve victory.

And people are starting to listen.

Under the orders of its notorious director,

J. Edgar Hoover,

the FBI is engaged in wide ranging investigation

into Chaplin's possible ties

to the international communist movement.

The Red Scare is underway,

from Capitol hill to Hollywood.

Communism in reality is akin to disease

that's spread like an epidemic.

And like an epidemic,

a quarantine is necessary to keep from infecting the state.

Actors, writers and filmmakers

are dragged in front of the House

un-American Activities Committee.

Are you or have you ever been a member

of the communist party?

What is your opinion regarding communism?

I feel that they really ought to be smoked out.

If I had my way about it,

they'd all be sent back to Russia

or some other unpleasant place.

10 Are imprisoned for refusing to testify.

Hundreds are blacklisted.

Taking down a big star would be a major coup for Hoover

and they don't come much bigger than Charlie Chaplin.

Are you a member of the communist party?

But this response doesn't satisfy Hoover.

Through the FBI's lens,

Chaplin becomes not only a communist,

but a foreign subversive,

a homosexual, a Jew.

It tells us a lot more about the FBI

than it does about Chaplin.

They're looking for dirt.

And in this department, they have a powerful ally.

Hello everybody.

This is Hedda Hopper reporting to you from Hollywood.

That fabulous place where everyone wants to live,

but seldom does.

"Hedda Hopper's Hollywood Gossip Column"

is read by 32 million Americans.

Work in Culver City and play.

She has the power

to make or break careers.

Palm Springs, the other day I decided to get away,

and she hates communists.

Saw a little bit of sunshine.

She tells Hoover,

I'd like to run every one of those rats out of the country

and start with Charlie Chaplin.

The file shows that Hopper and Hoover's relationship

iS more or less circular.

Hopper fills her columns with gossip about Chaplin

that's been fed to her by the FBI.

Charlie Chaplin dividing

his dancing attention night before last at the Persian Room.

The FBI then quotes those columns

and its file against Chaplin.

In the minds of

Charlie Chaplin is called the debutante's delight.

The machine feeds itself.

Regarding communists in Hollywood.

I found much.

The evidence, however, remains circumstantial.

Until one day.

You know, there's one man in particular.

Hopper finds a young woman called Joan Barry.

In 1941, Joan arrived in Hollywood

as an aspiring young actress.

Charlie Chaplin took an interest in her.

He said he could make her a star.

Now she's pregnant and she needs help.

Hopper and Hoover sense an opportunity.

Chaplin is taken to court to prove that he's the father.

And Hopper ensures the whole case plays out,

week-by-week in the tabloid press.

The prosecutor tears into Chaplin.

He reveals that Chaplin forced Barry

to have two backstreet abortions

and accuses him of decades of predatory behavior.

Three grueling trials later,

a blood test suggests he may not be the father.

But it's too late.

The tide has finally turned.

It's a great victory for the right wing press and the FBI.

But what about Joan Barry?

Where does this leave her?

A few years later,

she is committed to a psychiatric hospital.

There's no further trace of her.

And now it's open season on Charlie Chaplin.

Now that it's ended.

The romance is over.

The passion gone.

Like the wind and the rain.

Gone are the joys.

Of our madness.

When I dream of you.

In the midst of all these scandals,

he's married again.

Oona O'Neill.

My mother was so young when she met him.

She was 17 and he was 52, I think.

They fell in love

and then as soon as she turned 18, they married.

Everyone thought that she was just a bimbo

and that she'd be gone soon.

They were mad about each other.

The only opinion he listened to was my mother's.

Just couldn't do nothing without her approval.

She was the sunshine.

She gave warmth.

But his next film, "Limelight,"

betrays an underlying anxiety.

In it, he's an aging comedian.

Once renowned for playing a beloved Tramp character

whose public

has now abandoned him.

On September 17th, 1952,

the Chaplin family depart the United States

to attend the European premiere.

Two days into the voyage.

The story which makes the most sensational news

is the departure of Charlie Chaplin for London.

Immigration officials are prompt to suggest

that the great comic may have difficulty getting back here

if he wants to come.

The United States Attorney General,

James P. McGranery,

heard that Chaplin had been...

Charged with making statements

that would indicate a leering, sneering attitude

toward a country whose gracious hospitality

has enriched him.

And then at the Justice Department

decided that Chaplin could not re-enter the country,

unless he could prove quote "His moral worth."

This has been years in the making.

His enemies have tried everything.

But in the end,

they just wait until he leaves.

Chaplin sells his Hollywood studio

and retreats to Switzerland.

He moves the family into a grand estate

ringed by the Alps.

The sentence I remember most, him saying.

"I'm not bitter about America."

I'm not bitter about America.

- Bitter about America? - "I'm not bitter about America."

He said it so many times one begins to wonder.

And Chaplin is forced to adapt to his new role

as a father.

My father wasn't Charlie Chaplin.

I knew they were the same person,

but they looked nothing alike.

Except when he had an audience,

then he would become Charlie Chaplin,

that other man, the man that was on the screen.

This is the Charlie Chaplin we find

in the family's home movies.

A cheerful clown who appears

the moment the camera starts rolling.

My one wish growing up

was to have one conversation alone with my father.

Just the two of us.

He was inaccessible in SO many ways.

Your father's working.

Don't disturb him.

He'll lose his inspiration.

Our world revolved around my father's well being.

I was kind of frightened of my father.

He was so powerful in a certain way.

You couldn't argue with him because he couldn't be wrong.

Everyone who gets too close to him,

he'll end up suffocating.

He couldn't help it.

That's why I left home at an early age.

And I think my sisters did too, you know.

Chaplin makes two films in exile.

But neither is the comeback he hopes for.

He said to me,

"I was very famous."

"I used to be very famous."

It did matter to him.

Of course it mattered to him.

He needed an audience.

He was a comedian.

You need an audience.

Correction.

It strikes me that happiness is becoming more difficult.

New paragraph.

To write a book.

A great controversy was going on in the press, comma...

- In this day and age we... - comma.

Paragraph... of unconsciousness.

In the pages of his memoir,

Chaplin revisits, once more,

the streets he wandered as a boy.

The streets he haunts as an old man.

The streets he returned to time and again,

as the Tramp.

His old Lambeth neighborhood,

he rebuilt it in his Hollywood studio.

The gates of Killing ton Park,

here Chaplin met for a date with his first love.

It's where the Tramp meets the flower girl.

And the attic of No. 3 Pownall Terrace.

Where young Charlie watched his mother's health ebb away.

It's the attic room in "The Kid."

And if Chaplin isn't finished with the past,

the past certainly isn't finished with him.

When Hollywood stages a grand reconciliation at the Oscars,

it seems like a bid to turn back the clock.

When he's knighted in 1975,

people are still searching for traces of the little fellow.

Sir Charles left the palace,

not with his famous cane,

but now leaning on a thick walking stick.

He's 86 next month and he sat in a wheelchair

as the queen dubbed him.

Is there anyone left

who can look at one without seeing the other?

When you ask for the real Charlie Chaplin,

a thousand voices reply.

Take care.

Some are louder than others.

Some are hidden.

Some struggle to be heard.

And others

remain silent.

I think if anyone could pin my father down,

could understand him

it was my mother.

My mother's voice doesn't exist.

There's nothing with her.

No recorded interviews.

Certainly she kept journals. She kept diaries.

Writing was, I think, her way of escaping.

Writing furiously, writing continuously.

In her last years,

she spent a lot of time destroying,

destroying what she had written.

She was probably very lonely.

I could imagine it would be quite lonely

being the wife of Charlie Chaplin.

That big wish that I had,

to have conversation alone with my father.

I forgot about it.

I thought, " you know, this is ridiculous."

It's just never gonna happen.”

And when I dropped it, that's when it happened.

Conversation alone with my dad.

I had grown up with the icon.

But the man, I had no idea who the man was.

He spoke about having huge amounts of doubt.

He said that he had had doubts all his life.

He accomplished his life's dream,

but I don't think he ever really got over his doubts.

Does one ever really get over where you come from?

I don't think it ever leaves you.

If you only shut your trap

I will tell you about a chap.

That was broken up against it and threadbare.

He was not the kind that shirked.

He was looking hard for work.

But he heard the same old story everywhere.

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, keep on a-trampin'

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp.

"Nothin" doing here for you.

If I catch you round again.

You will wear the ball and chain.

Keep on tramping.

That's the best thing you can do.

He walked up and down the street.

Til the shoes fell off his feet.

In the house he spied a lady cooking stew.

And he said, how do you do.

May I chop some wood for you.

What the lady told him made him feel so blue.

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, keep on a-trampin'

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp.

"Nothin" doing here for you.

If I catch you round again.

You will wear the ball and chain.

Keep on trampin'

That's the best thing you can do.

Cross the street the sign he read.

Work for Jesus, so it said.

And he said, here is my chance

I'll surely try.

And he knee led upon the floor.

Til his knees got rather sore.

But at eating time he heard the preacher cry.

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, keep on a-trampin'

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp.

"Nothin" doing here for you.

If I catch you round again.

You will wear the ball and chain.

Keep on trampin'

That's the best thing you can do.

Down the street he met a cop.

And the copper made him stop.

And he asked him, when did you blow into town.

Come with me up to the judge

the judge, he said, fudge.

Bums that have no money needn't come around.

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, keep on a-trampin'

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp.

"Nothin" doing here for you.

If I catch you round again.

You will wear the ball and chain.

Keep on trampin'

That's the best thing you can do.

Finally came the happy day.

When his life did pass away.

He was sure he'd go to heaven when he died.

When did he reached the pearly gates

Saint Peter, mean old saint.

Slammed the gate right in his face and loudly cried.

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, keep on a-trampin'

Tramp, Tramp, Tramp.

"Nothin" doing here for you.

If I catch you round again.

You will wear the ball and chain.

Keep on trampin'

That's the best thing you can do.

Keep on trampin'

That's the best thing you can do ©