So it’s weird how iconic Charlie Chaplin’s Tramp is. Like, if someone said “silent movie” to you, there’s a pretty good chance you’d picture that actor and that character. And that’s not coincidental: Critics love the guy. When I was reading the reviews about this after watching it, literally everyone was gushing about it, from the most casual critics to the most snooty. It seems to be almost universally loved.

And yet… it’s only at #50, so apparently not every critic loves it. And put me with the ones who don’t quite get what all the fuss is about, honestly.

Because, okay, it’s clever physical comedy. It’s full of pratfalls and visual gags and a boxing scene where the Tramp dances around and engages in implausible feats of fisticuffs and all that. And there’s a charming romance between the Tramp and a blind flower girl with a surprisingly tense ending that turns sweet. I don’t want to say anything against it, as such. It’s fine.

It’s just… it wasn’t more than that. The physical comedy didn’t shock me with how clever it was; it seemed obvious, mostly. There was a lot of “yes yes, get on with it now” to the movie.

And yeah, okay, I know it’s old and all that. But it’s not that old! It’s 1931; it’s one of the last great silent films released in the talkie era. The other half-dozen silent films I’ve watched were all well before this, and I think each of them had more to recommend them. Ultimately, I can respect this movie and see that it did what it set out to do professionally and competently; but critical acclaim notwithstanding, I don’t love it.