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Originally published in the Manchester Guardian on 26 May 1956
SHEPPERTON, FRIDAY
Mr Charles Chaplin tonight had honours heaped on him by the British industry. But during the formal proceedings in the Shepperton Studios he remained deliciously in the character of "Charlie" of the good old days — he hardly spoke at all.
But before the speeches language flowed from him in neatly rounded drops. With his eldest daughter tugging at his classic blue suit, he held brief court among a huddle of journalists and film technicians. "What about the old Charlie — will he ever appear on the screen again?" cried one. "Never," said Mr Chaplin. "If he did he would have to talk and to talk he would have to step off his pedestal, the pedestal of the silent film. The orientals have gods, but they never take them out of their shrines."
He then walked on to the platform and sat quietly while the panjandrums of the British Film Academy and the Association of Cinematograph and Allied Technicians made him an honorary member of their respective institutions. The speeches began on a note of affectionate familiarity, with Sir Arthur Jarratt, the managing director of British Lion Films, harking back 50 years to the time he was a limelight boy in a music-hall and first saw Mr Chaplin as one of the "Eight Lancashire Lads" dancing in golden clogs.
Mr Anthony Asquith, the president of the A.C.T., then read aloud from the scroll conferring on Mr Chaplin honorary membership of the association for life "free of all charges and encumbrances absolutely." Mr Chaplin smiled broadly. Mr Asquith talked of "Charlie." Charlie, he said, was a unique combination — a person who was at one and the same time the creator, the medium and the creation. It was as if Beethoven had not only simultaneously been the composer and pianist but also his complete piano works and the piano on which he had played. In Charlie, Mr Chaplin had created a worthy companion for Falstaff and Don Quixote — at once a human being and a symbol of humanity. Mr Asquith ended by asking Mr Chaplin to reply although, he said, he would have preferred to have repeated the only instruction a film director once gave to Charlie, "Get out there and monkey around for about twenty feet."
Mr Chaplin, rapidly and a trifle wily, brought everything to a delightful close. He spoke for less than a minute. He said his best speech would be to use the words of Calvin Coolidge when he terminated his presidency of the United States. "Asked by a pressman if he would say a few last words to the American public before he left for his home, Coolidge replied: 'Yes — Goodbye'". Mr Chaplin went.
