The Pilgrim

Kind of a middle ground for an evolving Charlie Chaplin, caught between the limited one and two-reel comedies of his early fame and the story conscious full-length features that would characterize his later career. _The Pilgrim_ runs about fifty minutes, with a ubiquitous plot driving all the action, but still leaves plenty of time for silly asides and long-form physical riffs. Chaplin plays an escaped convict who's swapped his conspicuous striped attire for a minister's jacket and collar, and is then accidentally adopted as a rural congregation's new preacher on his way to skip town. Most of the comedy keys on the faux-pastor's cringey efforts to fit in, or his nervous attempts to dance away from pursuing lawmen without arousing suspicion, but these story constraints often feel like they're holding the comedy back. Far and away, the best bit is a long, try-to-be-polite confrontation with an overbearing little boy at a parishioner's tea party. There, the pervasive urge to avoid rocking the boat leads him to soak up all manner of abuse, as his raging temper simmers behind a polite smile and passive "boys will be boys" pats on the head. Feels even shorter than it actually is.