I first saw Charlie Chaplin's One A.M. at The Silent Movie Theater in Hollywood in 2002, and joined the capacity crowd in uninhibited laughter--plain evidence that Chaplin's experimental 34 minute short continues to work nearly 80 years after its creation. Eschewing the usual pathos and any subtle rebellious attacks against authority figures, producer/director/writer/actor Charlie strictly goes for laughs this time. Outside of the opening few minutes where a taxi driver (Albert Austin) stoically waits for The Tramp, this is strictly a one-man show! Just think of the number of actors that can single-handedly command the screen for 30 minutes, and it gives some idea about Chaplin's prowess.

The premise is simple. The Tramp returns home after a night of drinking, and proceeds to turn the props in his house into a prolonged comedy sketch. If you've seen the older Chaplin struggling with his door key in Limelight, you've seen a brief example of the schtick, but Charlie throws in much more with his malevolent props--a well positioned fish bowl beneath the window, slippery waxed floors, strategically placed throw rugs, stuffed tigers and bears, well padded double staircases, a clock with an exaggerated pendulum, etc. One look at the well-stocked main set prepares the audience for the inevitable, yet Chaplin's body language and timing are so good that belly laughs are just as predictable across all generations.

The camera setup is also very simple at Chaplin's specific command. Mutual Film Corporation granted Chaplin complete control over his contracted twelve two-reel shorts, paying him an unprecedented $10,000 a week. Charlie never went for what he considered "cheap" camera tricks (like close-ups and movement) that would make the camera the star over the actor, so he insisted that head cameraman William C. Foster set the camera well back to include the Tramp's feet. So modern viewers may find the camerawork static, but you can't argue against the comic effects of Chaplin's acting and athleticism.

One significant lapse in continuity occurs when Chaplin runs in place on a revolving circular table, which has been mysteriously cleared of all bottles and objects that were part of a previous routine. After Chaplin inevitably falls to the floor, a liquor bottle absent during the table run magically reappears without explanation. But these are only noticeable if looking for them since the entire film focuses on the impish Tramp and his drunken challenges with common household objects. Upstairs awaits another comedy staple that will inspire future generations of slapstick comedians from Lucille Ball to Mel Brooks (Young Frankenstein) when Charlie indignantly takes on the rollaway bed behind the door.

Thankfully, home viewers can now access One A.M. along with all twelve of Chaplin's Mutual Films, now wonderfully preserved by Image Entertainment from the best original copies possible, without the pops and crackles you may have seen on inferior prints. A fitting tribute to one of the great artists of the twentieth century, as these films mark the happiest period of Chaplin's life, according to his autobiography:

"I was light and unencumbered, twenty-seven years old, with fabulous prospects and a friendly, glamorous world before me. Within a short time I would be a millionaire--it all seemed slightly mad."