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Stealing Chaplin Review – Beauty Meets In Disordered Offence Prank.

Key points: 

  • Kin graverobbers flash off one another in the fairly evident story of an endeavour to emancipate the parody legend’s body.

At a certain point in Stealing Chaplin, a sozzled shill attempts to get into a Union Jack-hung final resting place as Land of Hope and Glory rings out on the soundtrack. Possibly this fairly unprofessional yet fiery low-spending plan wrongdoing film has hit on something: in the post-Brexit time, Brits are presently not stock film lowlifes; conmen and chancers are our normal fits now. The hustle here is in amazingly sketchy taste: the coffin is Charlie Chaplin’s, whom sibling swindlers Cal (Simon Phillips) and Terry (Doug Phillips) have disinterred to recover his body so they can pay off the $30,000 they owe to Las Vegas criminals. 

You’d be pardoned for being dubious, however, this is founded on a genuine story – however, the robbery happened in 1978 in Switzerland, where Chaplin is covered, in actuality. Chief Paul Tanter juices it up into an Ocean’s 11-style escapade complete with rinky-dink music playing over cafe scenes as the sibling’s plan and quarrel. Police chief Goddard (Liliana Vargas) gradually cottons on to the way that the shysters running a National Leprosy Day trick are likewise graverobbers, while astounding secrecy of mobsters, twisted cops and – what difference would it make? – the siblings’ landlord attempts to lay hands on the corpse cum-cash wholesaler for themselves. Best not look around in this the entire day-smorgasbord of a plot excessively. 

Taking Chaplin’s acting and camerawork are likewise lopsided, and the sweet-talking youthful sibling escorting his act of futility more established kin feels like a platitude. Yet, the two Phillipses (no connection) fight so charmingly – allotting their complaints in stupid particulars, for example, Terry’s demand that tomatoes were once broadly thought to be noxious – that waiting in their organization (and a few scenes do wait) is an Elmore Leonard-esque joy. The hole toothed Doug Phillips, who composed the content, is the more attractive entertainer, with a sort of messed up misery. Notwithstanding the harsh edges, Stealing Chaplin has an unflagging, glib certainty that whisks you along.

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