Cinema avoided comedies directly involving the war. The British film industry was far behind America in terms of technique and narrative and therefore most films were imported from the States. Because of America’s neutral position for most of the war, these shows were produced primarily for a civilian audience and were sectioned into short films of ten to fifteen minutes, news bulletins and very basic cartoons (the Kineto war maps were pioneered at this time). Films were silent, often accompanied by an orchestra who sat in front of the screen or in a "pit" like in a theatre. Logistically, this kind of organization was impossible in the lines. Film performances made regular occurrences whenever possible, but because cinema was difficult to stage, it was less prolific than the concert parties, plays and music hall turns. Wartime cinemas at the front were usually located in small towns behind the lines that had escaped shelling or in permanent bases. The Bull Ring training ground at Etaples had it’s own cinema and was extremely popular, but proof of how hard it was to maintain a cinema on a war front was the running joke in the Wipers Times advertising films in the cloth hall of the destroyed town of Ypres.

Cinema was enjoyed by all classes of men, and since it was so difficult to maintain at the front, cinema that did continue to show films were extremely popular. Due to the limited amount of comedy available, the action of going to the cinema seems to have been primarily a social one rather than to see a good film. However, the troops were not interested in the newsreels and it seems that the film programmes rested exclusively on repeating comedy and little more. Soldiers wanted to see films that displaced them from reality; hence the emphasis on farce and humour that was the dominant theme of all cinemas at the front. Although comedies stayed resolutely away from the subject of the war, focusing on home front concerns the troops would have found patronizing and irrelevant, cinema was still the greatest entertainment forum for escapism, and as it was still a relatively new invention it is easy to see why the soldiers appreciated it so much.

War comedy was scarce, but some were still produced. It seems that these were preferred at the front to the more staple forms of melodrama, and were often repeated extensively. Many cinema programmes at the front place great emphasis on the fact that their shows change weekly, which suggests there was limited choice and a good deal of repetition. Farces ridiculing the Germans were obviously the major theme. Leading these attempts were the Keystone studio and the comedies of Harold Lloyd, although again the war as a direct topic was infrequent and the Germans appeared as background characters. Films stuck to clichéd formulae of melodrama or gross comedy (for example, a very fat Kaiser was a popular theme. However, as these comedies were produced by the home front, they were rigorously contained by the need to promote the army and encourage recruitment. ). Increasing morale was a key theme that was not always appreciated and was often heavy-handed. The main military character was never show as anything other than brave or noble, the comedy itself taking second place to the central themes of morality. One of these farces, The Submarine Pirate (1918, Keystone) was so successful in this respect that it was used by the Navy to help recruitment. In War and Film, (Assoc. Univ Press, 1981) Michael Isenberg discusses this pattern:

Another example of this was Too Fat To Fight (1916), which charted the attempts of an obese man to slim down so that he could join up. It is difficult to see how the troops could find this kind of crude propaganda repeatedly funny when these comedies were so obviously aimed at a different audience.

The best comedies of the war were of course, the most subversive ones. Charlie Chaplin was already established as a leading star of the silent screen, and he continued to produce films during the war that were received in a far better light than the more irrelevant melodramas such as Billy’s Spanish Love Spasm (less amusing than its title would suggest, unfortunately). However, it is incorrect to say that Chaplin was universally loved by the army. Although he supported the war cause, Chaplin did not fight, and there was considerable animosity from the troops towards him who claimed he was producing films about which he knew nothing. As an American citizen, Chaplin did not have to fight, but his continued public drive for War Bonds made him the focus of critical ire. Whilst apparently supporting the war cause from home, he was doing nothing to contribute towards it. Several trench songs mentioned this:

The Moon shines Bright on Charlie Chaplin,

His boots are cracking, for want of blacking,

And his khaki trousers they want mending,

Before we send him,

To the Dardanelles.

And a slightly less vehement version:

They say as Charlie Chaplin ain’t

A doing of his bit

Yet all the same with all the boys

He sure has made a hit;

He licks the Western Cowboy and

His Bronco-busting trick-

Of all the reels upon the film

Old Charlie is the pick.

(D.W.Mcaffrey Focus on Chaplin, 1971, p.18)

One of the problems with analyzing Chaplin’s films is that to a modern audience, they are not funny at all. Chaplin’s humour is seen as crude, repetitive and facile. This concept forms the basis for the Blackadder episode, Major Star.

Blackadder. I find his (Chaplin’s) films about as funny as getting an arrow through the neck and then discovering there’s a gas bill tied to it.

George. Oh, beg pardon sir, but come off! His films are ball-bouncingly funny.

Blackadder. Rubbish.

George. All right, well – let’s consult the men for a casting vote, shall we? Baldrick!

Baldrick. Sir?

George. Charlie Chaplin, Baldrick. What do you make of him?

Baldrick. Oh, sir, he’s as funny as a vegetable that has grown into a rude and amusing shape, sir.

Blackadder. So you agree with me – not at all funny.

….

George…Chaplin is a genius.

Blackadder. He certainly is a genius, George. He invented a way of getting paid a million dollars a year for wearing a pair of stupid trousers.

(Major Star, Scene One).

I would argue against both readings. Although Chaplin is not funny to a modern audience, equally it is wrong to suggest that the troops found him as amusing as is often suggested. But despite these perceptions, he was still extremely popular. Firstly, it seems that Chaplin provided the only relevant comedy during the war for soldiers. Because he was a clown, his performance relied more on slapstick that melodrama, giving a greater degree of escapism than farces concerning the morality and concepts of home. Chaplin was appreciated by a wide audience – it was a communal activity going to one of his films and knowing there would be others present laughing at his antics. Lastly, Chaplin’s comedy may have been crude, but at the time it was still novel. Farce and slapstick made a welcome break from the intense overdramatics of the silent screen. Chaplin was derided in by troops who thought he was providing them with not an entirely truthful view of war but it is wrong to suggest that they did not find him amusing and diverting. In 1917 "wearing a pair of stupid trousers" was an original idea, especially as Chaplin’s medium was the relatively new one of cinema.

The most famous of Chaplin’s film is Shoulder Arms. Again this is often misrepresented. The film is praised as "The best comedy to come out of the war" (Isenberg p. 208). However, it is unlikely that it had such a great effect on the troops as it was produced in October 1918, two weeks before the armistice was signed. It is possible however, that this fact ensured it’s success. Wartime was considered a very dangerous time to produce a film that was not entirely conformist ideologically – even Chaplin initially disliked the film and it was his close friend Douglas Fairbanks who encouraged him to release it. Shoulder Arms gives a farcical and subversive take on the war, a concept that could very possibly have backfired. Unlike the trench journals, the film was aimed at civilian and soldier alike, so there was apparently no exclusive audience to champion it. Isenberg explains the reason behind the films’ immediate success.

One of the key reasons for Shoulder Arms’ success was the response from the various armies. Many soldiers were still waiting to be demobilized and had spare time in which to consider the war. They still existed within an army community, but it was increasingly becoming one with little to do except await discharge. Not only had recreation periods increased dramatically, but soldiers were beginning to consider their actions during the war. These were in turn starting to appear more unpleasant, morally questionable and sometimes ridiculous. Already the war was undergoing the revision process needed to make it a memory. Chaplin’s persona preys directly on this feeling that war makes the individual suddenly adrift in an irrational world, a sentiment with which the soldiers would have strongly identified.

Shoulder Arms bases itself around Chaplin training to be a soldier somewhere in the Western Front. He is repeatedly ordered to the front but this is impossible because physically, attempts to move himself make him sink into the morass of mud surrounding him. Eventually, he disguises himself as a tree and blunders around in No-Mans Land. The film ends when he finally manages to confront and capture a party of Germans, only to wake up and find he is still training in the boot camp. Chaplin’s humour owes a lot to Bairnsfather: the comic scenes being extremely reminiscent of those depicted in the "Ole Bill" cartoons. Chaplin obviously found it difficult to separate the sentimental from his comedic depiction of the war, but like Bairnsfather, this is possibly another reason for the film’s success amongst the troops. The pathos and helplessness of Chaplin’s character was another appealing aspect; one of the key incidents being when Chaplin reads a letter over another privates’ shoulders as he lacks any correspondence of his own.

Shoulder Arms is an extraordinary piece of filmmaking in that it successfully captures the ennui and frustration at the end of the war and renders it farcical in a way that was appreciated universally. Although Chaplin’s technique is now seen as outmoded and not particularly amusing, his films struck a chord with the soldiers who appreciated his buffoonery as an exciting and amusing method of escapism from the theatre of the war. Chaplin’s humour has been long surpassed; the Halliwell’s Film Guide describing it as "A comedy which meant a great deal at the time of its release but now provides precious little to laugh at." (11^th edition, 1995, Harper Collins) However, it is important to remember that cinema was still in it’s inception, and although we do not find any of Chaplin’s comedy funny now, that does not meant that it did not have cultural value at the time of the war.