Blogpost by Dr. Mariana Sabino-Salazar „Chaplin: The Spirit of the Tramp“ (2025): A Romaniness Balancing Act
In a striking sequence of The Circus (1928), Chaplin balances on a tightrope, a visual metaphor for his effort to reconcile with his Romani identity. Based on the same idea, the poster of the documentary Chaplin: The Spirit of the Tramp (2025), directed by Charles Chaplin’s granddaughter Carmen, presents a still of the last scene where Charles’ son Michael walks barefoot on a seawall. Fame and wealth allowed the Chaplins to rediscover and celebrate their Romani roots, while many ethnic Romanies in multiracial societies strategically mask their identity to avoid stigmatization.
Use of terminology
Chaplin, the Spirit of the Tramp weaves together family photographic and film material, press footage, and celebrity interviews that revolve around Romani/‘Gypsy’ identity. The evidence for the Chaplins’ Romani ancestry is a letter found in Charles’ locked drawer near his bed – a secret so well-kept that his children could only access it after their mother died. It was sent to Charles after his autobiography was published in 1964. In the letter, Jack Hill, a member of the Gypsy, Roma, and Traveller (GRT) community, declared: “You don’t know where you were born and who you are.” The ominous letter only confirms what the Chaplins had heard from their dad: they had Romani blood. The family member who most openly identifies with Romani / ‘Gypsy’ culture is Michael, the eldest son of Charles’s last marriage.
Michael Chaplin serves as the film’s narrator and becomes an extension of Charles. Similarly, Michael’s granddaughter Uma appears as a succession in the Romani bloodline. In this documentary, Michael’s troubled past and identity formation become as relevant as Charles’s ancestry. The extreme privilege Michael was brought up in came with a price: his dad, who was raised in abject poverty, toughened him up by asking too much from him. Michael ran away, dropped out of school, married young (17), and had a large family of seven children. But we do not know whether Michael’s lack of ambition, profound mysticism, and love for music and simple food were inspired by the countercultural movement of the 60s, his desire to contradict his dad, or the 1/16 Romani he claims to be.
The documentary provides an opportunity for viewers to question the limits of Romani ancestry and to discuss whether people with Romani great-great-grandparents can represent and speak for other ethnic Roma, and whether that representation is contingent on fame. According to Charles, he was 1/8th Romani, which made Michael 1/16th, Carmen 1/32nd, and Uma 1/64th. Some of these numbers prominently appear in the film together with a family tree to prove that their Romani claim is so strong that it cannot be overlooked, much less denied. What seems problematic about this documentary is the relationship it establishes between bloodline and moral and cultural essence. Michael appears as the living tramp that Charles interprets in his films: the unproductive misfit who cannot synchronize with factory rhythms, who wanders and daydreams, and who, as an antihero, introduces friction into the system.
However, this reading is controversial –while some individuals and organizations view it as an anti-Romani message, others perceive it as a conquest of space and a reaffirmation of the Romani artist trope. Either way, what is at stake is that expressing anybody’s percentage of Romaniness in terms of family tree diagrams forces us to recall Nazi Germany’s racial profiling. It is no different from eugenics’ tenets, which imply that moral worth is genetically transmissible and that individuality is limited by heritage. For the Chaplins, this narrative explains Michael’s “failure,” and it promotes the idea that Romanies are a degenerate group and that their “inadaptability” is not a result of institutional incentives (or the lack thereof) but an innate characteristic.
For the Third Reich, the racial cleansing of the ‘Zigeuner’ extended to the fourth generation. Under that regime, Michael, who uses the film to highlight his Romani legacy, would most likely be trying to hide it. Even if Carmen and Uma fell outside of it, they could have received the label of “living in a ‘Gypsy’ manner,” (asozial or arbeitsscheu), which would have put their lives in serious danger. Of course, the Third Reich came to an end, but discrimination against Romani people persists.
For the famous, identifying as Romani is a distinction that promotes their artistic career; it implies innate creative and interpretative abilities and heightened emotional responses. Depending on ethnic makeup, financial possibilities, and connections with Romani communities, people can even become “more Romani.” Although in some countries (like Germany), anybody is free to claim minority status, in most Romani communities, “unknown” members must pass through a screening process and are, in a way, “claimed back.” Films like The Spirit of the Tramp confirm that it is considerably easier to be claimed back for well-known, wealthy artists and dead individuals. While for the average Romani individual in the European Union, ethnic identification will most likely be attached to prejudice.
This film presents a valuable insider’s view into a greater-than-life icon, a consummate genius who was embraced by ordinary folks as one of them. Some scholars and activists think that it should have delved into the sociological conditions of GRT communities, their evictions, harassment, and poverty. Except that Carmen’s family’s loose connection with Romani life would have made interviews in the Black Patch feel like a forced pastiche. Instead, this is a visually and musically attractive, multi-sited documentary of what it means for the Chaplins to be ‘Gypsy.’ It allows the viewer to reflect on how their position allows them to promote their ‘Gypsyness’ while refusing to engage with Romani political issues.
About the author
Mariana Sabino-Salazar is a postdoctoral researcher at the Institute of Ethnology, Czech Academy of Sciences. She earned a Ph.D. in Iberian and Latin American Literatures and Cultures from the University of Texas at Austin. Her research focuses on diasporic populations from a trans-Atlantic perspective, with ongoing projects on ethnic-shifting in Brazil and Romani representation in Iberian and Latin American cinema, literature, and media. She has published articles and book chapters and co-edited the Latin American issue of Romano Dzaniben (2021). In 2022, she was a Fulbright grantee researching the ‘Gypsy’ stereotype in Brazilian popular culture. Former head archivist at the Romani Archives and Documentation Center (2013-2019) and current consultant for the United Nations’ Romani Memory Map, she is interested in counter-archives and counter-mapping. She has curated exhibits in Brazil and the United States, utilizing participatory action research and art-based methodologies.
