Charlie Chaplin (Oxon.)

After celebrating his 73rd birthday at a salmon-fishing retreat in Ireland, Charlie Chaplin went home last week to the quiet north shore of Lake Geneva, where--both inwardly and outwardly--he has mellowed and found peace of mind. The great comedian stoops a bit. His hair is flashing white.

His pocketcomb mustache is, of course, long since gone. But his eyes have the same wistful sparkle they showed when he was eating the shoe in The Gold Rush; his life seems to be about half over, no more.

But he is not the same old Charlie Chaplin; ten years in Switzerland have changed him a great deal. His outrageous temper is all but gone. His tirades against the U.S. are now infrequent. The headlines he once made for everything from the Great Paternity Suit to Tax Problems to accepting a Kremlin-sponsored "peace prize" (thumb at his nose, fingers pointing west) have vanished, not to be replaced by others. Oxford is about to give him an honorary degree; so is the University of Durham.

Separate Planes. With his wife Oona and his huge family, Chaplin lives in the village of Vevey in a 15-room villa called Manoir de Ban, staffed by 13 servants, including two nannies. From its 69 acres of grass and gardens, the Chaplins have a panoptic view of Lake Geneva and the Mont Blanc range. They seldom go out to mingle with the Swiss, whom Charlie calls "those natives." (Englishman that he is, he has never learned the local French.) But visitors of all sorts make pilgrimages to Manoir de Ban--from old Hollywood cronies to such distinguished guests as India's Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru.

When Charlie grows restless, the family travels, usually to Venice, Paris or London, or to the Irish coast, where they have bought a house. Charlie likes to walk the slum streets of London, where he grew up as an orphan. When they travel, the family flies in two or three planes so that no crash could claim all of them.

Charlie's greatest fame in recent years has been his steady siring of children. He has seven by his 36-year-old wife of 18 years*--and she is pregnant again. Oona believes in natural childbirth, a technique she learned with the last baby. Enthusiastically, she declares that all their future children will be delivered by natural childbirth, too. Oona is Charlie's fourth wife, but the first who could manage him.

She has jacketed his whims and quelled his temper. When he walks absentmindedly in the garden, she runs after him with a forgotten topcoat. Loyally, she says she is the only member of the family who thinks Charlie is funny. She talks very little; he never stops. Her fondness for him comes close to worship; she has a closet full of Balenciagas, but she often dresses severely, perhaps to appear nearer her husband's age. Around the house, she wears slacks and sweaters, her hair rubber-banded in a ponytail. Terribly shy, she hates to leave the grounds. Oona is a beautiful woman, with the dark, unfathomed look of her father, Eugene O'Neill.

The children resemble their mother.

Geraldine, 17, has her mother's upswept eyes and her father's grace. A student at London's Royal Ballet School, she got only reluctant permission from Charlie to go there--since he knows all too well the dangers that threaten pretty young girls in show business. Michael, 16, whom Chaplin regards as his artistic heir, goes to Geneva's International School; he speaks very little, and has the brooding look of Eugene O'Neill. Little Eugene Chaplin, 8, is known as Tadpole and is always talking, always in trouble. Charlie is a strict disciplinarian, and all seven children have felt the palm of his hand. They are amiable and well-behaved -- not one sophisticated international brat in the group.

Once, when the Chaplins were indulging their habit of flickering a Chaplin film on the portable screen, ten-year-old Victoria asked: "Is that my grandfather?" Victoria herself never stops acting. If Charlie tells her to laugh, she can howl uproariously; when he tells her to cry, tears well and flow.

No Smoking. Chaplin has much more than his swarm of kids to keep him busy.

He maintains strong control over the global distribution of his countless films.

He is writing his memoirs, which are now all but complete and are only a few paragraphs shorter than the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle; the first volume will be published in London next year. He has gone over the manuscript again and again, tearing up thousands of sheets of paper, never happy with the often hazy images that his memory has supplied. Also, he is supposedly working on a screenplay about an aristocratic steamship passenger and a female stowaway, intending to star his son Sydney. He has also talked of a comedy about space travel. But most of that is idle whimsy. His last film, 1957--3 A King in New York (made in London), was a total critical failure and almost certainly put to death any serious desires Chaplin might have had to do anything else in motion pictures.

Oona and Charlie sleep in twin four-posters. He rises at 10 a.m., has his daily Turkish bath and, in winter, jogs around his property wearing three sweaters and an overcoat. He has taken up skiing, and he falls all over the slopes like a six-year-old, but he is trying hard to conquer the sport. In warm weather, he plays tennis and does calisthenics every day on the lawn. Sometimes he sips bourbon, which he once called "the only good thing America produces," but he never smokes and will not permit visitors to light up in his presence.

Chaplin collects abstract expressionist paintings, but spoofs himself to visitors by explaining: "That's the horrible taste of Charlie Chaplin." Unable to resist his old-master impulse, he mimics everyone who crosses his threshold. When the traveling circus makes its yearly visit to his village, Chaplin takes all the children and reverts to nostalgia: he prances about like his old rubbery-legged self, apes the clowns, and offers them professional advice as well. On these days, light-years shine out of his eyes. At home, like the average American husband, he loves to cook delicious steaks on an outdoor grill.

"He's Loaded." One of the first movie actors to make a million dollars, Chaplin is more than ever a rich man. "He's loaded," says his son Sydney appraisingly.

He has tripled his fortune since he went to Europe, has settled his $700,000 tax debt to the U.S. Government for $425,000 cash. He gets 75% of his income outside the U.S. market and netted $3,000,000 for 1952's Limelight, not counting U.S. royalties. Royalties roll in steadily from his old films, most of which he owns outright. Like many foreign stars living in Switzerland, he pays the Swiss government a flat and fairly nominal yearly sum, and no additional income taxes. He has never lost his penny-conscious regard for money. In fact, although he lives in a country twice as thrifty as Scotland, he is celebrated locally as the biggest tightwad in the canton.

Will Charlie Chaplin ever return to America? He once told a friend: "I would like to go back to show the country to the children." But even if he could renew his visitor's permit (which he turned in nine years ago when the Justice Department threatened an investigation), he would do better to stay where he is, says his son Sydney, adding: "What would he do? Go on the Ed Sullivan Show?"

* Chaplin has two additional sons by his second marriage--both actors. Charles Jr., 36, was married last month to Marta Brown, a nurse. Sydney, also 36, and nine months two days younger than Charles Jr., is married to French Dancer Noelle Adam. Although they seldom saw their father until they were adults, both Sydney and Charles Jr. are genuinely fond of him, and make trips to Europe to see him.

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