Halfway through The Gold Rush, it becomes clear that its main focus is moreso on the main character’s prospect for love than that for countless riches. Sure, this tramp could possibly boast a first-class wardrobe and the finest gourmet dishes, yet what comes to matter most is the human connection that can fill the empty hole in his heart. But he’s no Eugen Sandow.

He’s a smaller, more submissive gentleman than the other burly prospectors and also isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, which becomes an issue when pompous ladies’ man Jack tries to hold him back from Georgia, the woman he’s seeking. Georgia’s no fool, though, as she clearly admires the tramp’s chivalry, warmth, and respect over the ill-mannered folk that have plagued her life. She’s a reflection of our similar feelings as an audience, as we recognize the stark contrast in the tramp’s positive qualities and sympathize with him all the more for it. The tramp’s attempts at love and wealth are told through ingenious slapstick and classic wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time scenarios, including almost starving to death in a cabin with a wanted fugitive and deluded prospector who thinks he’s edible livestock, surviving a cliffhanger (literally), trying to belt his sagging pants with an active dog leash, and taking the role of hero to defend Georgia from Jack’s attempts on her.

Despite the film’s goofy and over-the-top nature, it never detriments the story because Charlie Chaplin locates and utilizes the universality of it: The Gold Rush is a tribute to the little guys out there who feel that their voices and actions can’t make their way through the crowd of those bigger and more powerful than them. Through its endearing romance and eccentric protagonist, it inspires them to continue to do good and keep fighting their way through the blizzard of adversities, as it will bring sure love and satisfaction in return.