Charlie Chaplin Films Pt. 2:
Modern Times: Charlie
Chaplin plays ‘A Factory Worker’ (really The Tramp in his swansong), who ends
up losing his mind from the overly repetitious nature of his assembly line job,
working for a mechanised factory overseen by a decidedly Orwellian employer.
After his nervous breakdown, he is sent to a mental hospital, he emerges some
time later only to mistakenly be viewed as a commie agitator when he
inadvertently walks into a demonstration. He is thusly imprisoned, and once
emerging, he fears the outside world and tries to get back in! And that’s when
he meets the homeless and depressed Gamin (Paulette Goddard), falls in love,
and they try their best to make it through life’s ups and downs together.
Easier said than done when we’re talking about The Great Depression.
When
I heard the basic idea behind this 1936 silent film (largely silent, at any
rate) from writer-director-composer-star Charlie Chaplin, I was worried that
this would be his Luddite/philistine opus by a filmmaker stubbornly refusing to
adapt to change and trying to find excuses for himself. Thankfully, Chaplin’s
message here is more complex than simply being anti-mechanisation, and in fact,
not only is his message beautiful, it’s also still relevant today. I honestly
expected this one to be pretty dated, but it’s actually kinda timeless. It’s
about how the mechanisation of society can almost turn overworked and
underpaid employees into machines, losing whatever makes them uniquely and
distinctly human. More than that, it’s Chaplin yet again dealing with
socioeconomic issues to show the pressures of ‘modern’ living, as machines put
human workers on the unemployment (and poverty) line during The Great
Depression. He also makes a pointed comparison between the dehumanisation of
factory work/technology, with the rigid, impersonal prison life. I still think
that by making this point through a silent film in a sound era does make
Chaplin seem a touch philistine-ish, but it’d be too simplistic to suggest that
he’s entirely anti-modernity. He just sees some inherent flaws.
Along
with “The Great Dictator”, I think this is Chaplin’s best film, and if
you’re looking to start your journey into his work, this might be the best one
to start with. It’s by far his most accessible film. It’s certainly immediately
his best-looking film, with wonderfully imposing sets for the rather art deco
factory scenes. The music by Chaplin himself is excellent, and probably his
best work.
There’s
lots of great moments here. There’s a brilliant bit where he falls down the
conveyor belt into a maze of gears and wheels, showing off terrific set design
and lots of imagination. An adorable Pekingese manages to steal one scene with
a stomach-rumbling Chaplin, which is very cute and amusing. There’s a funny and
almost surreal moment when Chaplin is milking a cow that just happened to stop
by his back door. Chaplin’s impish physicality is charming, especially in one
roller-skating scene inside a store. And whether it’s a silent film in a sound
era or not, how many films from the 1930s feature a frequently incarcerated man
as a romantic hero? Only Chaplin would do such a thing, I think. I’ll happily
stand corrected, though. The ending is positively gorgeous, by the way.
In
addition to being Chaplin’s best film, this feels like the film he had been
working towards perfecting his whole career. So it’s a shame that leading lady
Paulette Goddard ain’t no Edna Purviance. In fact, she and the romantic aspect
(a rerun of previous efforts, really) are the weakest thing here. Whilst
Chaplin tones down the previously rather annoying facial mugging here, the same
cannot be said for Goddard. She’s awfully overripe, like she knows she’s in a silent
film but has never actually seen one and mugs even more mercilessly than silent
actors tended to. Absolutely nauseating, she has two modes; Smiley or demonic,
angry face. No subtlety, not even for a silent film. Instead of playing a poor
girl, she plays a demonically possessed, bipolar girl.
Overall,
a beautifully made, funny, interesting, charming, and ultimately timeless film
that everyone must see at least once in their life. Even if you’re not a
Chaplin fan (I’m not, for instance), you can’t dislike this film.
Rating:
B+
The Great Dictator: Set
in the fictional country of Tomania, Charlie Chaplin plays two roles, a simple
Jewish barber and Tomania’s Hitler-esque dictator named Hynkel. The first
(essentially The Tramp, but unnamed) ends up fighting for his country in WW1,
before a plane crash with a wounded comrade (Reginald Gardiner) lands him in
the hospital for a very long time. He returns home to find that the country has
now changed under Hynkel, and his fellow Jews are being persecuted. A
strong-willed young Jewish woman (Paulette Goddard) misinterprets the amnesiac
barber’s ignorance for political defiance when he takes umbrage at the ‘storm
troopers’ painting ‘JEW’ on his shop front window. The only thing stopping the
barber from being arrested is that one of the high-ranking Nazis is his former
pilot comrade helps him out. Meanwhile, Hynkel (who looks remarkably like the
dictator, a detail that will later come into play) is plotting an attack on
Osterlich, and the barber’s war comrade is falling out of favour with the
madman. An Oscar-nominated Jack Oakie plays the dictatorial leader of
neighbouring Bacteria, who is just as comically self-absorbed as Hynkel. Henry
Daniell plays Garbitsch, the disdainful Minister for Propaganda.
One
of the most controversial films ever made, this 1940 film from writer/director
Charlie Chaplin isn’t a terribly easy film to stomach. In hindsight, Chaplin
felt had he known the true and full extent of the horrors of Nazi Germany, he
wouldn’t have made the film the way he did. The scenes concerning the persecuted
Jews are in some ways regrettable (though Roberto Benigni managed to find a way
to perfect such things in his wonderful “Life is Beautiful” many years
later), but the rest of the subject matter plays much more palatably than it
might’ve between say, 1941-1950. Making fun of Nazis is stock-standard these
days, so none of that bothered me. In fact, the more you make fun of something
sinister, the less power that sinister force has, if you ask me. Even the Jewish
ghetto stuff didn’t bother me, seeing it in 2014, I was simply able to see why
it might’ve been extremely controversial at the time (in the minds of both Jews and those with anti-Semitic
attitudes), and isn’t the strongest part of the film.
Chaplin,
whatever naiveté he may have shown in some parts of this film, deserves praise
nonetheless for being one of the first to ridicule Hitler and his brethren. The
laughs here come in early, with a very funny gag involving Chaplin’s soldier
being tasked with checking on a malfunctioning bomb. The weapons these soldiers
have are very amusing, and very weird. In 2014, there’s absolutely nothing
wrong with making jokes about this kind of stuff. I mean, once you’ve seen “The
Producers” and “Hogan’s Heroes”, the flood gates are pretty much
open (If this isn’t one of Mel Brooks’ favourite films, I’d be shocked). The
only time I felt the film was truly a bit on the nose, was the character of
Herring (a substitute for Goehring, no doubt) claiming with glee that they had
just invented a gas to kill everyone. Yikes. But for the most part, this
definitely plays better today than it would have in the 40s, and Chaplin
certainly deserves credit for speaking out against Hitler and the Reich.
The
interior set design in particular deserves to be singled out, it’s incredible,
almost hyperreal. Chaplin finally talks in this one, and hearing his voice, one
can actually understand why he resisted sound for so long. He doesn’t have the
most memorable or unique voice, whereas as The Tramp, his silence was pretty
much what set him apart. Chaplin’s dual performances here two of the best
performances he ever gave. Chaplin’s second role of the Hitler-esque dictator
(playing off the obvious physical similarity between Hitler and Chaplin’s
Tramp) provides some of the film’s best and funniest moments as he hilariously
lampoons Hitler’s psychotic speechifyin’ and mannerisms. You can tell he’s just
throwing in random words in like sauerkraut. There’s also funny word play with
character names like Henry Daniell’s propaganda minister being named Garbitsch,
or the translator being named Schtick. Is there a doctor named Schadenfreude
there too, I wondered?
One
of the film’s comedic highlights is a bizarre scene in a plane that has some
truly unusual gravitational forces at work. It’s one of the cleverest things
Chaplin ever came up with, I think. Also funny is the scene where Hynkel and
Jack Oakie’s Mussolini stand-in attempting to gain the advantage in a photo op.
Even better is when they try to do the same when in barber’s chairs. Priceless,
as in this film Chaplin reduces fascism to gibberish and fascists into
insecure, neurotic, blustering fools. The famous globe dancing scene could’ve
come off horribly wrong had the balloon not burst at the end. As such, it’s one
of the greatest scenes in cinematic history. Talk about tightrope walking.
I
could suggest that the film needs a lot more from Daniell’s Garbitsch, but that
might just be the Henry Daniell fan in me. Seeing him in something like this is
in and of itself very funny, even when he’s the straight man. Paulette Goddard,
meanwhile, is her usual terrible self here. She’s just too ham-fisted. I was
also surprised that the film really only made a thing of the resemblance
between the Jewish barber and the dictator in the last quarter of the film.
Going in, that’s what I thought the main plot was about, and I do think more
emphasis on that earlier on would’ve been beneficial. But really, I’m
nitpicking.
The
film’s definitely a huge departure from previous Chaplin films, not just
because it’s a ‘talkie’, but the narrative is really strong, too. In a way,
it’s typical Chaplin, sticking up for the underdogs and the underprivileged, so
it’s not like he’s making fun of the Jews or their plight. And even scenes like
the goose-stepping prisoners made me laugh, those with closer ties to the
geopolitics of the time might be less amused. Chaplin’s final speech (a tad
treacly, to be honest) shows that at the very least, he had good intentions
here. His only crime is being ill-informed on matters that he probably could
never have properly imagined at the time (The film began production in 1939).
All I can say is that I personally think it’s a fascinating and highly
entertaining film, even with some of its more dubious elements.
Whatever
you make of the film’s political/socioeconomic content, it’s undoubtedly
fascinating and pretty close to his best film, behind only “Modern Times”.
I’m always wary of films that try to comment on situations that are still
happening at the time the film was released, but this certainly holds up less
offensively and less foolishly than some poorly-judged war films I could name (“The
Green Berets”, for instance). At least to an outsider like me, it does. It
strongly divided audiences at the time and for a good many years after. It was,
however, his biggest box-office hit, so at least a lot of people saw it and it earned five Oscar noms,
including Best Picture and Best Actor. I think time has ultimately been kind to
the film. It’s an imperfect but unforgettable film, and I’m glad the film
exists. It’s pretty brave, and at least Chaplin was trying to and willing to
say something about Hitler and fascism/Nazism.
Rating:
B+
The Gold Rush: Charlie
Chaplin is yet again The Tramp, now in The Yukon during the Gold Rush of the
late 1890s. He walks into a cabin owned by the rather unscrupulous and gruff
Black Larsen, who is none too pleased to have an interloper, and is even
angrier when another prospector named Big Jim (Mack Swain) enters the cabin.
Eventually, Big Jim manages to subdue the surly mountain man, and the trio
attempt to coexist, as there is a blizzard outside blocking their exit. Georgia
Hale plays a young woman whom The Tramp later encounters and falls for.
One
of Charlie Chaplin’s best silent films, this 1925 film was re-edited by Chaplin
in the 40s, with Chaplin adding his own narration to the film. Some have criticised
this aspect, but when you watch the film, it really does play exactly the same
role that title cards played in Chaplin’s other silents, so who the hell cares?
The people who complain about it are insane or pigheaded to a ridiculous degree
in this instance. It ain’t George Lucas levels of bastardisation, let alone on
the level of ‘colourised’ B&W films. Calm down, everyone! I think the film
does come up a tad short of his two best films (“Modern Times” and “The
Great Dictator”), but only just. It ends a little abruptly and the romance
for me is kept to the sidelines for too long (An issue that was even more
problematic in “City Lights”). I also found that these mountain men
characters were a bit interchangeable. But still, this is a very fine film,
both funny and sad, as was often the case with Chaplin.
Although
it might seem a bit odd to find The Tramp out in gold mining/mountain
territory, it’s an interesting story (a stronger one than “City Lights”,
though falling into some of the same traps), and the setting allows Chaplin to
play on his usual themes of socioeconomic hardship and starvation. He has two
classic comedy set-pieces here; The ‘dance of the rolls’ is one of the best
things you’ll ever see in your life, even if you’ve already seen Johnny Depp do
an homage in “Benny & Joon”. The funniest moment by far, though is
when the cabin The Tramp and his mountain man companion are staying in gets
blown right to the edge of a cliff during a blizzard and they sleep right
through it. Classic stuff. I was less amused by the celebrated scene where the
starving men eat a boot, which I found lame and stupid. It is, however, amusing
when The Tramp offers to cook the other one. Even funnier is a subsequent
moment when the mountain man, in deep starvation, hallucinates that The Tramp
is a chicken. Funny, cute, and…just strange.
This
stuff really ought not to be funny, but Chaplin gets away with a lot of it. But
it’s not just laughs to be had here, if you don’t tear up when ‘Auld Lang Syne’
is sung in “It’s A Wonderful Life”, it might cause tears to well up
here. The camera catching all those starved, weathered faces is unforgettable.
A
really fine film, and better than say “City Lights”, I nonetheless think
this one’s just a tad below Chaplin’s two absolute best films. Others consider
it his finest film.
Rating:
B
Limelight: Charlie
Chaplin is Calvero, a former music hall comedian of some repute, now a
washed-up drunk. One night he finds a young woman (Claire Bloom) in the same
apartment building has collapsed, after a failed suicide attempt. He takes her
up to his apartment and helps her recover. Soon after the landlady has rented
out the young woman’s room, leaving her nowhere to go. Calvero lets the woman,
Thereza, stay for a while, hoping to also keep her spirits up and show her that
life is worth living. In the process, he finds himself the courage to overcome
his fear of failure and attempts to make a career comeback, though he knows
that there is much more left of Thereza’s career than his own (Hence the quote
at the beginning of the film; ‘The glamour of limelight, from which age must
pass as youth enters’). And despite a big age difference, Thereza (a ballerina)
develops romantic feelings for the older, dishevelled man. He in turn tries to
encourage her to reacquaint herself with the poor composer (Sydney Chaplin, Charlie’s
son) she helped out a while back whilst working as a clerk in a music store,
and quietly pined for. Nigel Bruce plays a producer, Norman Lloyd is a stage
manager, and Buster Keaton turns up as another vaudeville comedian. Look for a
young Geraldine Chaplin as a street urchin early on in the film (The
distinct-looking actress is hard not to notice).
Released
in 1952, this wasn’t the last Charlie Chaplin film, but it very much plays like
the beloved star-director-screenwriter-composer bowing out, hopefully on a high
note, certainly an autobiographical one. It’s a flawed film, undoubtedly, but
also in my view an extremely underrated one. In fact, if it weren’t for the
fact that it’s criminally overlong and overly indulgent, it might’ve proved his
masterwork. Trim it down to about, say, 100 minutes or so, and I’d truly
treasure this film. In its current form, it’s a hair below his two best films “Modern
Times” and “The Great Dictator”, but really only a single hair.
There’s
certainly a lot to appreciate here, especially the performance by Claire Bloom,
who actually outshines Chaplin. One of the most beautiful women to have ever
lived (nice pins, too!), Bloom is an instant worry here as a most despondent
young former dancer (albeit absolutely incandescent). There is almost nothing
sadder than a suicidal, beautiful woman, I think. I’ve seen Bloom give the
occasional poor performance (“The Outrage”, in which only Howard da
Silva and William Shatner emerged unscathed), but very, very rarely. She was an
extremely underrated actress, who should’ve been nominated for an Oscar here, I
think it’s the best performance of her entire career. She and Mr. Chaplin (who
I only recognised after about 30 seconds, dude got old!) make for an excellent
team here. Chaplin (who sounds remarkably like James Mason if you ask me) is a
tad hammy when portraying the drunk side of his character (he borders on Sir
Les Patterson, actually), but is otherwise rather good here. In fact, he
probably deserved an Oscar nomination here, too (He didn’t get one, but he did
actually win an Oscar for his own music score for this film, the film’s only
nomination let alone win…in 1972! Apparently it wasn’t shown in LA until then).
I’m less surprised to find that Chaplin is a solid dramatic actor than I am him
being a good actor in ‘talkies’, even after having already seen him in “The
Great Dictator”. Almost all of his films had their dramatic underpinning,
after all. There really is something truly touching about the central
relationship here. When one needs cheering up or emotional support, the other
gives it. It’s also interesting to see the lovely Ms. Bloom potentially having
relations with two generations of Chaplins here, as Charles’ son Sydney plays a
potential romantic suitor.
Look
out for character actor Nigel Bruce in a supporting turn. God bless him, he has
no idea about subtlety, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. The rather
underappreciated, long-serving Norman Lloyd is always an asset to any film and
does solid work here. I’ve always been more of a Buster Keaton fan than a
Chaplin fan, so it’s a bit of a shame that although wonderful, Keaton ends up
rather wasted here. I would’ve preferred more scenes with him, and less of
nearly everything else to be honest. I certainly think that at 2 ¼ hours, it’s
just too much, and no matter how good a lot of it is, it can’t help but drag at
times. I would’ve cut out most of the performance scenes to be frank, or at
least cut them down considerably. Pretty or not, the ballet is interminable to
endure. The big comic set-piece between Keaton and Chaplin isn’t the great
comedy moment you want it to be, but it’s a great cinematic moment, a milestone. It’s Keaton and Chaplin together for
the first and last time. So I certainly wouldn’t cut that scene out or trim it down. But Chaplin’s ‘flea’ skit? It’s
stupid and goes on forever. I know he’s meant to play a washed-up vaudeville
comedian, but that thing was awful.
The
final scene is overly indulgent and pretentious…and I don’t give a flying
monkey butt. It’s still unforgettable, and kinda perfect to end the film on. It
just feels right. Sad, melancholic, and deserving of a wider audience than has
thus far likely seen it. This is a good film that could’ve been a masterpiece
were it not so long and slow. It’s too much movie. Such a shame, but you still
must see this one, even if it’s not Chaplin’s best film. Not a film for cynics
or the unsentimental, but that’s their
problem. Excellent B&W cinematography by Karl Struss (“Sunrise”, “The
Great Dictator”) deserves much praise. Interesting that Robert Aldrich
(director of “Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte” and “The Dirty Dozen”)
was an Assistant Director here, his last such assignment before advancing fully
into the director’s chair the following year.
Rating:
B+
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