Modern Times. (U.)
Directed by Charles Chaplin.
Starring Charlie Chaplin and Paulette Goddard. Black and white. Out on blu-ray March 14th from the Criterion Collection. 87 mins.
Charlie Chaplin was one of the defining figures of the 20th century: he was its biggest movie star and in terms of global pop culture influence probably only The Beatles and Elvis were comparable. He was all of that while being a painfully annoying, unfunny t***.
Well, that had been my view, bolstered by a general consensus among comedians that Keaton and Lloyd were the real geniuses of the silent era and reinforced by a stony-faced viewing of Chaplin's "classic" The Gold Rush this Christmas. But the recent cinema release of The Real Charlie Chaplin softened my stance a little and now I have to concede that viewing Modern Times was something of a revelation. It is a stone-cold classic: in both a positive and a negative way.
It’s nothing if not bold. In this Chaplin finds himself stuck in a horror vision of the Henry Ford time and motion production line crossed with Orwell’s Big Brother, forced to work hour after hour tightening screws at a furious rate. As a result he suffers severe repetitive strain injury; has an industrial accident that causes a nervous breakdown; is arrested as a communist agitator and accidentally gets high on cocaine. And that’s just the first half-hour.
The film’s most famous images are those early scenes on the production line, particularly that of Chaplin's little tramp being slid through the clogs of the giant machine. These are perhaps the definitive artistic representation of the dehumanisation of industrialised production. It’s exaggerated and cartoony but in a way that universalises the situation without trivialising it. It is though rather broad: it’s indicative of the way in which Modern Times is a classic in the most obvious and straightforward way possible.
After that though the film is a lot looser and wide-ranging with the tramp repeatedly ending up in prison whenever his attempts to try and make it in society fail. That the simple certainty of the jailhouse regime is seen as preferable to the daily struggle of American capitalism is genuinely subversive; all the more so for the casual way the film makes the point.
This was Chaplin’s last appearance as the Little Tramp but not quite his final silent film. Though the talkies had been around for almost a decade, most of this is business as usual for Chaplin. There is something rather shocking, even transgressive, about the moment when we hear the factory boss barking instructions through his Big Brother screen. By 1936 sound was firmly established and the Marx Brothers, WC Fields and Laurel and Hardy had already made some of their best comedies. Chaplin must’ve known that this was just about the last time he’d be able to get away with making a silent but it does add to the film’s classic status, the sense of it being the last magnificent yell of dying beast.
The closing scenes as we finally hear his voice (not speaking but singing) and then him and Goddard defiantly walk off down the road are enormously poignant. Towards the end, Chaplin gets a job as a singing waiter and it's hard to imagine just how thrilling the scene where he gears up to sing must’ve been for the audiences seeing it for the first time in 1936. The sense of anticipation must’ve been immense which make calculated cop-out of having him sing gibberish such an inspired choice.
It’s a film that went a long way to cementing his future troubles. There is the scene with him waving a red flag at the head of a band of striking workers. The plot has him doing this totally inadvertently but it didn't stop the image from being coopted by left-wing causes for decades after. Despite this, the film’s politics aren’t so clear cut. The other main character is the Gamine, (Goddard) the street urchin who has to provide for her younger siblings after their father dies. That is until the social services step in to divide them up and put them into care. If Modern Times was purely left-wing the state acting to care for destitute children would be presented positively, rather than seen as cruel and heavy-handed.
Of course, Chaplin having a relationship with a girl who has escaped from the clutches of the juvenile services is an aspect of the film that doesn’t sit so well with viewers today given Chaplin's real-life preference for very young ladies. To be fair, the relationship seems entirely platonic and Goddard definitely doesn’t look underage. She is one of the film’s great strengths and he treats her as an equal partner in the struggle, rather than an idealised object of desire.
He's still not that funny. (If you want hilarity, check out Chaplin Today in the extras where Belgium neo-realists Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne enthuse over his brilliance – it’s funny because it’s in French.) However graceful and athletic his movement there is something inherently stiff about him and his classic film, but also something undeniably magical.
Specs and features.
Restored 2K-resolution digital transfer, created in collaboration with the Cineteca di Bologna, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition
Audio commentary from 2010 by Charlie Chaplin biographer David Robinson
Two visual essays, by Chaplin historians John Bengtson and Jeffrey Vance
Program from 2010 on the film’s visual and sound effects, with experts Craig Barron and Ben Burtt
Interview from 1992 with Modern Times music arranger David Raksin, plus a selection from the film's original orchestral track
Two segments cut from the film
All at Sea (1933), a home movie by Alistair Cooke featuring Chaplin and actress Paulette Goddard, with a score by Donald Sosin and an interview with Cooke’s daughter, Susan Cooke Kittredge
The Rink (1916), a Chaplin two-reeler
For the First Time (1967), a short Cuban documentary about first-time moviegoers seeing Modern Times
Chaplin Today: “Modern Times” (2003), a program with filmmakers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne
Three theatrical trailers
English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
PLUS: An essay by film critic Saul Austerlitz and, for the Blu-ray edition, a piece by film scholar Lisa Stein that includes excerpts from Chaplin's writing about his 1930s world tour.
Directed by Charles Chaplin.
Starring Charlie Chaplin and Paulette Goddard. Black and white. Out on blu-ray March 14th from the Criterion Collection. 87 mins.
Charlie Chaplin was one of the defining figures of the 20th century: he was its biggest movie star and in terms of global pop culture influence probably only The Beatles and Elvis were comparable. He was all of that while being a painfully annoying, unfunny t***.
Well, that had been my view, bolstered by a general consensus among comedians that Keaton and Lloyd were the real geniuses of the silent era and reinforced by a stony-faced viewing of Chaplin's "classic" The Gold Rush this Christmas. But the recent cinema release of The Real Charlie Chaplin softened my stance a little and now I have to concede that viewing Modern Times was something of a revelation. It is a stone-cold classic: in both a positive and a negative way.
It’s nothing if not bold. In this Chaplin finds himself stuck in a horror vision of the Henry Ford time and motion production line crossed with Orwell’s Big Brother, forced to work hour after hour tightening screws at a furious rate. As a result he suffers severe repetitive strain injury; has an industrial accident that causes a nervous breakdown; is arrested as a communist agitator and accidentally gets high on cocaine. And that’s just the first half-hour.
The film’s most famous images are those early scenes on the production line, particularly that of Chaplin's little tramp being slid through the clogs of the giant machine. These are perhaps the definitive artistic representation of the dehumanisation of industrialised production. It’s exaggerated and cartoony but in a way that universalises the situation without trivialising it. It is though rather broad: it’s indicative of the way in which Modern Times is a classic in the most obvious and straightforward way possible.
After that though the film is a lot looser and wide-ranging with the tramp repeatedly ending up in prison whenever his attempts to try and make it in society fail. That the simple certainty of the jailhouse regime is seen as preferable to the daily struggle of American capitalism is genuinely subversive; all the more so for the casual way the film makes the point.
This was Chaplin’s last appearance as the Little Tramp but not quite his final silent film. Though the talkies had been around for almost a decade, most of this is business as usual for Chaplin. There is something rather shocking, even transgressive, about the moment when we hear the factory boss barking instructions through his Big Brother screen. By 1936 sound was firmly established and the Marx Brothers, WC Fields and Laurel and Hardy had already made some of their best comedies. Chaplin must’ve known that this was just about the last time he’d be able to get away with making a silent but it does add to the film’s classic status, the sense of it being the last magnificent yell of dying beast.
The closing scenes as we finally hear his voice (not speaking but singing) and then him and Goddard defiantly walk off down the road are enormously poignant. Towards the end, Chaplin gets a job as a singing waiter and it's hard to imagine just how thrilling the scene where he gears up to sing must’ve been for the audiences seeing it for the first time in 1936. The sense of anticipation must’ve been immense which make calculated cop-out of having him sing gibberish such an inspired choice.
It’s a film that went a long way to cementing his future troubles. There is the scene with him waving a red flag at the head of a band of striking workers. The plot has him doing this totally inadvertently but it didn't stop the image from being coopted by left-wing causes for decades after. Despite this, the film’s politics aren’t so clear cut. The other main character is the Gamine, (Goddard) the street urchin who has to provide for her younger siblings after their father dies. That is until the social services step in to divide them up and put them into care. If Modern Times was purely left-wing the state acting to care for destitute children would be presented positively, rather than seen as cruel and heavy-handed.
Of course, Chaplin having a relationship with a girl who has escaped from the clutches of the juvenile services is an aspect of the film that doesn’t sit so well with viewers today given Chaplin's real-life preference for very young ladies. To be fair, the relationship seems entirely platonic and Goddard definitely doesn’t look underage. She is one of the film’s great strengths and he treats her as an equal partner in the struggle, rather than an idealised object of desire.
He's still not that funny. (If you want hilarity, check out Chaplin Today in the extras where Belgium neo-realists Luc and Jean-Pierre Dardenne enthuse over his brilliance – it’s funny because it’s in French.) However graceful and athletic his movement there is something inherently stiff about him and his classic film, but also something undeniably magical.
Specs and features.
Restored 2K-resolution digital transfer, created in collaboration with the Cineteca di Bologna, with uncompressed monaural soundtrack on the Blu-ray edition
Audio commentary from 2010 by Charlie Chaplin biographer David Robinson
Two visual essays, by Chaplin historians John Bengtson and Jeffrey Vance
Program from 2010 on the film’s visual and sound effects, with experts Craig Barron and Ben Burtt
Interview from 1992 with Modern Times music arranger David Raksin, plus a selection from the film's original orchestral track
Two segments cut from the film
All at Sea (1933), a home movie by Alistair Cooke featuring Chaplin and actress Paulette Goddard, with a score by Donald Sosin and an interview with Cooke’s daughter, Susan Cooke Kittredge
The Rink (1916), a Chaplin two-reeler
For the First Time (1967), a short Cuban documentary about first-time moviegoers seeing Modern Times
Chaplin Today: “Modern Times” (2003), a program with filmmakers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne
Three theatrical trailers
English subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing
PLUS: An essay by film critic Saul Austerlitz and, for the Blu-ray edition, a piece by film scholar Lisa Stein that includes excerpts from Chaplin's writing about his 1930s world tour.
