‘Buck up – never say die. We’ll get along...’
I guess one of the reasons people avoid silent cinema is that it’s dated. What could the Charlie Chaplin of 1936 have to say that is relevant in today’s crazy world? That’s all well and good until you discover the opening scene of Modern Times and see Chaplin’s beloved Little Tramp character struggling to keep up with the capitalist, work obsessed society in which he finds himself – throwing everything into his job on the ceaseless production line at the expense of his physical and mental health until he (literally) falls headlong into the corporate machine, becoming just another cog in a neverending, cruel entity…
The Little Tramp (Chaplin) tries to survive in the industrial world whilst also building a home with a sweet street urchin (Paulette Goddard) from the wrong side of the tracks. A plot as simple as a plot can be and yet the film is no less compelling for it.
As not only Chaplin’s final silent picture, but also the final major film of the silent era, Modern Times forever stands poised in time, straddling two very different mediums that both come under the slightly inadequate catch all of cinema – for this film, and the rest of Chaplin’s oeuvre, is almost its own beast. His work remains so fresh and innovative, it’s absurd to think that Modern Times with its stunning visuals and timely themes could be nearly 100 years old. Preposterous.
For many, Modern Times is Chaplin’s masterpiece. While it has many moments of genius, I don’t think it’s quite as visually daring as The Gold Rush or as powerful as The Great Dictator (and I still haven’t seen City Lights) but there is no denying that Chaplin’s silent film remains a tour-de-force in both performance and concept.
With Modern Times, Chaplin confirmed once again that he was an utter genius. He stands alone.