Its hugely ironic that the political sentiments of Modern Times, which arrives in a new package containing the film on both Blu-ray and DVD, convinced the House of Un-American Activities Committee that Chaplin was a communist. Looking back at the 1936 film now it merely looks hugely sentimental, particularly as the politics are seeped in mawkishness and romance. That said, it also contains some dazzling sequences, superb design and great jokes, and it certainly deserves its place in the history of cinema.
It starts off as a satire, a rather gentle one, on factory life and capitalism. Chaplins factory worker is armed with two spanners, with which his only job is to tweak two bolts as they endlessly pass on a production line. The repetitive nature of this is brilliantly spoofed by Chaplins physical jerking, and it of course ends with him almost demolishing the factory. The sequence in which he is eaten by the machinery is featured in many an Art Deco exhibition, and the design is a marvel.
After this technically marvellous opening the films narrative gets more fractured, as Chaplins tramp, homeless and unemployed, struggles to get along. He falls for Goddards poor gamin, who survives by stealing bananas from the docklands and has a perfect hairdo and cheekbones despite having no money or home. He enters prison, where he accidentally snorts cocaine, saves the Governor and gets a job as a night porter in a department store. There Chaplin reveals his real skill on roller skates, skating blindfolded right next to a sheer drop, much to the gamins horror.
They end up in a shack next to the factory, which to them seems like paradise, even though the furniture and roof is falling apart, and Chaplin gets another shot at a job in a factory.
Modern Times is clearly politically naive to say the least, and Chaplin himself could easily point to a scene in the film which sums up his political views. His tramp turns a corner, picks up a fallen flag to return it, and suddenly realises he is leading a march of starving unemployed men by accident. A Bolshevik he clearly wasnt, yet he believed his little tramp could sum up the plight of the poor and unemployed in the 1930s. His final plea to his girl, “Buck up – never say die! We’ll get along,” now looks hopelessly flimsy, and yet the film is still worth watching for so many reasons.
This was supposed to be Chaplins first full sound film, but all of the dialogue comes through mechanical means through a videophone, a radio or a record player. There are some sound effects, but the rest of the dialogue is through intertitles. Indeed it seems as though Chaplin is using sound as part of his theme of mechanisation ruining human contact. The film certainly looks splendid, especially the brilliantly designed factory scenes, and the transfer here is crisp and perfectly in focus after its restoration.
Some of Chaplins sight gags are truly inspired, while some, especially where he gurns directly at the camera, are irritating, but for a film made in 1936 its still remarkably fresh and in parts genuinely funny.
Chaplins place in the history of cinema is cemented, but many fans of cinema will have never have seen his films they are rarely shown on TV any more. This is a perfect place to introduce newcomers to his Little Tramp, and the Dual format edition contains the DVD and Blu-Ray editions.
Overall verdict: A landmark piece of historical cinema that is still great fun to watch, funny and fresh, if you can bear the sentimentality and political naiveté.
Special Features:
Introduction by David Robinson
Deleted scenes
Chaplin karaoke
Trailer reel
Photo gallery
Chaplin Today: Modern Times
Reviewer: Mike Martin