Documentary News Letter (1947-1949)

106 DOCUMENTARY NEWS LETTER LE CANARD ENCHAINE has kindly given us permission to reprint this interesting article on MONSIEUR VERDOIIX or CHARLIE CHAPLIN versus THE REST New York — April i have just been seeing Monsieur Verdoux, the new Charlie Chaplin film. Or should I say the new Chaplin film, for the little man with the bowler hat and bamboo cane isn't in it? Instead, there is a new character, a very elegant gentleman with silvery hair. The moustache alone reminds us of the old Charlie. The story of Monsieur Verdoux — a Comedy of Murders is simple. For 30 years, Verdoux, a humble French bank clerk, has looked after other people's money. One day he gets the sack. The worm turns. Verdoux has an invalid wife and a small son. He must have money. To get it, he commits bigamy with rich women whom he immediately kills off. Posing first as an explorer, then as an Army captain, and finally as an antique dealer, he seduces his female victims with a flowery and passionate eloquence. Don Juan lives again — metempsychosed into Crippen! And then one day Monsieur Verdoux's house of cards collapses. His invalid wife dies; so does his son. He is hammered on the Stock Exchange, Sick of it all, he throws in his hand, and gives himself up, to justice and the hangman. Is there any comedy? Yes, of course. There is the scene where he counts the takings from the wives he has killed, wetting his finger and flicking the notes rapidly as bank clerks do, the world over. There is the scene when he makes desperate ' efforts to drown one of his wives, and it is she who finally rescues him from a watery grave. And another, when he makes a passionate avowal of love — with a cup of tea in his hand. But these moments are rare. There are not many laughs. On the contrary, it is a film of such bitterness and melancholy that it took my breath away. What have the American critics said? 'We just can't recognize our old friend Charlie.' "What has happened to the little guy in the bowler hat?' "Way down, it's the same Charlie, but this time he's really old, grown disillusioned and cynical. No more moonlight and roses. Things have got too tough.' To which Monsieur Verdoux bitterly replies 'The world is a jungle.' When Monsieur Verdoux appears before the judge who condemns him to death, he makes a little speech. 'The prosecution has credited me with intelligence. Thank you. For 30 years I used this intelligence of mine for honest ends. And then suddenly, one day, they didn't want it. You call me a criminal? On the contrary, I'm only an amateur. The mass murder of women and children is done scientifically these days.' And he adds mockingly — 'See you soon, gentlemen, verj soon.' A reporter who comes to interview him in his cells suggests that 'Crime doesn't pay.' 'Don't you believe it,' says Verdoux, 'a great many criminals become millionaires. I'm just unlucky.' A priest visits him in prison. 'God have pity on your soul,' he says. Monsieur Verdoux smiles — 'Why not,' he says, 'after all, it belongs to him.' In this extraordinary film, there is no sweetness or light and no hope. The characters are ugly, greedy and quarrelsome. The women are fools, naive fools, avaricious fools. The most sympathetic character is Monsieur Verdoux himself, the murderer, the Bluebeard. As in all Chaplin films, there is a young girl. But this time the young girl is a thief, the mistress of an armaments king. ('That ought to have been my racket,' murmurs Monsieur Verdoux.) Do you remember the last shot in Modern Times? Backlit, Charlie walks down a long road, hand in hand with Paulette Goddard. Monsieur Verdoux walks alone, between two policemen, alone to his death, and it is almost as though he is saying 'At last.' Do you remember The Circus, The Gold Rush, and a dozen other films in which Charlie timidly and adoringly makes love to pre-Raphaelite young girls.? Monsieur Verdoux whispers apt cliches to middle-aged women, with an eye on their bank balance. If this film distressed and saddened me, it is not because of Monsieur Verdoux, who after all is no more than a symbol of our time, a character who amateurishly attempts to compete with the atomic big shots. No, it's not because of him. It is because of Charles Chaplin. For if ever a film reflected the bitterness and despair of a human spirit, this film does. How blind the American critics are! 'The film is amusing,' they have said, or 'bewildering'. They have uttered their pious hopes that Charlie will be back with his bowler hat in his 'next'. None of them say 'There speaks a man's soul.' Why is Monsieur Verdoux so lonely, so antisocial, so shatteringly cynical? Because he is Charles Chaplin. The reason is not far to seek. No matter what American paper you open, for years Chaplin has been the butt of all the bigots, hypocrites, jingoists and nitwits of the entire American continent. Columnists who can find nothing to say, because they are dead from the neck up. can always attack Chaplin, and throw mud at one of the greatest artists of our time. Chaplin is sensitive. Chaplin is creative, Chaplin will never hunt with the hounds. Down with Chaplin! 'Are you a Communist, Mr Chaplin?' 'What did you do during the war?" 'Why won't you have anything to do with American politics?' 'Why have you never become an American citizen, after having lived here for 30 years?' 'What's your opinion of the USSR?' 'Why? How? When? Where?' These are only a few of the questions with which he was bombarded at a press conference the other day. He replied: T have never become an American because I am not a nationalist. Politics don't interest me. I pay taxes here, despite the fact that 70 per cent of my income comes from abroad. The USSR'.' In mv opinion, the Russians fought bravely during the war. If you think that makes me a Communist, well and good.' The Press conference went on. becoming more and more like a court of justice, with Chaplin in the dock. 'Mr Chaplin, in the name of our Catholic comrades, who fell in the war . . .' 'Mr Chaplin, you have taken our money and yet you refuse to take out nationalization papers A pack of hounds, and they never let up. And the voice of Monsieur Verdoux echoes — 'The world is a jungle." Before the conference ended, an intelligent critic witha genuine love for film, asked the following question — "Mr Chaplin, what is your opinion of a country, which, in the name of liberty, expects an artist to account for his beliefs, his private life, the manner in which he conducts his private business, and subjects him to a press campaign which amounts to public blackmail?' Chaplin looked at him a moment and said two words — 'Thank you.' While all this was going on. and the dogs were baying at his heels, a telegraph boy came in, tired, blase, chewing gum. He delivered a telegram to somebody and, raising his eves, suddenly saw, in the middle of the room, a most distinguished and elegant gentleman with white hair. He stared, thunderstruck, then bolted cut of the room. And through the closed door we heard his voice, full of disbelief and delight, shouting — 'Say. it's Charlie!" Translated from an article in 'Le Canard Enchaine' dated April 23rd, 1947, and signed ' Donald Ducky.' COI BULLETIN Monthly Review. No. 5. February 1947. Issued by Information Department, Films Division. COI. COI Films Division should make a point of circulating their house-magazine to contracting units. This is issue number five, and the first time your reviewer had ever heard of it. Baffled producers, directors and production managers, for whom the letters COI spell only 'financial problems', might have their morale uplifted by the knowledge that enlightened comment of this kind (yes, actually about film, not merely about paperwork and figures) regularly percolates to the darkest recesses of the Central Office. Here in this issue are a review of the 'Factual Film", a report from Paris by Helen de Mouilpied, notes on recent productions, on film literature, on what the studios are doing, and. as a tailpiece, E to G of a 'Glossary of Film Technical Terms and Abbreviations'. Carry on COI! We ma) not always love you. but this is beyond reproach. CORRECTION BY LETTER sir: There is a little conspiracy of identical errors in your April-May issue. On p. 88, in the review of the film Instruments of the Orchestra, we read of Britten's 'fifteen variations and fugue', and on p. 94 the observation is made again (b> another wiuer?) that 'the film presents 15 variations and a fugue on a Purcell theme." Actual!) the film presents 13 variations, for (1) flutes and piccolo. (2) oboes. (3) clarinets. (4) bassoons. (5) first and second violins. (6) violas. (7) 'cellos. iS) double-basses, (9) harp. (10) horns. (11) trumpets. (1?) trombone and bass tuba, and (13) percussion. 1 hese are succeeded b) the fugue, and preceded b) siv statements of the theme, tor i\) full orchestra. (2) wood-wind. (3) brass. (4) strings, ni percussion, and (6) full orchestra again. Yours, etc.. 11 VNS M 11 1R