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Charlie nor of Hynkel, but of Chaplin; the voice is the ardent voice of Chaplin, and the torrent of feeling is his own, with a tremendous impact and power. We are reminded of Roger Manvell's comment that Chaplin's philosophy is so deeply felt that it is becoming "almost messianic".
Modern Times and The Great Dictator both bore witness to the fact that Chaplin had formulated the ideas hovering on the verge of full expression in all his films from the beginning. His dispersed and tentative, almost oblique, attack on the society of his time was defined in both; and they each contained the most complete presentation of the dualism in Charlie, first seen in The Kid. In Modern Times, Charlie discovered his feminine counterpart; in The Great Dictator, the duality was expressed more subtly still in opposite terms — the little Jewish barber, and Hynkel who sought to destroy him, representing an opposition in Chaplin's own character, the opposite sides of his own qualities and defects.
Earlier in his career, Chaplin had made a series of films that formed a trilogy that was in effect the summing-up of his work in film to that date— A Dog's Life (1918), Shoulder Arms (1918), Sunnyside (1919). Eighteen years later, the pattern repeats itself. With Modern Times (1936) he begins another trilogy destined to include The Great Dictator (1940) and Monsieur Verdoux (1947), and to provide a second and maturer summing-up.
t©^ Monsieur Verdoux
IN SPITE OF THE YEARS BETWEEN "MODERN TIMES" (1931) AND
Monsieur Verdoux (1947) the films in this second trilogy tread upon each other's heels; and in Monsieur Verdoux, Chaplin brings to a head his attack on society, and the signficance of the repeated dualism in Charlie.
It is easier to understand Monsieur Verdoux, and to begin to appreciate the countless ramifications of its theme, and the artistry of its presentation, when it is analysed in its relation to Chaplin's total work, which is itself the exact expression of his own reaction to the experiences and feeling of his life. Many of Chaplin's admirers were disappointed in Monsieur Verdoux, many others bewildered. This was largely due to a failure to understand that here was not an isolated film, with Chaplin playing a new part in a somewhat macabre plot. It was the latest stage of Chaplin's continued attack upon society, begun in his first films, gaining in anger and ardour and impetus through the years, increased by his own persecution until, in these last three films he decisively gave tongue to his hatred.