RATS: Rebel Against The System

I had always heard that Charlie Chaplin was one of the Greats of early film, and I had seen a few clips of his work here and there. But it’s only been after seeing this long portion of “Modern Times” that I’ve actually been able to appreciate just what a master Chaplin really was. He knew film, knew comedy, and all the nuts and bolts of both. In “Modern Times,” I think he’s using this expertise to comment on the nature of American capitalism and bureaucracy.

First, of course, we have the scenes within the factory, and the dominating theme is the dehumanization of the industry. Each and every one of the workers has become “programmed” to fulfill his role in keeping the machines running. This programming prompts Chaplin to begin humorously harassing two women (and their buttons), and keeps the other workers from chasing him around due their fear of falling behind. Further denigrating Chaplin is the incident with the feeding machine, which demonstrates the administration’s patent disregard for his feelings, desires, pain, or emotion in general. He is not a person to them: he is an asset, a cog in the workings that is expected to stay in its place and do what it is supposed to. Not unexpectedly, Chaplin’s refusal to cooperate and decision to flaunt the rules results in his incarceration. He has become a broken cog, and of no more use to the company.

The second instance of commentary arrives during Chaplin’s arrest for being a communist leader, when he is taken away based solely on the evidence of him carrying a (presumably red) flag. The portrayal of the police in “Modern Times,” in fact, is very similar to that of the factory workers. Policemen are pieces of the government’s bureaucratic machine, rather than industry’s capitalistic machine. They carry out their duties with ineptitude and minimal attention, only figuring out who really stole the loaf of bread after several conversations.

Theft brings up the third major instance of social commentary. When unable to find steady work, Chaplin begins seeking for ways to get arrested, eventually succeeding by eating a massive meal at a café and having no way to pay for it. That his character would rather go to prison than live in free Chicago says a great deal. In one sense, it is an accusation that this rising capitalistic profit-driven economy is responsible for making workers suffer. This is also seen in the trio that breaks into the department store, and after recognizing Chaplin, tell him, “We’re not burglars. We’re hungry!” For all its progress, industry has primarily brought hardship.

Chaplin’s character, then, is essentially caught within a Catch-22: he cannot achieve the American Dream without working for the big companies, but it is simultaneously these industries that are killing the American Dream and making its attainment impossible to the common man. The System has them beaten, and it is leaching the life out of the underlings that keeps it going. Capitalism and bureaucracy, according to Chaplin, want automatons without emotions or free will to complicate things; they wants gears in the machine that can be dealt with easily and clinically.

As we’ve seen, Chaplin’s character refuses to take this lying down, and he seems to suggest that optimism and determination are the antidotes to the domineering power of the System. They may not be enough to achieve the American Dream, but they’re enough to survive and claim a little bit of happiness—and maybe that’s sufficient.