Review of Monsieur Verdoux (1947) by Michael W — 20 Oct 2015

Fascinating film.

Funny, wry, philosophical, paradoxical, compelling, cynical, satirical.

The serial killer story is tempered by the creative force behind the film of course, and by the fact that - for the most part - this IS a very black comedy. But it's not ludicrous or OTT slapstick ENOUGH to temper feelings of discomfort and confusion about the fact that our charming protagonist (our once cuddly Little Tramp) is actually a mass murderer. But so what? Chaplin obviously WANTED to engender some discomfort and confusion with this film, and the poignant, thoughtful dramatic aspects herein (and there are many) align the individual's exploitation of a few women with the exploitation of the many by the world's powerful few. More unsubtle (but also lovely) digs about the world's lust for salacious headlines about individual personalities above really caring about the mass tragedies next door.

I'm making this film sound heavy, but it's not. There's several superbly staged vignettes, and a couple of great slapstick bits worthy of The Little Tramp himself. There's some clever wordplay too, but for the most part the joy in this flick comes from the performances - Chaplin casts some brilliant (relative) unknowns into some awesome roles. Nash, Raye, Hoffman - are all very rewatchable. Best of all is of course the man himself. Chaplin - fussy, fastidious, effusive, eloquent, calculating, captivating - gives a fantastically assured performance that (as much as I adore The Tramp) makes me wish that he'd released a few more talkies.

He's just great.