The specific moment that signalled the transition between the sound and silent era has been a subject of debate for decades, especially amongst those who are eager to promote possible alternatives to those canonically referred to as pioneering works. Officially, it was Al Jolson and his distinctive voice that first captivated the audience’s attention in The Jazz Singer, which is universally known as the first sound film – however, the debate isn’t about what was the first, but rather the film that would be the last, which is more open to interpretation. We all have our preference for the most endearing and compelling figure of the era, but it seems almost contrarian to suggest that anyone other than Charles Chaplin was the most iconic, at least in terms of the cultural cache he would carry, becoming one of the most instantly recognizable figures in the history of artistic expression, which is not at all an exaggeration, as his broad legacy with boldly attest. The reason to bring these two subjects together relates to the existence of Modern Times, which is not only considered one of Chaplin’s masterpieces (if not his magnum opus overall), but one of the most important films of its era, and one that has traversed generational and geographical boundaries to be seen as a truly brilliant examination of several themes, all of which are so perfectly tied together by Chaplin, who crafts one of the most unexpectedly engaging and well-constructed satires ever committed to film. It is notable for being the first instance of Chaplin working with sound (since any reports of his being averse to these developments are not at all truthful), which brought with it a new set of challenges and opportunities, which the director embraced with vigour and charm, creating yet another exceptionally exciting and deeply moving comedic masterpiece that holds our attention from the very first moment, and doesn’t subside until those melancholy final notes as we see The Tramp and The Gamin walking into the horizon, their future being as uncertain and exciting as that of the cinematic landscape in which they existed.

Modern Times is famously known as the final outing for Chaplin as his iconic Little Tramp character (although some view The Barber in The Great Dictator as an unofficial entry into the canon), the role he had played for over two decades across more than 75 short films and features, all of them being fervent celebrations of Chaplin’s physicality and incredible ability to command the screen without ever saying a word, which is why the character is so incredibly appealing and has transcended nearly every conceivable boundary. It is clear that Chaplin was looking to retire this character – as much as he tried, it would not be feasible to continue to make films centred on an entirely silent character at the same scale as he did before (even if the likes of Jacques Tati and Rowan Atkinson built entire careers from it, being inspired by these icons of slapstick comedy), and he also wanted to go in pursuit of other opportunities, refusing to limit himself to just this character, since as compelling and popular as he may have been, Chaplin was not limited enough to have this be his only substantial work. As a result, we can view Modern Times as being not only a great satire but his parting ode to this iconic character, the creation that bestowed the status of a true master of his craft on Chaplin, which only motivated him to be more ambitious with his later choices. Naturally, this film features Chaplin at his peak – his body more elastic than ever before, his face conveying the most profound expressions imaginable, and his entire performance being built around his final opportunity to explore the world through the perspective of this character, who has become a true cornerstone of Hollywood culture, and a global icon that remains unquestionably important to the entire history of the film industry, which bids a sad but celebratory farewell to one of its most resonant and important characters as Chaplin hangs up the cane and bowler hat, and sets the Little Tramp out to pasture, a well-deserved retirement after years of extensive and brutal work, all done for our entertainment and Chaplin’s efforts to go further than ever before with every performance.

There is logically much more to Modern Times than just Chaplin’s performance, which is iconic but only one component of a broader film, which is primarily why the narrative feels incredibly rich and evocative. His directorial skill was precise and memorable, and he possessed an endless imagination that allowed many of his films to be nothing short of a spectacle at the best of times, which is precisely why it is never difficult to find value in his work, especially the later ones produced when Chaplin had more control over the narratives and creative process (which had been stifled by Mack Sennett and the other producers with which Chaplin worked throughout his career), becoming one of the first unimpeachable auteurs, someone whose style is not only immediately recognizable, but also rich and meaningful in a way that never suggests prevention, but rather promotes a specific kind of artistic authority that formed the foundation for many of his best works. Modern Times is as creative as anything else Chaplin had done, whether previously or in subsequent years, and like many of his iconic films, it takes the form of setpieces revolving around a specific idea or gag, which is pushed to the limits of plausibility and reigned in early enough to never come across as forced, which is an important quality that drives most of Chaplin’s work. Many of the moments in this film have been ingrained in the cultural memory, whether it is that iconic image of Chaplin moving through the innards of factory machinery, or that melancholy final shot that proves that there is always space to explore a wider range of emotions, which is the reason Modern Times has been appreciated since its release. It often felt like Chaplin was aiming to do as much in this film as he could, narratively and visually, knowing that the concept of the Little Tramp and his penchant for getting himself into precarious situations, was about to come to an end, due to his self-imposed decision to retire the character. Yet, it never comes across as clumsy or too overstuffed but rather moves along with that iconic fluidity that has always defined Chaplin and made his work so extremely effective and deeply personal, even when it was done through the guise of this character, who may have been his most intimate creation overall.

Something that becomes increasingly clear the more time you spend with his work is that a Chaplin film without some semblance of a social message, whether overt or subtle, is only half-formed, and quite difficult to find. He wasn’t only a masterful comedian known for his incredible expressivity and physical prowess, but he was also one of the most fascinating social critics of his generation, and someone whose work always reflected his worldview, even if only in the margins in some cases. The intentions behind Modern Times are made extremely clear, with the title itself giving us a relatively good idea of what Chaplin was aiming to do with this film – much like the industry, the world itself was changing, and as someone who both adhered to conventions, but was also actively interested in examining how life can shift, and the impact even the smallest of changes can have when it comes to creating an entirely new cultural landscape. Whether we want to look at it as a fervent, anti-Communist manifesto (which would be a factor in Chaplin’s eventual blacklisting during the era of McCarthyism, despite his politics never being made clear enough for such an allegation), or instead just view it as a document on the growth of industry, and the social and political consequences that come about as a result, there is something so enticing about how Chaplin and his co-horts construct this world, building a fascinating and deeply compelling depiction of a semi-futuristic society, one that is recognizable as being from a particular moment (which is why there are some visual correlations between Modern Times and German Expressionism, not a comparison that many would have expected), but also detached enough to be the subject of a very engaging and frequently quite captivating demonstration of human behaviour and social structure, both of which are themes that underpin this entire film and make it so incredibly moving, while also scathing in the satire, the balance of the two being the precise formula needed to make a resounding success.

Over eighty years since its release, Modern Times has shown very little signs of ageing – outside of the gorgeous black-and-white photography and the majority of the film is silent (and where the spoken elements are done intentionally to emphasize the transition between eras), this is a timeless tale, the kind of engaging and spirited depiction of a society that may be intentionally parodical and heightened in certain ways but has a depth and honesty that makes for a truly captivating, meaningful demonstration of what Chaplin intended to do with this story. It is also a timely tale – the issues that formed the foundation of the story in 1936 are still very pressing, with the omnipotence of industries being a contentious subject, especially since we live in a world where this only allows the rich to earn more wealth, while they exploit the working-class and create more poverty. In many ways, Modern Times is one of Chaplin’s most overtly political works, and certainly one of his most satirical, with the jagged edge working unexpectedly well with the more tender, softhearted humour that the director mastered over this career. Not only a terrific visual stylist and physical comedian, Chaplin was incredibly adept at even the most intimate of human emotions, which anchor this film and allow it to be so well-constructed, even at its most outrageous. Even in the present era, it seems unlikely that any filmmaker will be able to balance comedy and drama quite as well as Chaplin, provoking an endless stream of laughter and nostalgia to the point where every one of his films is a spectacle, based around the human condition in all of its beauty. There is a reason Modern Times has remained so cherished for decades, and it seems to only be earning more admiration as new viewers are introduced to this world, which makes for a complex, engaging and always very funny experience that proves once again that Chaplin was a true master of his craft and one of the finest artists to ever work in the medium of cinema.