The Great Dictator

In what might be history’s most audacious case of “dress for the job you want, not the job you have,” Charlie Chaplin plays both a mild-mannered Jewish barber and his exact doppelganger, Adenoid Hynkel, the power-hungry dictator of Tomania (subtle, Charlie, real subtle). Our story begins in the trenches of World War I, where our unnamed barber heroically bumbles his way through a series of military mishaps, including accidentally piloting a plane upside down while carrying an important officer. Because apparently that’s how you survive war – with slapstick.

Fast forward to the barber waking up in 1939, after spending twenty years in the hospital with convenient plot-device amnesia. He returns to his barbershop in the Jewish ghetto, completely oblivious to the fact that his hometown has become the center stage for Hynkel’s anti-Semitic regime. Talk about missing a few newsletters during your hospital stay.

The ghetto sequences showcase some of Chaplin’s finest moments of resistance-through-comedy. Our barber befriends Hannah (Paulette Goddard), who’s made it her personal mission to bonk storm troopers with frying pans. He also gains the protection of Schultz, a high-ranking officer who recognizes him as the soldier who saved his life during the war (in that upside-down plane, no less – funny how these things come full circle).

Meanwhile, in a palace that looks like what would happen if you let a megalomaniac loose in IKEA, Dictator Hynkel is busy being a walking parody of Hitler. He practices speeches in mock German (which is really just gibberish peppered with occasional words like “wiener schnitzel” and “sauerkraut”), dances with an inflatable world globe in a scene that somehow manages to be both hilarious and terrifying, and throws temper tantrums that would make a toddler say “maybe dial it back a bit.”

The political satire kicks into high gear when Benzino Napaloni (Jack Oakie), the dictator of Bacteria, comes to visit. Their relationship is a masterclass in fragile masculinity, with both dictators trying to out-dictator each other. They compete over chair heights during a barbershop scene (yes, really), engage in a food fight at a formal dinner, and generally behave like schoolyard bullies who’ve been given countries to run. Their mustache-to-power ratio is off the charts.

Things take a turn when Schultz objects to Hynkel’s increasingly aggressive policies and ends up fleeing to the ghetto with a death sentence on his head. He and the barber organize a resistance movement, which goes about as well as you’d expect from a group led by an amnesiac barber and a defected officer with questionable planning skills. They end up in a concentration camp, but manage to escape wearing soldier uniforms (because apparently security protocols in Tomania were somewhat lax).

Through a series of coincidences that would make Charles Dickens say “that’s a bit much,” Hynkel goes duck hunting, falls into a lake, and gets arrested by his own troops who mistake him for the barber. Meanwhile, the barber, in stolen military gear, is mistaken for Hynkel just as the dictator is about to give a victory speech about invading Austria. Instead of doing the sensible thing and running for the hills, our barber-turned-accidental-dictator decides to give an impassioned speech about democracy, peace, and human dignity.

The film ends with Hannah listening to the speech on the radio in her new home in recently-invaded Austria. She’s inspired by the message of hope, though one might question the long-term viability of a resistance plan that involves accidentally replacing a dictator with his look-alike and hoping nobody notices the sudden personality change and complete reversal of all policies. But hey, in for a penny, in for a pound.

Chaplin’s film manages to be simultaneously slapstick comedy, pointed political satire, and earnest humanitarian plea. Released in 1940, when America was still officially neutral in World War II, the film was either an act of incredible courage or spectacular madness – or perhaps the special kind of genius that comes from being both. While some of the plot turns might require Olympic-level suspension of disbelief, the film’s core message about the absurdity of hatred and the power of human dignity remains as relevant as ever. Plus, where else are you going to see Hitler and Mussolini caricatures having a food fight?

(caption AI assisted)

I’d give this 4/5 stars. Mostly because it’s an audacious film and relevant to modern times. I can just imagine Trump and Putin having the chair size fight and it makes me giggle (which helps keep the night terrors away) Chaplin still has comedic chops especially with his physical comedy and although the plot contrivances are hard to believe they do land pretty well. After watching most of Chaplin’s silent movies during this project it was neat to see him speaking and he really does a great job. I’m a bit sad to not have any more of his films on my viewing schedule this year but I might loop back when this over and fill in the gaps.