Book Review: Charlie Chaplin vs. America is both shocking and familiar

Watching TCM recently, I saw a clip of Gloria DeHaven reminiscing about visiting Charlie Chaplin at his home when she was quite young. At first, she couldn’t connect the handsome guy who answered the door with the Little Tramp. She concluded, “I guess I was in love with two different people.” Certainly, this recognition of the dichotomy between Chaplin and his most famous creation resonated with me. It was my key takeaway from a 2014 biography of Chaplin, and it is a recurring theme in Charlie Chaplin vs. America: When Art, Sex, and Politics Collided by Scott Eyman. This new volume published by Simon & Shuster and available on October 31, is the story of how right-wing elements of the U.S. government and mainstream media conspired to essentially deport Chaplin from the U.S. in 1952. That may sound far-fetched, but Eyman brings the receipts. All the information in the book is meticulously sourced from a wide range of letters, articles, and government files. While Chaplin’s bifurcated personality certainly played a role in his troubles, the larger issue was a bunch of people who thought anyone who disagreed with them should be punished by shunning or exile and did everything in their power to make it happen. The tale is both shocking and shockingly familiar. More after the jump

The political implications of City Lights (1931) and Modern Times (1936) and Chaplin’s refusal to become a U.S. citizen had always been oddly suspect to those on the right, and Chaplin’s many dalliances were a constant source of scandal, but his trouble had begun in earnest in 1942. In May of that year, he delivered a speech advocating a second front to aid the Soviet Union. (Chaplin should probably have known he was in hot water when he left the stage and John Garfield told him how brave he was.) Fired up by the crowds’ reactions, and unable to read the room, he reiterated this idea publicly several times. His sentiments struck some as Communist or at least they could be spun as such for the 20th-century equivalent of clicks. Chaplin was always fodder for conservative gossip columnist Hedda Hopper, as well as some of her colleagues who openly loathed him for a variety of reasons, but now FBI surveillance began in earnest, eventually amassing a file of more than 1,900 pages.

At around the same time, Chaplin’s involvement with Joan Berry, an aspiring actress he signed to a contract, led to charges under the Mann Act (which made it illegal for a man to transport a woman across state lines for immoral purposes) and a paternity suit. Despite blood tests proving that Chaplin could not have fathered Berry’s child, Berry’s lawyer finagled a trial. In short, Chaplin lost. Making matters worse, just as the paternity suit was made public, Chaplin married his fourth wife, actress Oona O’Neill. She was 18 and he was 54. They had 8 children together and remained wed until Charlie died in 1977, but at the time, the couple was pilloried in the press. Chaplin’s personal life was another mark against him.

By 1952, with the activities of the House Committee on UnAmerican Activities at their height (or depth, depending on how you look at it), Chaplin had some very powerful enemies and not too many allies. Among those who didn’t appreciate his amorality were those who thought his contradictory political beliefs were “Red.” When he sailed on the Queen Elizabeth to promote his new film Limelight in England, the State Department and the Attorney General had seen and heard enough to revoke his re-entry permit. Chaplin didn’t return to the U.S. until he received his honorary Oscar in 1972.

All this you may have known. But Eyman details how the FBI and other right-wing figures like Hedda Hopper passed information and disinformation between them to manipulate individuals and stoke the outrage of the public. Though the author is always on the filmmaker’s side, he pulls no punches. Chaplin could be repellant — his hypocrisy, changeability, and amorality seemed to fuel his problems throughout his life — but it’s revolting that the FBI would feed information, often false, to the media to bring someone down for their non-existent political beliefs.

The author gives the societal context for this chain of events in comprehensive detail and avoids the speculation in which most biographies indulge. His account of Chaplin’s infinitely variable mindset and moods, and others’ reactions to them, is a fascinating, well-sourced, and worthwhile read. Charlie Chaplin vs. America is a cautionary tale of what happens when authoritarian impulses take over and any dissension is punished, proving that if history doesn’t repeat, it certainly does rhyme.