Charlie Chaplin was terrified. It’s 1937, and the world is sliding toward a cliff edge. While most of Hollywood was busy playing it safe to protect overseas profits, Chaplin decided to put his entire reputation—and his own money—on the line to mock a monster. If you decide to watch The Great Dictator, you aren't just seeing a movie. You're witnessing the single most ballsy act of artistic defiance in the 20th century.
He looked like him. That's the weird part. Chaplin and Adolf Hitler were born only four days apart in April 1889. They both rose from poverty to become two of the most recognizable faces on the planet, using the exact same "toothbrush" mustache. Chaplin knew this. He felt Hitler had stolen his look. So, he decided to steal it back and turn the "Führer" into a laughingstock.
Why this film almost never happened
Most people don't realize how much the British and American governments tried to stop this. Seriously. In the late 30s, the British Board of Film Censors told Chaplin they’d probably ban it to keep the peace with Germany. The "Production Code" office in the U.S. sent him letters warning about the "unpleasantness" of mocking a foreign head of state.
Chaplin didn't care. He started filming in September 1939, right as Germany invaded Poland. By the time he was done, the "Phoney War" was over and the world was screaming.
The plot is actually pretty simple, which makes the satire hit harder. Chaplin plays two roles: a nameless Jewish barber who loses his memory after WWI, and Adenoid Hynkel, the Dictator of Tomania. The barber returns to his shop in the ghetto after years in the hospital, totally unaware that the world has gone insane. He doesn't know why "Storm Troopers" are painting "JEW" on his windows. He just thinks they're being rude.
The Globe Dance: A masterpiece of ego
If you've seen any clip of this movie, it’s probably Hynkel dancing with the inflatable globe. It is, quite honestly, the best bit of physical comedy ever filmed. Hynkel bounces the world off his backside and his head to the tune of Wagner’s Lohengrin. It’s light, it’s airy, and it’s deeply disturbing once you realize he's literally playing with the lives of millions.
But then the globe pops.
That’s the nuance of Chaplin. He wasn't just making a "funny" movie. He was showing how fragile these egos are. When you watch The Great Dictator, pay attention to the scenes with Benzino Napaloni (the Mussolini stand-in). They have this ridiculous "ego battle" involving barber chairs. They keep cranking their chairs higher and higher so they can look down on each other. It’s petty. It’s stupid. And it’s exactly how Chaplin saw these dictators.
The speech that changed everything
For the first hour and forty-five minutes, Chaplin gives us his usual slapstick genius. But the ending? The ending is something else entirely.
Because of a classic "Prince and the Pauper" mix-up, the Jewish barber ends up on a podium in front of a massive army, expected to give a victory speech. This is where Chaplin breaks the fourth wall. He stops playing the character. He stops being the "Little Tramp." He looks directly into the lens and speaks for six straight minutes about humanity, greed, and the soul of man.
✨ Don't miss: Why Funny 1 Liner Jokes Still Kill (And How to Actually Tell Them)
"We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness."
Critics at the time were split. Some thought it ruined the movie's flow. They felt it was too "preachy." But Chaplin didn't care about the "flow." He had something to say. He actually spent over $100,000 of his own money just to reshoot that final sequence until it felt right. You can see the sweat on his face. He's not acting. He's pleading.
Where to find it and what to look for
Nowadays, it's pretty easy to find. Most people go for the Criterion Collection version because the restoration is incredible. You can see the textures of the uniforms and the genuine fear in the eyes of the actors in the ghetto scenes.
When you sit down to watch The Great Dictator, keep these things in mind:
- The Language: Pay attention to Hynkel’s speeches. It’s not German. It’s gibberish. Chaplin called it "macaronic" German. He’s mocking the sound of Hitler’s aggression without actually using his words. It turns the terrifying into the ridiculous.
- The Silence: Chaplin was a silent film star. This was his first full "talkie." You can tell he’s still wrestling with sound. There are long stretches of visual comedy that feel like his old shorts, mixed with these dense, dialogue-heavy scenes.
- The Costumes: Look at the "Double Cross" symbol Hynkel wears. It’s a direct parody of the Swastika, but it also represents the "double-cross" the dictators were doing to their own people.
- Paulette Goddard: She plays Hannah, the barber's love interest. At the time, she was Chaplin’s real-life partner. Her performance in the ghetto scenes adds a layer of genuine heart that keeps the movie from feeling like just a political skit.
The backlash was real
Chaplin paid a heavy price for this. The FBI started a file on him. People called him a "premature anti-fascist" (which was apparently a bad thing back then). After the war, when the full horrors of the Holocaust were revealed, Chaplin famously said that if he had known the extent of the atrocities in the concentration camps, he "could not have made fun of the homicidal insanity of the Nazis."
That’s a heavy realization. It changes how you view the comedy. But it also makes the film more important. It captures a moment in time when a single artist tried to use laughter as a weapon against a rising tide of darkness.
Honestly, it's kinda wild how relevant the speech still feels. You see it sampled in YouTube lo-fi tracks and political rallies even today. People are still hungry for that message.
Actionable steps for the best experience
Don't just put it on in the background while you scroll on your phone. It doesn't work that way.
- Context is King: Before you hit play, spend five minutes looking at newsreel footage of Hitler from 1938. Look at the hand gestures. Look at the way he moves. Then watch Chaplin’s parody. The accuracy is terrifyingly good.
- Audio Matters: If you're watching on a streaming service, make sure the subtitles are on for the "nonsense German" parts. Sometimes they provide a bit of extra flavor, though the physical comedy usually speaks for itself.
- The Criterion Cut: If you can, get the Criterion edition. It includes a documentary called The Tramp and the Dictator which compares the lives of the two men. It’s the perfect companion piece.
- Double Feature: If you really want to dive deep, watch it alongside To Be or Not to Be (1942). It’s another wartime satire that shows how different directors handled the same subject matter.
Watching this film isn't just a film history lesson. It’s a reminder that even when things feel completely hopeless, there’s power in refusing to be intimidated. Chaplin took the most feared man on Earth and made him look like a toddler throwing a tantrum. That takes guts.
Go find a copy. Sit through the slapstick. Listen to the speech. It’s been over 80 years, and we still haven't quite learned the lessons Chaplin was shouting at us from that podium. It’s time to listen again.