My Autobiography

by Charles Chaplin

  ‘No, it didn’t,’ said the spokesman. ‘Your public relations are not very good: you left here ignoring the Press, and we don’t like it.’

  Although I was never too popular with the local Press, his remark rather amazed me. As a matter of fact, I had left Hollywood without seeing them because I believed that those who were not too friendly might tear The Great Dictator to bits before it had a chance to be seen in New York. And I could not afford to take chances with a $2,000,000 investment. I told them that an anti-Nazi picture had powerful enemies, even in America, and that to give the picture a chance I had decided to have it previewed at the last moment, before its presentation to the audience.

  But nothing I said affected their antagonistic attitude. The climate began to change and many snide items began to appear in the Press; mild attacks at first, stories about my stinginess, then ugly rumours about Paulette and me. But in spite of the adverse publicity The Great Dictator continued breaking records both in England and America.

  *

  Although America was not yet at war, Roosevelt was waging a cold one with Hitler. This made it very difficult for the President, for the Nazis had made inroads into American institutions and organizations; whether these organizations were aware of it or not, they were being used as tools of the Nazis.

  Then came the sudden and dramatic news that Japan had attacked Pearl Harbor. The severity of it stunned America. But she immediately girded herself for war, and before long many divisions of American soldiers were overseas. At this juncture the Russians were holding off Hitler’s hordes outside Moscow, and were calling for an immediate second front. Roosevelt recommended it; and although the Nazi sympathizers had now gone underground, their poison was still in the air. Every device was used to divide us from our Russian allies. Vicious propaganda was rife at that time, saying: ‘Let them both bleed white, then we’ll come in at the kill’ – every kind of subterfuge was used to prevent a second front. Anxious days followed. Each day we heard of Russia’s appalling casualties. Days went by into weeks and weeks into many months and the Nazis were still outside Moscow.

  At this moment I believe my troubles began. I received a telephone call from the head of the American Committee for Russian war relief in San Francisco, asking if I would take the place of Mr Joseph E. Davies, the American Ambassador to Russia, who was to speak, but at the last moment had been attacked with laryngitis. Although I had only a few hours’ notice, I accepted. The meeting was scheduled for the following day, so I caught the evening train which arrived in San Francisco at eight in the morning.

  The committee had a social itinerary mapped out for me – a lunch here and a dinner there – which gave me little time to think of a speech, and I was to be the principal speaker. However, at dinner I drank a couple of glasses of champagne and that helped matters.

  The hall held ten thousand and was packed. On the stage were American admirals and generals, and Mayor Rossi of San Francisco. The speeches were restrained and equivocating. Said the Mayor: ‘We must live with the fact that the Russians are our allies.’ He was cautious not to overstate the Russian emergency, or overpraise their valour, or mention the fact that they were fighting and dying to hold back nearly two hundred divisions of Nazis. Our allies were strange bed-fellows was the attitude I felt that evening.

  The head of the committee had prevailed on me to speak for an hour if possible. This terrified me. At the most, four minutes was my limit. But after listening to such weak palaver my indignation was aroused. I made four topic notes on the back of my dinner place-card. Pacing up and down backstage in a state of nerves and fear, I waited to go on. Then I heard my introduction.

  I was wearing a black tie and dinner jacket. There was applause which gave me a little time to collect myself. When it subsided I said one word: ‘Comrades!’ and the house went up in a roar of laughter. When it subsided, I said emphatically: ‘And I mean comrades.’ There was renewed laughter, then applause. I continued: ‘I assume there are many Russians here tonight, and the way your countrymen are fighting and dying at this very moment, it is an honour and a privilege to call you comrades.’ Through the applause many stood up.

  Now I became inflamed, thinking of the expression ‘Let them both bleed white.’ I was going to express my indignation about it – but an inner prompting stopped me, and instead I said: ‘I am not a Communist, I am a human being, and I think I know the reactions of human beings. The Communists are no different from anyone else; whether they lose an arm or a leg, they suffer as all of us do, and die as all of us die. And the Communist mother is the same as any other mother. When she receives the tragic news that her sons will not return, she weeps as other mothers weep. I don’t have to be a Communist to know that. I have only to be a human being to know that. And at this moment Russian mothers are doing a lot of weeping and their sons a lot of dying.…’

  I spoke for forty minutes, now knowing what was coming next. I made them laugh and applaud with anecdotes about Roosevelt and about my war-bond speech in the First World War – I could do no wrong.

  I continued: ‘And now this war – I am here on behalf of Russian war relief.’ I paused and repeated: ‘Russian war relief. Money will help, but they need more than money. I am told that the Allies have two million soldiers languishing in the North of Ireland, while the Russians alone are facing about two hundred divisions of Nazis.’ There was intense silence. ‘The Russians,’ I said emphatically, ‘are our allies, they are not only fighting for their way of life, but for our way of life and if I know Americans they like to do their own fighting. Stalin wants it, Roosevelt has called for it – so let’s all call for it – let’s open a second front now!’

  There was a wild uproar that lasted for seven minutes. That thought had been in the heart and mind of the audience. They would not let me go any further, they kept stamping and applauding. And as they stamped and yelled and threw their hats in the air, I began to wonder if I had said too much and had gone too far. Then I grew furious with myself for having such pusillanimous thoughts in the face of those thousands who were fighting and dying. When at last the audience was quiet, I said: ‘As you feel this way about it, will each and every one please send a telegram to the President? Let’s hope that by tomorrow he will receive ten thousand requests for a second front!’

  After the meeting I felt the atmosphere charge with tension and uneasiness. Dudley Field Malone, John Garfield and myself went somewhere for supper. ‘You have a lot of courage,’ said Garfield, referring to my speech. His remark was disturbing, for I did not wish to be valorous or caught up in a political cause célèbre. I had only spoken what I sincerely felt and thought was right. Nevertheless, after John’s remark I began to feel a depressing pall over the rest of the evening. But whatever menacing clouds I expected as a result of that speech evaporated, and back in Beverly Hills life went on as usual.

  A few weeks later I had another request to speak by telephone at a mass meeting in Madison Square. As it was for the same cause I accepted – why not? It was sponsored by the most respectable of people and organizations. I spoke for fourteen minutes, which speech the Council of the Congress of Industrial Organizations thought fit to publish. I was not alone in this effort, as the following booklet issued by the C.I.O. will disclose:

  THE SPEECH

  ‘ON THE BATTLEFIELDS OF RUSSIA

  DEMOCRACY WILL LIVE OR DIE’

  The great crowd, previously warned not to interrupt with applause, hushed and strained for every word.

  Thus they listened for fourteen minutes to Charles Chaplin, the great people’s artist of America, as he spoke to them by telephone from Hollywood.

  In the early evening of 22 July 1942, sixty thousand trade unionists, members of civic, fraternal, veteran, community and church organizations and others gathered at Madison Square Park in New York to rally in support of President Franklin D. Roosevelt for the immediate opening of a second front to hasten the final victory over Hitler and the Axis.

  The sponso
rs of the great demonstration were the 250 unions affiliated with the Greater New York Industrial Union Council, C.I.O. Wendell L. Willkie, Philip Murray, Sidney Hillman and many other prominent Americans sent enthusiastic messages to the rally.

  Bright skies favoured the occasion. The flags of the Allied Nations flanked Old Glory on the speakers’ platform and placards with slogans of support for the President and slogans for opening the second front dotted the sea of people that choked the streets around the park.

  Lucy Monroe led the singing of The Star-Spangled Banner to open the meeting and Jane Froman, Arlene Francis and several other popular stars of the American Theatre Wing entertained. United States Senators James M. Mead and Claude Pepper, Mayor F.H. La Guardia, Lieutenant Governor Charles Poletti, Representative Vito Marcantonio, Michael Quill and Joseph Curran, president of the New York C.I.O. Council, were the main speakers.

  Said Senator Mead: ‘We shall win this war only when we have enlisted the vast masses of people in Asia, in conquered Europe, in Africa, wholeheartedly and enthusiastically in the struggle for freedom.’ And Senator Pepper: ‘He who hampers our efforts, who cries for restraint, is an enemy of the Republic.’ And Joseph Curran: ‘We have the men. We have the materials. We know the one way to win – and that is to open a second front now.’

  The massed crowd cheered with united voice every mention of the President, of the second front and of our heroic allies, the courageous fighters and people of the Soviet Union, Britain and China. Then came the address of Charles Chaplin via long-distance telephone.

  TO SUPPORT THE PRESIDENT’S RALLY

  FOR A SECOND FRONT NOW!

  Madison Square Park, July 22 1942

  ‘On the battlefields of Russia democracy will live or die. The fate of the Allied nations is in the hands of the Communists. If Russia is defeated the Asiatic continent – the largest and richest of this globe – would be under the domination of the Nazis. With practically the whole Orient in the hands of the Japanese the Nazis would then have access to nearly all the vital war materials of the world. What chance would we have then of defeating Hitler?

  ‘With the difficulty of transportation, the problem of our communication lines thousands of miles away, the problem of steel, oil and rubber – and Hitler’s strategy of divide and conquer – we would be in a desperate position if Russia should be defeated.

  ‘Some people say it would prolong the war ten or twenty years. In my estimation this is putting it optimistically. Under such conditions and against such a formidable enemy the future would be very uncertain.

  WHAT ARE WE WAITING FOR?

  ‘Russians are in desperate need of help. They are pleading for a second front. Among the Allied nations there is a difference of opinion as to whether a second front is possible now. We hear that the Allies haven’t sufficient supplies to support a second front. Then again we hear they have. We also hear that they don’t want to risk a second front at this time in case of possible defeat. That they don’t want to take a chance until they are sure and ready.

  ‘But can we afford to wait until we are sure and ready? Can we afford to play safe? There is no safe strategy in war. At this moment the Germans are 35 miles from the Caucasus. If the Caucasus is lost 95 per cent of the Russian oil is lost. When tens of thousands are dying and millions are about to die we must speak honestly what’s in our minds. The people are asking themselves questions. We hear of great expeditionary forces landing in Ireland, 95 per cent of our convoys successfully arriving in Europe, two million Englishmen fully equipped, raring to go. What are we waiting for when the situation is so desperate in Russia?

  WE CAN TAKE IT

  ‘Note, official Washington and official London, these are not questions to create dissensions. We ask them in order to dispel confusion and to engender confidence and unity for eventual victory. And whatever the answer is we can take it.

  ‘Russia is fighting with her back against the wall. That wall is the Allies’ strongest defence. We defended Libya and lost. We defended Crete and lost. We defended the Philippines and other islands in the Pacific and lost. But we cannot afford to lose Russia, for that is the aggressive front line of democracy. When our world – our life – our civilization are crumbling about our feet, we’ve got to take a chance.

  ‘If the Russians lose the Caucasus it will be the greatest disaster of the Allied cause. Then watch out for the appeasers, for they’ll come out of their holes. They will want to make peace with a victorious Hitler. They will say: “It’s useless to sacrifice any more American lives – we can make ‘a good deal’ with Hitler.”

  BEWARE OF THE NAZI SNARE

  ‘Watch out for this Nazi snare. These Nazi wolves will change into sheep’s clothing. They will make peace very attractive to us and then before we are aware of it we will have succumbed to the Nazi ideology. Then we shall be enslaved. They will take away our liberty and control our minds. The world will be ruled by the Gestapo. They will rule us from the air. Yes, that’s the power of the future.

  ‘With the power of the skies in Nazi hands all opposition to the Nazi order will be blasted out of existence. Human progress will be lost. There will be no minority rights, no workers’ rights, no citizens’ rights. All that will be blasted too. Once we listen to the appeasers and make peace with a victorious Hitler his brutal order will control the earth.

  WE CAN TAKE A CHANCE

  ‘Watch out for the appeasers who always crop up after a disaster. ‘If we are on the watch and if we keep up our morale we have nothing to fear. Remember, morale saved England. And if we keep our morale, victory is assured.

  ‘Hitler has taken many chances. His biggest one is the Russian campaign. God help him if he’s not able to break through the Caucasus this summer. God help him if he has to go through another winter around Moscow. His chance is a precarious one, but he’s taken it. If Hitler can take chances, can’t we? Give us action. Give us more bombs over Berlin. Give us those Glenn Martin seaplanes to help our transport problem. Above all, give us a second front now.

  VICTORY IN THE SPRING

  ‘Let us aim for victory in the spring. You in the factories, you in the fields, you in uniforms, you citizens of the world, let us work and fight towards that end. You, official Washington, and you, official London, let us make this our aim – victory in the spring.

  If we hold this thought, work with this thought, live with this thought, it will generate a spirit that will increase our energy and quicken our drive.

  ‘Let us strive for the impossible. Remember the great achievements throughout history have been the conquest of what seemed the impossible.’

  *

  For the time being my days were halcyon. But it was the calm before the storm. The circumstances that led up to this weird story started innocently enough. It was Sunday and after a game of tennis Tim Durant told me that he had a date with a young woman named Joan Barry, a friend of Paul Getty; she had just returned from Mexico City with a letter of introduction from a friend, A. C. Blumenthal. Tim said he was dining with her and another girl, and asked if I would like to come along as Miss Barry had expressed a desire to meet me. We met at Perino’s restaurant. The lady in question was pleasant and cheerful enough and the four of us spent an innocuous evening together and I never thought of seeing her again.

  But the following Sunday, which was open house for tennis, Tim brought her along. On Sunday evenings I always let the personnel go off and dined out, so I invited Tim and Miss Barry to dine at Romanoff’s and after dinner I drove them home. The following morning, however, she called up and wanted to know if I would take her to lunch. I told her I was attending an auction in Santa Barbara, ninety miles away, and that if she had nothing else to do she could come along and we would lunch there and go to the auction later. After buying one or two things I drove her back to Los Angeles.

  Miss Barry was a big handsome woman of twenty-two, well built, with upper regional domes immensely expansive and made alluring by an extremely low décolleté s
ummer dress, which, on the drive home, evoked my libidinous curiosity. It was then she told me that she had quarrelled with Paul Getty and that she was returning to New York the following night, but that if I wanted her to stay she would do so and give up everything. I reared away in suspicion, for there was something too sudden, too odd, about the proposal. I told her quite frankly not to remain on my account, and with that I dropped her off outside her apartment and bade her good-bye.

  To my surprise she phoned up a day or so later to say she was staying over in any case, and would I see her that evening. Persistence is the road to accomplishment. Thus she achieved her object and I began to see her often. The days that followed were not unpleasant, but there was something queer and not quite normal about them. Without telephoning she would suddenly show up late at night at my house. This was somewhat disturbing. Then for a week I would not hear from her. Although I would not admit it, I was beginning to feel uneasy. However, when she did show up she was disarmingly pleasant, so my doubts and apprehensions were allayed.

  One day I lunched with Sir Cedric Hardwicke and Sinclair Lewis, who, during conversation, commented on the play Shadow and Substance, which Cedric had starred in. Lewis called the character of Bridget a modern Joan of Arc, and thought the play would make an excellent film. I became interested and told Cedric I would like to read it. He sent me a copy.

  A night or so later Joan Barry came to dinner, and I talked about the play. She said she had seen it and would like to play the girl. I did not take her seriously, but that evening she read the part to me, and to my astonishment gave an excellent reading, even to the Irish accent. I was so enthused that I took a silent test of her to see if she were photogenic, and it turned out satisfactorily.

  Now all my qualms about her oddities vanished. In fact, I thought I had made a discovery. I sent her to Max Reinhardt’s school of acting as she needed technical training, and since she was busy there, I seldom saw her. I had not yet bought the rights of the play, so I got in touch with Cedric, and through his kind help the film rights were purchased for $25,000. I then put Barry under contract at a salary of $250 a week.