A King in New York

The Old Man's penultimate movie is very odd indeed - set in America but made in England with a cast of old lags like George Woodbridge (which never helps any film) and filled with Chaplin's loathing for the country which turned against him in the late '40s, forcing him into exile. The film reverses the real-life situation: Chaplin plays the deposed king of Estrovia who flees to the States, where he is tormented by McCarthyish investigations and more innocuous '50s phenomena (rock'n'roll, widescreen movies, TV advertising). In Limelight, Chaplin's acute egocentricity paid dividends, but here he seems unable to use his personal feelings for comedy: the bulk of the gags are incredibly crude. One watches the proceedings with constant interest and constant embarrassment.