Talk:Charlie Chaplin/sandbox

Joan Barry, Hedda Hopper and the campaign against Chaplin
In the mid-1940s, Chaplin was involved in a series of legal battles, many of which were part of a smear campaign by the FBI and others, to ruin Chaplin's career. They would subsequently occupy most of his time and affect his public image. Chaplin became a "target" of the FBI in 1922, when FBI agent A.A. Hopkins gave J. Edgar Hoover a report warning about left-wing groups in Los Angeles, and that "radicals," including Chaplin, had "made inroads into the motion picture industry." Historian John Sbardellati makes clear that "Chaplin was no accidental target," and explains why:

"Through his tramp character, Chaplin created sympathy for the have-nots while often thumbing his nose at upper-class pretensions, as in The Idle Class (1921), or giving the boot to thuggish public authorities, as in The Immigrant (1917). . . . Casting his lot with foreign born did little to ingratiate Chaplin with the anti-Communists of the first red scare, especially given their tendency to suspect immigrants of radicalism."

As a result, from the FBI's perspective, "the situation was dire," notes Sbardellati, "for stars as big as Chaplin were unwilling to submit themselves to the righteous control of the Hays Office, yet were seemingly open to 'subversive' control of the Communists." Hollywood's chief censor at the time, Will H. Hays, told the FBI that according to him, "Chaplin was the only one in Hollywood who was 'against everything' when it came to censorship."

Joan Barry case
His first legal problems arose from a brief affair he had with an aspirant actress named Joan Barry, intermittently between May 1941 and the winter of 1942. The following year she reappeared and told Chaplin that she was pregnant and believed him to be the father. Chaplain denied responsibility and Barry, prodded by the FBI, filed a paternity suit against Chaplin. "Overnight, my existence became a nightmare," said Chaplin, describing the period after first becoming involved with Barry and the FBI's campaign.

Media coverage of the paternity suit was influenced by the FBI and its director, J. Edgar Hoover, who had long been suspicious of Chaplin's liberal political leanings, and began monitoring Chaplin's personal life in August 1922, in a file labelled 'Communist Activities'. Subsequently, they fed private and personal information to the media. John Sbardellati notes that the FBI "was quite willing to secretly disseminate information that could be used by columnists such as Hedda Hopper to smear Chaplin's public image." And in subsequent years, notes Jennifer Frost, Hopper would also instigate a "hate campaign" against Chaplin, because of his independence in Hollywood:

"[H]is financial independence made him invulnerable to the punishment soon to be meted out to other filmmakers accused of Communist sympathies during the Cold War and strongly supported by Hopper: the blacklist."

After an arduous series of trials, during which the judge refused to consider medical evidence of blood tests and expert testimony which proved Chaplin could not have been the father, Chaplin was nonetheless declared to be the father. Author Joan Mellon notes that the case against Chaplin was nearly ruined by Barry's character:

"The FBI's campaign was compromised by the character of the victim. Joan Barry, whom Chaplin had indeed promised to help with her fledgling career, was known as promiscuous, alcoholic, violent, erratic and suicidal. Barry had been caught shoplifting, writing bad cheques and attempting to extort money from rich men, not least J. Paul Getty. As the months passed, the FBI feared that 'Joan Barry might land in jail and our case would be ruined.'""

Mann Act case
In 1944, the FBI also indicted Chaplin for violating the Mann Act, which prohibits the transportation of women, in this case Barry, across state lines for sexual purposes. Chaplin had sent Barry a train ticket for her and her mother to visit him in New York. If found guilty, he could have faced up to 23 years in prison. Friedrich notes that "every once in while, not often, the federal authorities invoked this antique statute to harass someone they didn't like." During this period, Chaplin coincidentally received a phone call from Supreme Court Justice Frank Murphy, who warned him that some politicians he met said they were planning "to get Chaplin." He was subsequently cleared of all charges due to lack of evidence. Analysis of the FBI's files showed that besides supplying Hedda Hopper with confidential facts about Chaplin, the FBI "physically hid indications of judicial impropriety that, if known, would have forced the federal judge hearing the case to disqualify himself."

The cases did serious harm to Chaplin's public image and career as they were frequently headline news, with Newsweek calling the latter one the "biggest public relations scandal since the Fatty Arbuckle murder trial in 1921." According to Robinson, Chaplin could look forward to more problems, since although the paternity suit proved to be false and he was declared innocent of the Mann Act violation, "the mud stuck, and the FBI went on to manipulate a smear campaign charging Chaplin with Communist sympathies." "The war against Charlie Chaplin" would continue for several decades, notes historian Steven Ross, and he would soon be "labeled a Communist in a campaign of rumors and innuendoes."

Post war period
Public attitudes against Chaplin also affected the reception of his subsequent films. In 1947, after release of Monsieur Verdoux, based on the real-life story of a French murderer, Clare Booth Luce, the Legion of Decency and Catholic groups, launched a "vociferous anti-Chaplin campaign" against the film. Those attitudes were magnified by the fact that Chaplin refused to become an American citizen, claiming he was an "internationalist citizen of the world," which furthered the "vindictive campaign against him."

Soon after the paternity suit was filed, it was announced that he had married his newest protégée, 18-year-old Oona O'Neill. Chaplin, then 54, had been introduced to Oona by a film agent seven months earlier. In his autobiography, Chaplin described their meeting as "the happiest event of my life", and claimed to have found "perfect love". Chaplin's son, Charles Jr., reported that Oona "worshipped" his father. Chaplin and O'Neill remained married until his death, and they had eight children.