When I saw his eyes at the end of The Great Dictator, and I knew that it was him rather than him playing a part, I fell in love with him.
The depiction of the temporal nature of Chaplin's preferred medium and life. His inability to competently stretch out to other mediums whilst being this self-referential is his paradox; it reinforces his Holism and the sad loss of the silent-era. We are left with a broken shell, and the film reflects this, but the subtext remains profound. The film's vast, superficial imperfection makes it greater than itself; it is a sacrifice, as was his life. This significance will resonate with me eternally.