The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

This Halloween I am delighted to share a film that a reader, Hunter author of Soul of the Plot, suggested I see.  The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a brilliant German silent film from 1920.  It’s horror is felt through the uncanny story and eerie images throughout the film.  For film fans not quite comfortable with silent film, but fans of horror, this is a great piece to check out.

In the film, Francis (Friedrich Feher) and Alan (Hans Heinrich von Twardowski) are friends competing for the heart of Jane (Lil Dagover).  At a carnival, they see a side show featuring Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss) and his somnambulist.  The somnambulist is named Cesare (Conrad Veidt) and perpetually sleeps unless awakened and controlled by Dr. Caligari.  He claims that Cesare can predict the future, so Alan asks him how long he has to live.  Cesare replies, “Til dawn tomorrow,” and Alan is brutally murdered that night.  He is the latest in a string of mystery murders plaguing the town since the carnival started.  Francis wonders if Dr. Caligari is the cause, but his investigation may put those he loves, and himself, in danger.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is considered to hold a few firsts in film history.  In 1920, a horror genre had not yet been created and this is seen to be the first horror film ever created.  And not to ruin the ending, but this film is also considered to be the first with a twist ending.  Don’t worry, that isn’t giving too much away, for a while it was expected of every M. Night Shyamalan film, though the ending of Dr. Caligari is even more unexpected than Bruce Willis being dead the whole time.

This is also considered one of the most famous of director Rober Wiene’s films and one of the most influential of the German expressionist era, right alongside Metropolis.  Partially, I believe that comes down to the new genre and inventive plot, but also comes from the stylistic set design.  It’s said that the sets were made of paper, with many of the dramatic shadows painted on.  The town and buildings have an almost cartoonish and abstract quality with curious angles.  It gives the film a more eerie vibe, like being in a nightmare.  The total cost of the sets was only about eight hundred dollars.

What a way to end this year’s month of horror, with the original horror film.  The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a film I enjoyed very much, and until it was brought to my attention, I had never even heard of it.  I do encourage you to check it out, it is currently available on Netflix instant, a true gem of the silent era, and the beginnings of a unique genre.  Happy Halloween!

“You fools, this man is plotting our doom!  We die at dawn!  He is Caligari!”

Nosferatu

When it comes to determining how great a horror film is, it always comes down to what you see, or don’t see.  Dialogue can be elaborate plot, but can bog the visual adrenaline down.  The thrill of terror rides on whether what we see is a monster or a zipper down the back.  The creepiest vampire images I have ever come across all come from the silent “symphony of horror,” Nosferatu.  

Nosferatu is a silent German Expressionist vampire film from 1922.  Here, our main vampire, Count Orlok (Max Schreck), is a sickly pale and skinny creature with pointy ears, creepy teeth and long, claw like fingers.  His presence on screen is so powerful and terrifying, every image of him still gives me the creeps.

Nosferatu is based very closely to Bram Stoker’s Dracula, with a few deviations.  The words vampire and Dracula are never used, instead nosferatu refers to vampires and our Count Dracula is Count Orlok.  However, since director F.W. Murnau did not get permission to use Stoker’s material, he was sued.  Some sources say that the lawsuit called for all copies of the film to be destroyed.  Whether that is true or not, the film was restored in 1994 and today is is available on Netflix Instant.  I believe that is quite a feat for a ninety year old film and shows just how important it still is.

In the version available on Netflix, the film is tinted.  For some people, this may be a bit discouraging.  I wasn’t too happy about it, at first.  Within a few minutes I realized that the different colors designated time, with blue tint is most obviously representing night.  Designating these time shifts visually is so important because the entire film was shot in the daylight.  We certainly can’t have vampires around during the day.

Fun fact and **spoiler alert**: this film is the origin of the myth that sunlight destroys vampires.  Who would have imagined it would bring such a huge contribution to vampire lore!

Seeing Nosferatu on a big screen, in a dark theater, with a live symphony playing is one of my cinematic dreams.  The music, as well as the film, alone are master pieces.  Even as I watched it on my couch in the middle of the day, I found it very creepy.  That pale, unblinking face, those long reaching fingers, and the build up to perfect terrors is so fun and should not be missed.  Nosferatu is one of the 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die and a must see for any film fan, whether you’re into horror or not.

“Is this your wife?  What a lovely throat.”

Metropolis

Metropolis is a silent film made by Fritz Lang, released in Germany, in 1927, at the height of German Expressionism.  While its idea of a working class and intellectual class finding a mediator to help restore harmony can feel like a half baked fairy tale, the influence of this film has made it an extremely important piece of early cinema.

In the film, Freder (Gustav Fröhlich) is the privileged son of the city’s creator, Joh Frederson (Alfred Able).  One day, Freder falls in love with a working class girl, Maria (Brigitte Helm).  In his attempt to find her, he witnesses a giant machine explode, taking many of the workers with it.  It becomes Freder’s awakening to how cruel the machines that run the city are to the lower class, forced to work at them.  Freder brings this to his father’s attention, which only gets an assistant fired, and summoned down to the depths where the workers toil.  Freder takes it upon himself to help the workers and experience their lot in life.  There, he finds Maria, preaching about a mediator who will come and bridge the gap between the working class and the intellectuals.

Meanwhile, Rotwang (Rudolf Klein-Rogge), the local inventor and mad scientist character, is building a robot woman based off of his obsession with Joh’s wife who died giving birth to Freder.  As Joh learns of Freder and Maria’s love, he agrees to let Rotwang kidnap Maria to give the robot her appearance in order to discredit her preachings to the workers.  But Rotwang has more sinister plans with his creation, and soon all of Metropolis is in great peril.

What I enjoy most about Metropolis is its visual qualities.  The whole film feels artistically amazing.  The architecture of the city  is wonderfully eclectic with a good amount of art deco, some very futuristic elements and even a Gothic cathedral.  The skyscrapers are colossal, look to be connected by a monorail system and have little vintage airplanes gliding between them.  In the depths, the workers look like they are inside an industrial nightmare with giant turbines whirling and steam blowing everywhere.  The machines are in constant demand, making the workers keep in a steady, slightly frantic movement.  The image of repeatedly moving giant clock hands to sets of blinking lights is unforgettable.

The fact that Metropolis has survived for over eighty years and has been restored with only a few minutes missing feels like a great feat of film.  For many decades, nearly a quarter of this film was missing.  It had been released and restored many times, but in 2008 a good chunk of the film was found in Argentina.  Today, it is widely available, including instantly on Netflix.  There, the quality of the film is beautiful and crisp most of the time and any missing pieces are summarized with text.

The influence Metropolis has spread through modern cinema is seen in countless films.  The robot shown helped inspire the look for C3PO in Star Wars.  Rotwang’s style has become the look of countless mad scientist characters, along with the decor of his lab.  The idea of robots that look just like humans is a key part of Blade Runner.  In fact, most science fiction urban dystopia films can be traced back to Metropolis.  Dark City and Gattaca spring to mind first, even Batman’s Gotham city share similar characteristics.  And Metropolis has influenced more than cinema.  Besides the Batman comics, the creators of Superman used Metropolis as his home city.  And it is said that the film helped spread the art deco movement throughout America and Europe.

“It was their hands that built this city of ours, Father.  But where do the hands belong in your scheme?”