Showing posts with label german expressionism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label german expressionism. Show all posts

Monday, September 12, 2016

Destiny – Why Cinema Exists


Plunging once more into the world of German Expressionism, this time I’ve decided to take Fritz Lang under my belt with my first feature from the acclaimed director. Though not as visually outstanding as 1920’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari or even as beautifully detailed as The Golem, the film still stands as one of the most ambitious so far in early cinema.

Essentially serving as the inspiration for 2012’s Cloud Atlas, the film follows a woman who loses her husband to the hands of the Grim Reaper and is then transported into the souls of three other women in order to save his life. If she can save just one individual, she can have her husband back. Essentially, Lil Dagover (also from Dr. Caligari) gets to play a German, Persian, Asian, and Venetian woman in four parts in an attempt to save the love of each of their lives.

However, Dagover may not be on the same level of many other actresses of the time (she ain’t no Gish!), she still gives it her all and at least Bernhard Goetzke gets a chance to shine as Death incarnate. Though given very little screen time, he creates this wonderful incarnation of death – similar to Svennberg’s in The Phantom Carriage – as an immortal man who is disheartened by his line of work involving the mortality of those he wishes he could save, but cannot.


If nothing else, the film is to be admired for its sheer ambitious notions. The idea of transporting across time and space, and even through the bodies and souls of four main characters (with each character in the story played by the same actors), must have been mind-blowing at the time. Despite how insane of a concept, though, the film perfectly captures the universality of love, grief, sorrow, and conflict across the many lives on Earth as well as the inevitability of death. Even if the stories are all a bit cheesy, and not as well-acted (I had a similar issue with Dagover in Dr. Caligari as well), the ideas at play are perfectly executed due to Fritz Lang’s wonderful cinematic language. In fact, it’s stated that both Luis Buñuel & Alfred Hitchcock were both so impressed with the film that it finally convinced them of the power of cinema and what it could accomplish.


On top of the wonderfully ambitious story, the expressionistic qualities on display in the film are admirable as well. Though not as vibrantly insane as the ones in Caligari, there are still many jarring images and special effects (such as the tiny soldiers in the Asian sequence) that bring the film to life through sheer imagery. Credit where credit’s due, the German artists of the time certainly saw the potential in cinematic storytelling and ran with it the way very few others did at the time. Even if the narrative was not as beautifully written as the premise might have hinted, the ambitious intent and the solid direction more than make up for it. And at the very least, it influenced my favorite director to start making films and maybe that’s enough to push it up a full star rating.


7/10


Monday, August 22, 2016

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and What Lurks Within


I will start this review by saying that this review contains spoilers. I realize it’s almost a century-old film, but as I had just seen it for the first time, there are obviously those who will be seeing it for the first time, too and saying “well, it’s been around forever!” is no excuse to spoil the fun for anyone. Anyway, that being said…

Robert Wiene’s 1920 hit film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is not only a film that must have been ripe inspiration for Tim Burton in terms of its design, but is also a fantastic exploration into the mind of mental illness. As many films have tried since, this must have been one shocking film of its time by offering the audience an unreliable protagonist that forces the viewer to think much more deeply about the conflict in the film – as well as the conflict outside their front door. The film follows a man named Francis as he tells the story of the mysterious Dr. Caligari and the sleepwalker living in his cabinet.

Seeing as this was my first foray into the world of German Expressionist filmmaking, I was not expecting such elaborate set designs and gothic style make-up or costuming that would make any Hot Topic regular feel at home.


However, long before the idea of Gothicism became a sweeping teenage trend, the use of intricate, topsy-turvy sets serve to show the world as seen through the eyes of someone with mental illness with ingenious creativity. While the story is perhaps a bit too poorly paced for my liking, this expressionist art on display in this film certainly proves itself to be about the most creative use of imagery since George Méliés’ A Trip to the Moon eighteen years prior.

Putting aside my unabashed love for the design of the film, there are still quite a few flaws for me in terms of the story itself. Despite it only being a little over an hour long, its pacing is all over the place. Perhaps this was the intention of the filmmaker, but for me it felt too much like a rollercoaster. At first the film moves too abruptly to setting up location and characters, then slows down for a large chunk of the film where it hardly explores the wonderful avenues it sets itself up for in terms of conflict or mystery, before it finally reaches its conclusion before any mystery is developed. As a film that is about attempting to uncover who is murdering the townsfolk, it offers very little time in the whole detecting department, and almost right away answers the questions the viewer has.


But if the ending is any indication, maybe there is more here than meets the eye. I’ve read many others discuss the film as almost an early indication of what was to come during the time of World War II many years later. For instance, Dr. Caligari represents the possessive and brainwashing attributes of the German government and Cesare, his somnambulist science experiment, represents the mindless killing machines of Adolf Hitler’s Nazi regime. We always wonder, ”how did a man convince an entire nation that one race was superior to all others and then force them to murder millions for no reason whatsoever?” Perhaps that’s the same question we ask in Dr. Caligari, albeit to a much smaller level. Is it the fascist ideal that’s mentally ill or are we, as bystanders, the ones locked in the madhouse? Maybe it’s reading too much into a film when it was long before Nazism was even a thought in the world, but it’s still a very intriguing thought.

Judging the film solely based on what it must have meant back in 1920, it’s a fine piece of creepy entertainment. A bit lacking in the mystery department, and could’ve easily explored so many avenues that seemed infinitely exciting and would’ve made for a much more worthwhile film for me, but for what it is, it’s certainly one of the best of 1920s so far. In particular, the artistry present in the technical aspects is especially admirable and really draws you in as a viewer into this fantastical world that has served as an inspiration for many filmmakers since.


8/10