Showing posts with label 1927. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1927. Show all posts

Tuesday, 12 June 2018

Metropolis
Dir: Fritz Lang
1927
*****
Metropolis is one of the greatest, most influential films in the history of cinema. Fritz Lang’s classic German expressionist, science-fiction epic will be remembered for being the first feature-length film of the genre and the birth of a certain futuristic vision of the future that is now embedded in the human psyche. It’s one of the most profound films ever made, almost like the invention of a new colour. Made in Germany in 1927 during the Weimar Period, Metropolis is set in a futuristic urban dystopia and follows the attempts of Freder, the wealthy son of the city's ruler, and Maria, a poor worker, to overcome the vast gulf separating the classes of their city. The style of the film draws influence from Bauhaus, Cubism and Futurism but also went on to influence each house of design. Much of the set is a combination of Gothic meets art deco but Lang later commented that "the film was born from my first sight of the skyscrapers in New York in October 1924". He had visited New York for the first time and remarked "I looked into the streets – the glaring lights and the tall buildings – and there I conceived Metropolis." The film was met with a mixed reception upon release with critics finding it pictorially beautiful, lauding its complex special effects, but accusing its story of naiveté and accusing it of having a distasteful Communist message. With hindsight and retrospect we can see the film differently and see just how pioneering it really was. The film clearly draws on biblical sources for several of its key ideas, such as the story of the Tower of Babel and the Whore of Babylon. The political aspect of the story stems from the First World War and the culture of the Weimar Republic in Germany, the view of American modernity, fascism, and also communism. Lang’s comment on fascism is somewhat ironic given that for the scene where the worker's city was flooded, Helm and five-hundred children from the poorest districts of Berlin had to work for fourteen days in a pool of water that Lang intentionally kept at a low temperature. Lang was a perfectionist, his art came before everything else and at all costs. The story begins in the future, the year of 2026, in the city of Metropolis. Wealthy industrialists reign from high-rise towers, while underground-dwelling workers toil to operate the underground machines that power the city. Joh Fredersen is the city's master. His son Freder idles away his time in a pleasure garden but is interrupted one day by the arrival of a young woman named Maria, who has brought a group of workers' children to witness the lifestyle of the rich. Maria and the children are ushered away, but Freder, fascinated, goes to the machine rooms to find her. Witnessing the explosion of a huge machine that kills and injures several workers, he also has a hallucination. The machine is Moloch and the workers are being fed, some naked, into the flames within it. After the hallucination ends and he sees the dead workers being carried away on stretchers, he hurries to tell Fredersen about the accident. Grot, foreman of the Heart Machine, brings to Fredersen secret maps found on the dead workers. Fredersen, upset with his assistant, Josaphat, that he was informed about the explosion and plans from Freder and Grot and not from Josaphat, fires him. Freder secretly rebels against Fredersen by deciding to help the workers, after seeing his father's cold indifference towards the harsh conditions they face. Fredersen takes the maps to the inventor Rotwang to learn their meaning. Rotwang had been in love with a woman named Hel, who left him to marry Fredersen and later died giving birth to Freder. Rotwang shows Fredersen a robot he has built to "resurrect" Hel. The maps show a network of catacombs beneath Metropolis, and the two men go to investigate. They eavesdrop on a gathering of workers, including Freder. Maria addresses them, prophesying the arrival of a mediator who can bring the working and ruling classes together. Freder believes that he could fill the role and declares his love for Maria. Fredersen orders Rotwang to give Maria's likeness to the robot so that it can ruin her reputation among the worker to prevent any rebellion. Fredersen is unaware that Rotwang plans to use the robot to kill Freder and take over Metropolis. Rotwang kidnaps Maria, transfers her likeness to the robot and sends her to Fredersen. Freder finds the two embracing and, believing it is the real Maria, falls into a prolonged delirium. Inter-cut with his hallucinations, the false Maria unleashes chaos throughout Metropolis, driving men to murder and stirring dissent among the workers. Freder recovers and returns to the catacombs. Finding the false Maria urging the workers to rise up and destroy the machines, Freder accuses her of not being the real Maria. The workers follow the false Maria from their city to the machine rooms, leaving their children behind. They destroy the Heart Machine, which causes the workers' city below to flood. The real Maria, having escaped from Rotwang's house, rescues the children with the help of Freder. Grot berates the celebrating workers for abandoning their children in the flooded city. Believing their children to be dead, the hysterical workers capture the false Maria and burn her at the stake. A horrified Freder watches, not understanding the deception until the fire reveals her to be a robot - The Maschinenmensch, now iconic cinema symbol, created by sculptor Walter Schulze-Mittendorff. Rotwang is delusional, seeing the real Maria as his lost Hel, and he chases her to the roof of the cathedral, pursued by Freder. The two men fight as Fredersen and the workers watch from the street. Rotwang falls to his death. Freder fulfills his role as mediator by linking the hands of Fredersen and Grot to bring them together. Although it is now considered a classic, critics at the time weren’t so keen. The New York Times critic Mordaunt Hall called it a "technical marvel with feet of clay". H. G. Wells accused it of "foolishness, cliché, platitude, and muddlement about mechanical progress and progress in general." He faulted Metropolis for its premise that automation created drudgery rather than relieving it, wondered who was buying the machines' output if not the workers, and found parts of the story derivative of Shelley's Frankenstein, Karel Čapek's robot stories, and his own The Sleeper Awakes. Wells called Metropolis "quite the silliest film." Nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels on the other hand was impressed with the film's message of social justice. In a 1928 speech he declared that "the political bourgeoisie is about to leave the stage of history. In its place advance the oppressed producers of the head and hand, the forces of Labor, to begin their historical mission". To Lang’s dismay, both Goebbels and Adolf Hitler himself announced themselves as fans of the film and when Goebbels met with Lang he told him that he could be made an honorary Aryan despite his Jewish background. Goebbels told him "Mr. Lang, we decide who is Jewish and who is not." Lang left for Paris that very night. The harshest critic of the film however was Lang himself who said that he enjoyed working on it very much but didn’t much care for the finished piece. History is a funny old thing, you could spend days comparing Metropolis to historical events that happened before and after it’s production and indeed the uncertain future we face. You could also spend longer listing the many influences Metropolis has had in film, television, art, literature and even music. ‘Iconic’ seems to be a woeful understatement but films don’t come any more historically important, influential or fascinating as Lang’s Metropolis.

Tuesday, 16 May 2017

The Lodger (AKA The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog)
Dir: Alfred Hitchcock
1927
*****
The great Alfred Hitchcock directed many a masterpiece throughout his long career, and as different as they all are, there will always be something uniquely special about his 1927 silent classic; The Lodger: A Story of the London Fog. Starring Marie Ault, Arthur Chesney, June Tripp, Malcolm Keen, and the great Ivor Novello, it was Hitchcock's third feature film. The Lodger is based on a novel of the same name by Marie Belloc Lowndes, about the Jack The Ripper murders, and on the play Who Is He?, a comic stage adaptation of the novel by the playwright Horace Annesley Vachell that Hitchcock saw in 1915. It was unlike any other film at the time, a complete departure from many of the melodramas and the operatic horrors that it has been compared too. The image of Ivor Novello, the Lodger, standing in the doorway is as chilling today as it was in the 20s. Novello had a huge say in the character, which saved Hitcock's bacon somewhat. Originally, the film was intended to end with ambiguity as to whether or not the lodger was innocent. When Novello was cast in the role, the studio demanded alterations to the script. Hitcock remembered "They wouldn't let Novello even be considered as a villain. The publicity angle carried the day, and we had to change the script to show that without a doubt he was innocent". Personally, I think this worked for the better, and Hitchcock did well to never show the true villain onscreen. Bizarrely, and maybe because it was so revolutionary, producer Michael Balcon was furious when he first watched it and nearly shelved it altogether (and Hitchcock's career along with it). After considerable bickering, a compromise was reached and film critic Ivor Montagu was hired to salvage the film. Hitchcock was initially resentful of the intrusion, but Montagu recognised the director's technical skill and artistry and made only minor suggestions, mostly concerning the title cards and the reshooting of a few minor scenes. The result, described by Hitchcock scholar Donald Spoto, is "the first time Hitchcock has revealed his psychological attraction to the association between sex and murder, between ecstasy and death." Indeed, The Lodger introduced themes that would run through much of Hitchcock's later work: the innocent man on the run, hunted down by a self-righteous society, and a fetishist sexuality. Hitchcock had clearly been watching contemporary films by Murnau and Lang, whose influence can be seen in the ominous camera angles and claustrophobic lighting. While Hitchcock had made two previous films, in later years the director would refer to The Lodger as the first true "Hitchcock film”. Beginning with The Lodger, Hitchcock helped shape the modern-day thriller genre in film. It was also something of a first for Hitchcock fans.  Alfred Hitchcock appears sitting at a desk in the newsroom with his back to the camera and while operating a telephone (5:33 minutes into the film). This is Alfred Hitchcock's first recognisable film cameo and was to become a standard practice for the remainder of his films. However, Hitchcock's cameo only happened because the actor who was supposed to play the part of the telephone operator failed to show up, and Hitchcock filled the breach at the last minute. It's a good example to show anyone who would suggest that silent films were somehow limited and couldn't show really suspense, horror, intrigue or terror. It's a magical film in many respects, the true grandfather of many a great thriller and a bonafide classic without a doubt.