Secret Beyond the Door (1948)

 

M (1931) **

The original title of this classic 1931 German film was Murderers Among Us. Though Hitler had not come to power yet, his little friends, the Nazis, had achieved great success in recent Reichstag elections. So, when they saw this title they naturally assumed it was about them--you would think this admission would have had a bigger effect on the German population. Anyway, they tried to derail director Fritz Lang’s production, via, not surprisingly, death threats. Though they weren’t right about many things, the Nazis and their reliance on mob mentality were essentially a key underlying theme. In the end, the name was simply changed to M. Two years later, with the Austrian madman fully in charge, Lang thought it best if he leave Germany. Unlike the Nazis, he was right.

Based on the real-life case of the Monster of Dusseldorf, Peter Kurten, this German Expressionistic film about the hunt for a child killer is Fritz Lang’s greatest talking picture. Not only was it provocative storytelling at its best, it was also one of the biggest influences on the development of film noir. Darkness, both internal and external, is at the core of this picture.

Peter Lorre plays Hans Beckert, a pathologically-driven serial killer of children. In the beginning of the film we learn that 8 children have been murdered over the past year. We see a blind man (Georg John) selling balloons and a little girl, Elsie Beckmann, taking the hand of a whistling man who buys her a balloon. A ball, the simple toy of a child, rolls down a hill and comes to a rest—and so has little Elsie. The murder takes place off-screen, but Lang uses Elsie’s balloon to show us all we need to see: now separated from her empty hand it ends up ensnared in telephone wires.

With angry parents demanding justice, the police begin to feel threatened and turn their investigation toward the seedier side of town: the criminal underworld. Seeing their activities strongly scrutinized by the police, the criminals, led by Shranker (Gustaf Grundgens), must now join in the search for the killer to ensure their own survival. Lang uses intercut scenes to show how both police and criminals plot strategies to get the killer—in essence saying there is no difference between the two groups. They decide to place those least likely to be noticed to set up surveillance: beggars. Again, Lang is making a social comment, especially when you consider what was going on in Germany at this time.

When the balloon seller hears a man whistling Edvard Grieg’s “Hall of the Mountain King” he remembers that a man was whistling the same tune the day of Elsie Beckmann’s murder. He tips off a nearby beggar, who follows Beckert leading a girl into a candy store. After Beckert throws an orange peel on the sidewalk the beggar pretends to slip on it. Catching Beckert as he slips, he places a “M” on Beckert's shoulder, via his chalked palm. Beckert is now, literally, a marked man. In addition to this, the police have now tracked a postcard sent to the newspaper by the killer to Beckert’s apartment. When they search his room they find clues that link him to the crimes: Ariston cigarettes and a red pencil.

When the little girl he’s about to kill notices the “M” on his back and offers to wipe it off Beckert realizes he’s caught and runs into an office building. Schränker sends his men to search the building. Not knowing what is happening, a night watchman sounds the alarm. Just before the police arrive, the criminals find Beckert and leave the building—all except Franz (Friendrich Gnass), who now becomes the suspect. To save his own skin, Franz tells the police his friends have taken Beckert to an abandoned distillery to stand trial.

At his trial, Beckert attempts to explain that he can’t be held accountable for his actions because he does them unwillingly. It is an evil inside him that compels him to kill. He utters the classic line, “Who knows what it feels like to be me?" I find it especially interesting that his judges, the criminals, are wearing long leather coats instead of robes—another nod to the Nazi’s? Yet, before the criminals can inflict their brand of justice, the police arrive and take Beckert away. At his “real” trial, crying mothers await the verdict of the killer of their children and one says, “One has to keep closer watch over the children. All of you." No wiser words were ever uttered in Germany in the 1930s!

There are very few German films of the 1930s (with good reason) that capture the sense of doom that looms during this period. Lang uses lighting, specifically chiaroscuro, and high-angle shots to emphasize the evil that looms above. It is a menace that can’t be seen, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. It is foreshadowing (literally) at its best.

It is apt that Lang would use Edvard Grieg’s “Hall of the Mountain King” from Peer Gynt to identify Beckert to his victims and the viewers. As this opera is all about identity crisis. I suppose Lang took great pride in the fact that he himself was the actual whistler of this tune, since Lorre couldn’t do it himself.

Finally, the choice of Peter Lorre, with his bulging, sad eyes and strange ability to make sympathetic (and creepy) grimaces, was a wonderful choice for Beckert. This role elevated his career, but also typecast him as the villain for years to come. He, like Lang, had to flee Germany and the Nazis.

A must-see on many levels: cinematic, societal, and historical.

Metropolis (1927) **1/2

“The mediator between the head and hands must be the heart.” ...Wait! Don’t stop reading! I’m really NOT blogging about what my fortune cookie said tonight. I’m just trying to tell you the moral of this 1927 silent classic. But, if you were wondering, my lucky numbers are 2, 6, 23, 27, 29, and 32...

Fritz Lang directed this science-fiction epic about the struggle between workers and capitalists living in a futuristic world. While having a jolly good time in the Eternal Gardens, Freder, the care-free son of the Master of Metropolis (played by the great Abel Gance), meets Maria, a prophetess from the Workers’ City who opens his eyes to the harsh realities of the workers’ world. He witnesses the many hardships the workers endure with their hands so that he and the rest of his class can live pleasurable lives.

As the plot unfolds it is revealed that the workers are engaging in secret activities. The Master of Metropolis goes to the resident mad scientist, Rotwang, for help in revealing the workers’ plans. Here he is introduced to Rotwang’s newest invention: a machine woman who is to take the place of Hel—the Master’s dead wife and Rotwang’s lost love. When the men overhear Maria prophesize that a mediator will appear (who just happens to be Freder) and make the lives of the workers better the Master orders Rotwang to mold the machine in Maria’s image so they can use it to mislead the workers. And so, Rotwang kidnaps Maria and with the help of some nifty (for the time) special effects he turns the machine woman into Maria’s evil twin (no, this is not a soap opera). He then programs the machine to destroy everything that belongs to the Master (his ultimate revenge for having lost Hel) which, of course, is Metropolis. First, she dances in the nude and seduces the capitalists of Metropolis into committing the seven deadly sins for her—mostly murdering one another. Next, he uses her to urge the workers to destroy the machines, which leads to Evil Maria detonating the heart machine, which causes the city to have a major power failure and massive flooding where the workers children are. Luckily, Maria escapes and she and Freder rescue the children. Meanwhile an angry mob captures Evil Maria and burns her at the stake, revealing her as nothing more than an android. In the end, Maria and Freder (who represents the heart of reconciliation) announce that there will be an alliance between the ruler (the brain) and the ruled (the hands). To say this message didn’t go over well in the U.S.S.R. would be a mild understatement.

This film was a huge box office failure and almost bankrupted Germany’s UFA Studio—the film cost 7 million reichsmark. Lang saw his film mercilessly cut several times and no original master survives. Nonetheless, this film is a visual spectacle with elements of German Expressionism and Art Deco in the overall set design. The special effects are impressive for 1927, most notably the use of mirrors to place actors in miniature sets (later used by Hitchcock in Blackmail). The original music by Gottfried Huppertz is also an added bonus.

The story itself is a bit preachy for my taste, but I have to admit I enjoyed the film. I especially enjoyed the scenes in Rotwang’s laboratory and who can forget how Hel looked and moved when she first came to life. This is an important piece of sci-fi film history and a visual dynamo.

Dr. Mabuse: The Gambler (Dr. Mabuse, der Spieler) 1922 **

Germany, 1922: inflation is running wild (people took wheelbarrows with them to collect their wages and buy bread), a little known man is just a year away from his first attempt at a fascist revolution in a beer hall, and Germans are flocking to see Fritz Lang's Dr. Mabuse, Der Spieler (The Gambler).

The film follows the hijinks of a master criminal, Dr. Mabuse, who is also a master of disguises: gambler, innkeeper, businessman, stage performer, psychiatrist, etc. He is no run of the mill criminal, though. His crimes range from, just to name a few, theft, collusion, kidnapping, false impersonation, and murder. Broken into two parts, the first part of the film introduces the audience to this unrepentant rogue and his criminal counterparts. The second part of the film exhibits the depravity of Dr. Mabuse and his decline into full-force madness. The end of the film is extra creepy, as machines and statues come to life in Mabuse's mind--the special effects are advanced for the time.

German audiences loved this film. Why not? The film is just as dark and bleak as most of their lives were. Just like Mervyn LeRoy's I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang is a great American representation of the Depression, Lang's Dr. Mabuse is a great example of the German mindset in the early 1920s. Hitler didn't just pop out of nowhere in 1933--he'd been plotting since the end of WWI in 1918.

A classic silent that is a good illustration of the time period in which it was made. In addition, there's a bit of nudity thrown in for shock value.