The restored Metropolis: my own feelings
This last Sunday night, for the first time in over 80 years, the German Expressionist movie Metropolis was shown, appropriately enough, on TCM. I posted the ink so everyone can go and check out the plot and such for themselves. What I'm writing here relates more to how the restored masterpiece of SF and cinema made me feel.
And be warned, this is going to be LONG.
First of all, there's the fact that this movie is visually awesome, even eight decades after the fact. I defy anyone to look at the scenes of the great city and not be astounded at what is shown. The only thing I can compare it to is the best work of Eiji Tsuburaya on the Toho tokusatsu films, or maybe the scenes of the city-valleys of Corsucant from the Star Wars films, and even then the comparison falls short. The city is a magnificent and terrible Art Deco masterpiece. It is a modern-day Tower of Babel, the glory of the world, which leads right into the next bit about the movie.
There is a stunning amount of Christian allegory in the film. The scene where Fedrer (the hero) in the undercity has a nightmare vision of workers marching hopelessly into the hungry mouth of Moloch; the simple yet beautiful cathedral of the workers set amongst the catacombs in which Maria preaches of the Tower of Babel, as compared to the massive and nearly empty cathedral of the overcity which is studded with gargoyles; and the more nightmarish imagery of the False Maria (a False Mary, leading the faithful into sin and destruction?) as she performs an obscenely erotic dance in the Yoshiwara nightclub, leading to lethal duels and suicide among the managers' children as they battle over her while she sneers contemptuously at them all (and you have got to see the looks on the actors' faces as they watch her; I finally know what destructive lust in the sinful sense looks like), and which culminates in her rising atop a statue of a seven-headed dragon with ten crowns, a literal Whore of Babylon... how did anyone ever miss this? Even Rotwang comes across as being as much a Satanic sorcerer as a scientist, with his home like an old witch's cottage as compared to the so very modern places where everyone else lives.
Ah, and Rotwang! Truly one of the early great villains in film, all the more so when one compares him and his plans to what is going on in Germany when the film was made. He is jealous of the city's builder Fedrerson for winning the heart of a woman they both loved, named Hel. He built his robot to replace her, crowing to Fedrerson that she will be "the first of a new humanity, a perfect race controlled by me". When Fedrerson, desperate to keep both his son and the workers in line, begs Rotwang for help, Rotwang complies by snatching Maria away from the workers and their children and transforming the robot into her likeness.
The way the actress playing Maria showed what I can only call the unhumanness of False Maria is eerie in its sheer perfection. Her movements at first seem very mechanical, as she greets Frederson by closing one eye in an incredibly slow wink, meant to be a sexual come-on but at the same time just looking so completely wrong it disgusts instead. Later, when she dances in the Yoshiwara, her movements are slightly smoother -- her dance is mechanically perfect, but done in such a way that everything intended to titillate sent chills along my spine. It's hard to see how anyone, even a gang of depraved young men, could be aroused by something that seems like a bad attempt at pretending to be human. Her movements and expressions are somehow 'off' by just enough to make her seem more horribly inhuman then when she was obviously a machine. And later still, when she urges the workers to destroy the machines they work on -- the very same machines that are keeping the city from exploding! -- her movements seem smoother still, but oddly birdlike. They're just too quick and jerky for a human being. Even some of the workers she's sending into a fever pitch of self-destructive rage seem unsettled by her presence.
And another point -- the conflict between the workers and the managers is handled with surprising sympathy for both sides. The managers, lead by Frederson, are on one hand callous and indifferent to the suffering of the workers who live in darkness to maintain their city of light; but on the other, all the good things they have are because of those same managers. And the managers may be foolish, but all the same they are shown as having a dream for a perfect or at least better world. They really just don't know how bad things have gotten in the undercity. They are like artists whose perfect creation justifies any sacrifice, but they don't bother to ask the workers if they ever wanted to make this sacrifice.
And the workers, well, while they are shown as decent and downtrodden souls, worthy of far better treatment then they get, at the same time when False Maria offers the quick and easy path of violence, they are all too quick to forget everything that the real Maria taught them and launch a wild riot, destroying the machines that make everything the whole city depends on -- and very nearly drowning their children when the city's water reservoirs burst. In an especially harrowing scene, the real Maria is in the undercity atop the shift change alarm, gathering what looks like hundreds of children together as they struggle through ever-deeper water to huddle around her. Meanwhile, above them, their parents dance what looks like a witch's sabbat (arms linked and kicking their heels high) before the ruined machines. That is, until Grot (the chief engineer) tells them what they've done:
"You fools! The city is below sea level! The water reservoirs were controlled by the Heart Machine, and now they've burst into the undercity! You've killed your own children!"
In short, neither side is without flaws or virtues. They have to recognize their common humanity (something that both Rotwang and False Maria strive to prevent) before Metropolis can become what Frederson wants it to be.
And one last bit is the nasty similarities between Rotwang and real world events just a few years in their future. A cunning and spiteful madman who, out of grief and jealousy, wants to see the whole world around him pluneg into the abyss (a sentiment shared by False Maria: after she tricks the workers into starting their riot, she returns to the Yoshiwara and dances before her crowd of worshippers, finishing with a maniacal look and a comment of, "Now let's all go outside and watch the world go to Hell!"); who uses lies and appeals to hate and fear to manipulate both the leaders and workers against each other and to their mutual destruction; and who wishes to destroy Metropolis simply out of jealousy of its maker Frederson ("His wife should have been mine! His city should have been mine! False Maria, you will kill his son. And we will destroy Metropolis!"); and whose schemes cause the people of the city to sacrifice their own children and homes for his lies...
Is Rotwang Satan or Hitler? And even if he is Satan, then he doesn't want to replace the creator (Frederson) so much as to cast him and everyone else down so he can laugh as he watches them lose everything.
Metropolis is, and will always be, one of the most powerful movies ever made.
And be warned, this is going to be LONG.
First of all, there's the fact that this movie is visually awesome, even eight decades after the fact. I defy anyone to look at the scenes of the great city and not be astounded at what is shown. The only thing I can compare it to is the best work of Eiji Tsuburaya on the Toho tokusatsu films, or maybe the scenes of the city-valleys of Corsucant from the Star Wars films, and even then the comparison falls short. The city is a magnificent and terrible Art Deco masterpiece. It is a modern-day Tower of Babel, the glory of the world, which leads right into the next bit about the movie.
There is a stunning amount of Christian allegory in the film. The scene where Fedrer (the hero) in the undercity has a nightmare vision of workers marching hopelessly into the hungry mouth of Moloch; the simple yet beautiful cathedral of the workers set amongst the catacombs in which Maria preaches of the Tower of Babel, as compared to the massive and nearly empty cathedral of the overcity which is studded with gargoyles; and the more nightmarish imagery of the False Maria (a False Mary, leading the faithful into sin and destruction?) as she performs an obscenely erotic dance in the Yoshiwara nightclub, leading to lethal duels and suicide among the managers' children as they battle over her while she sneers contemptuously at them all (and you have got to see the looks on the actors' faces as they watch her; I finally know what destructive lust in the sinful sense looks like), and which culminates in her rising atop a statue of a seven-headed dragon with ten crowns, a literal Whore of Babylon... how did anyone ever miss this? Even Rotwang comes across as being as much a Satanic sorcerer as a scientist, with his home like an old witch's cottage as compared to the so very modern places where everyone else lives.
Ah, and Rotwang! Truly one of the early great villains in film, all the more so when one compares him and his plans to what is going on in Germany when the film was made. He is jealous of the city's builder Fedrerson for winning the heart of a woman they both loved, named Hel. He built his robot to replace her, crowing to Fedrerson that she will be "the first of a new humanity, a perfect race controlled by me". When Fedrerson, desperate to keep both his son and the workers in line, begs Rotwang for help, Rotwang complies by snatching Maria away from the workers and their children and transforming the robot into her likeness.
The way the actress playing Maria showed what I can only call the unhumanness of False Maria is eerie in its sheer perfection. Her movements at first seem very mechanical, as she greets Frederson by closing one eye in an incredibly slow wink, meant to be a sexual come-on but at the same time just looking so completely wrong it disgusts instead. Later, when she dances in the Yoshiwara, her movements are slightly smoother -- her dance is mechanically perfect, but done in such a way that everything intended to titillate sent chills along my spine. It's hard to see how anyone, even a gang of depraved young men, could be aroused by something that seems like a bad attempt at pretending to be human. Her movements and expressions are somehow 'off' by just enough to make her seem more horribly inhuman then when she was obviously a machine. And later still, when she urges the workers to destroy the machines they work on -- the very same machines that are keeping the city from exploding! -- her movements seem smoother still, but oddly birdlike. They're just too quick and jerky for a human being. Even some of the workers she's sending into a fever pitch of self-destructive rage seem unsettled by her presence.
And another point -- the conflict between the workers and the managers is handled with surprising sympathy for both sides. The managers, lead by Frederson, are on one hand callous and indifferent to the suffering of the workers who live in darkness to maintain their city of light; but on the other, all the good things they have are because of those same managers. And the managers may be foolish, but all the same they are shown as having a dream for a perfect or at least better world. They really just don't know how bad things have gotten in the undercity. They are like artists whose perfect creation justifies any sacrifice, but they don't bother to ask the workers if they ever wanted to make this sacrifice.
And the workers, well, while they are shown as decent and downtrodden souls, worthy of far better treatment then they get, at the same time when False Maria offers the quick and easy path of violence, they are all too quick to forget everything that the real Maria taught them and launch a wild riot, destroying the machines that make everything the whole city depends on -- and very nearly drowning their children when the city's water reservoirs burst. In an especially harrowing scene, the real Maria is in the undercity atop the shift change alarm, gathering what looks like hundreds of children together as they struggle through ever-deeper water to huddle around her. Meanwhile, above them, their parents dance what looks like a witch's sabbat (arms linked and kicking their heels high) before the ruined machines. That is, until Grot (the chief engineer) tells them what they've done:
"You fools! The city is below sea level! The water reservoirs were controlled by the Heart Machine, and now they've burst into the undercity! You've killed your own children!"
In short, neither side is without flaws or virtues. They have to recognize their common humanity (something that both Rotwang and False Maria strive to prevent) before Metropolis can become what Frederson wants it to be.
And one last bit is the nasty similarities between Rotwang and real world events just a few years in their future. A cunning and spiteful madman who, out of grief and jealousy, wants to see the whole world around him pluneg into the abyss (a sentiment shared by False Maria: after she tricks the workers into starting their riot, she returns to the Yoshiwara and dances before her crowd of worshippers, finishing with a maniacal look and a comment of, "Now let's all go outside and watch the world go to Hell!"); who uses lies and appeals to hate and fear to manipulate both the leaders and workers against each other and to their mutual destruction; and who wishes to destroy Metropolis simply out of jealousy of its maker Frederson ("His wife should have been mine! His city should have been mine! False Maria, you will kill his son. And we will destroy Metropolis!"); and whose schemes cause the people of the city to sacrifice their own children and homes for his lies...
Is Rotwang Satan or Hitler? And even if he is Satan, then he doesn't want to replace the creator (Frederson) so much as to cast him and everyone else down so he can laugh as he watches them lose everything.
Metropolis is, and will always be, one of the most powerful movies ever made.