Metropolis

Germany | 1927 | Directed by Fritz Lang

Logline: In 2026, in a city divided between the poor workers and the wealthy city-planners, the son of the city’s master architect falls in love with a working class prophet who predicts the coming of a savior to mediate and unite the two classes.

Not just the crowning achievement for German silent cinema, but simply an extraordinary, astonishing movie (which cost in modern terms around $200 million and used 37,000 extras!) Dozens of filmmakers have been influenced by Metropolis, as it was the first movie to deal intelligently, and with great insight and foresight, with the infrastructure of a futuristic society.

But more significantly it is a tale about love and power, and the abuse of both of them. The thinkers and the workers, the division between them, and the struggle for identified unity: “The mediator between the head and the hand is the heart”. Working from a screenplay by Thea von Harbou, who wrote the original novel, Fritz Lang employed a state of the art production design and art direction team, and broke new ground with the amazing special effects (many of which look like elaborate optical effects, but were actually achieved in-camera), and the clever use of miniature models.

Indeed it is the look of Metropolis which is so memorable, in particular the cityscapes and the machine-man (which George Lucas shamelessly borrowed for C-3P0). There is a distinct and profound sense of visual poetry to Fritz Lang’s mise-en-scene. Being a silent film the narrative has to rely on a vivid and distinct visual narrative, and Lang tells his story with a powerful command of composition; the workers trudging forward toward the elevators to take them down to the underground factories, as the exhausted workers trudge out of the elevators in parallel.

While the sets and compositions make you gasp in wonder, it is the key performances that bristle with a kind of charisma you just don’t find in modern cinema. Brigitte Helm who plays the dual Maria roles stands head and shoulders above the rest of the cast, as excellent as they all are (and keep in mind this is silent cinema acting). Helm’s maniacal performance as the evil android Maria is something to behold, infused with a dark sexual energy, her arms held like witch’s talons, her eyes glistening with conviction.

Metropolis is very much a landmark movie; there is something deeply progressive about both its thematic content and its overall design. It may have suffered over the years, having the negatives of many of its original scenes lost, being released in various truncated and altered versions (there was a colourised version set to the music of Georgio Morodor released in 1984. I’ve never seen it, and although I admire Morodor, I can’t bear the concept of it). Queen even borrowed its iconic imagery in their video clip to Radio Ga Ga.

The score on my beautifully restored special edition DVD is the original music composed by Gottfried Huppertz that was played live at the movie’s premiere. It’s stunningly emotive and wonderfully modern for its time. However, listening to certain sections, especially during Maria’s (unintentionally hilarious) Erotic Dance, I couldn’t help but notice how similar John Williams’ famous score for Star Wars sounded. A coincidence?

If you’ve never seen a silent movie, start your cinema history lesson with Metropolis. It will impress the pants off of you, trust me.

TRAILER:

Metropolis DVD (2-disc special edition) is courtesy of Madman Entertainment, many thanks!