Der Letzte Mann/The Last Laugh (1924)

Country: Germany

Released: December 23th, 1924

Genre: Drama, Tragedy

Directed by: F.W. Murnau

Produced by: Erich Pommer

Written by: Carl Mayer

Finding a subtitled version for Der Letze Mann was an absolute bitch. At first I tried copying any inter-titles into bing translate but all I got in return was incomprehensible gibberish; google translate wasn't much help either. Then I tried just reading the synopsis on wikipedia, a terrible idea because knowing exactly what happens completely spoiled the enjoyment of the movie. Finally I found a version with subtitles in Portuguese and just let out a resounding "fuck it," hoping that my Spanish would be good enough. 

Thankfully it was.

The plot of Der Letze Mann is deceptively simple. Emil Jannings plays a nameless doorman at a swanky hotel in Germany. Despite being relatively poor he has gained the respect of the neighbours thanks to his job and swanky uniform. Things go south for him when his boss deems him too infirm to carry people's luggage and "demotes" him to a washroom attendant. Ashamed, our beleaguered protagonist steals his old uniform and tries to pass it off like nothing happened but is soon discovered by his friends. Ridiculed, he is forced out of his home to sleep in the bathroom of the hotel. The final scene ends with a kindly nightwatchman covering his huddled frame with a jacket.

Or at least that's where it should have ended. The film proceeds to provide a completely unnecessary and absurd epilogue wherein our hero receives a massive inheritance out of bloody nowhere and becomes a millionaire. The last scene is literally just an extended sequence of him and the watchmen flaunting their newfound wealth.

What a fucking cop-out.

Ignoring these last twenty-minutes or so however it's a very good movie. I can't venture to say great but that's not really the movie's fault; again, reading the wikipedia article and spoiling the movie kind of sucked any enjoyment out of it. 

Regardless the film is still solidly done and more importantly has something intelligent to say: namely on the hero-worship revolving uniforms in Germany (a holdover from Prussian militarism) up until the end of the Second World War. Jannings' uniform is distinctly army-like and he carries himself with the pompous swagger of a general. He even salutes his neighbours whenever he greets them and absolutely revels in their reverence. However he's not a bad guy. The film goes to great lengths to show that he's a gentle soul, bumbling and clumsy sure, but kind nonetheless. Which is why his fall from grace is so tragic, because it's for such shallow reasons. He loses his uniform and all his respect vanishes. To modern eyes it's almost comical how sanctimonious the characters get when a uniform is involved, but there's still some truth to those kinds of attitudes even today. Hell, just look at the States and their warrior-worship.

It feels almost cliche to talk about World War One at this point but I'm going to do it anyways because it's both relevant and because not enough people know much about the Great War Fuck you'd think World War Two happened two years ago what with how much it still influences popular culture, but World War One is oddly absent despite being far more influential in the "grand scheme" of things. Basically it was a big fucking deal, and it'll probably continue being a big fucking deal in European cinema, especially German cinema, until 'ol Adolf comes around. Not surprisingly this movie isn't exactly pro-war. Unlike Dr. Caligari, which criticized the political establishment and more or less absolved the sleepy German populace of any blame, Der Letzte Mann squares it's cites smack-dab on the German people and their admiration of military culture. Jannings gets heaps of love despite not doing anything but ware fancy clothes, yet when he loses his position he's cast aside almost instantly.Despite its critiques of military culture it never feels forced, probably because the film doesn't make use of a single inter-title. Seriously, save for one moment there isn't a single word of written dialogue or exposition. This is showing versus telling in its purest form with nothing but the acting and the camera to tell the story.

Speaking of which the camera work also deserves a mention. Largely regarded by critics as the first film to use shots as a form of expression in and of itself, the camera in Der Letzte Mann feels far more alive than previous films. I was surprised by how distinct the tracking shots looked, especially in the scene where Jannings' character walks through his neighbourhood after being discovered as a fraud. The long focus of the camera as it follows Jannings march through his neighbours' jeers helps emphasize how long the ordeal must have felt for his character. I also enjoyed the dream sequence where Jannings fantasized about being able to lift luggage like it was a balloon. While the blurred effects are heavy handed they're effective, and I found the simplicity of his fantasy endearing.

Overall a solid film throughout. A few of the scenes could have been shortened a bit and the last twenty minutes should have been cut-out entirely, but otherwise a good movie with a good lead performance. Check it out, just make sure you skip the epilogue.

La Roue/The Wheel (1923)

Country: France

Released: February 17th, 1923

Genre: Drama, Romance

Directed by: Abel Gance

Produced by: Abel Gance

Written by: Abel Gance

It sure has been a while, huh? After a few distractions things are getting back on track, and what better way to end a week-long hiatus than with a four and a half film about incest!

Wait, what?

Yes it seems that Schnieder, praise be his name, has chosen to bestow upon me a love letter to incestuous relations in the form of La Roue. Why? Who knows. All I know is that it was four hours of my life I'm never going to get back so as far as I'm concerned everything can go fuck itself... much like protagonist Sisif wanted to fuck his daughter.

Did I mention the incest yet?

The film opens with a train wreck as engineer Sisif (Séverin-Mars) stumbles across a baby who's parents were killed in the crash. Taking pity on her he decides to name her Norma and raise her along with his son Elie. Years later Sisif is a miserable alcoholic while Elie (Gabriel de Gravone) has taken up violin making and Norma (Ivy Close) is enjoying her life at the train depot, celebrating that she has not a care in the world. But cares do come in the form of Jaques de Hersan (Pierre Magnier), some rich guy who wants to marry Norma, and if watching these old movies has taught me anything it's that horny rich guys are nothin' but trouble. Anyways Sisif gives his blessing for Hersan to take Norma away, confessing to his lust for her and hoping that getting her far away will solve everything.

Spoiler alert!

It doesn't.

Instead Elie becomes depressed, especially when he finds out that Norma wasn't biologically his sister and that he missed out on some sweet ass poontang. Also bummed out about not getting to fuck his daughter, Sisif copes by naming his engine 'Norma,' getting blinded in an accident, and trying to commit suicide (for like the eight time) by driving 'Norma' into a dead end. 
And that's all just part one. 
Then Sisif is reassigned to the alps with his son, Norma visits them because she is dissatisfied with her marriage, Hersan gets jealous of the (incestuous) relationship she and Elie might be having, he kills Elie before dying himself, Sisif blames Norma for some reason, she becomes destitute, and the rest of the movie is just her living with the increasingly blind Sisif without his knowledge until she's finally discovered and forgiven.

So as you can see there's a lot going on in this incest movie, most predominantly the incest. I guess we might as well talk about the incest. 

Holy shit why is there so much incest!?

This movie really demonstrates the differences in social expectations of the past versus today. The film doesn't really treat Sisif or Elie's infatuation like all that big a deal, at least not the incestuous aspects of it. At first it seems to, what with Sisif's guilt at pulling a Woody Allen and being sexually attracted to his adopted daughter. That alone would have made for an interesting film and would have explored some pretty risqué dynamics. However when Elie starts getting hot for Norma nothing really negative comes of it beyond the fact that she's already engaged. No one really brings up the fact that they're brother and sister. The whole thing is just so god dammed jarring too. These characters are convinced for most of their lives that they're biological siblings, so all the flirting they do can be waved away as the director's misunderstanding at how siblings behave. Yet despite growing up as siblings, behaving as siblings (save for one or two of the aforementioned flirty moments), and being convinced they're siblings, the second Elie finds out Norma was adopted all that goes out the window and he can't wait to get in her pants. Had the film just focused on Sisif's relationship with Norma his guilt would have made sense but now with Elie in on the act it becomes clear that the incest was never the issue, that some other aspect of his infatuation was causing him guilt. Is it the age difference? That's the only other issue I might see but it ain't exactly as bad as incest here, guys! Everything feels weirdly normalized when it shouldn't be.

Just a quick side-note: I don't need to explain why this is messed up, right? Like, no one's gonna be shrugging and using their non-biological status as family members as a justification for the relationship? I assume we can all tell why this is creepy as all hell. I mean, ignoring the exploitative power dynamics in play at taking advantage as your position as a father/brother figure to extract sexual favours and the rape-like nature of said actions, it's still really gross.

Which is a problem because it undercuts the whole movie. Any interesting shot, any great character moment or impactful scene is always overshadowed by the creepy spectre of familial relations that hangs over the whole thing. It's just kind of hard to silence that voice in your head constantly whispering "They're siblings, they're siblings, they're siblings." And that's not even mentioning how weird it is that a father and son are pining for the same girl (their god-damned daughter/sister) and no one finds that odd.

Still, that voice does get quieter over time and I did almost forget how all the love-interests are related. If you can do that then you may find a pretty solid movie. Many of the editing choices and shots are interesting, particularly the rapid-fire editing used to cut frantically between images during suspenseful moments. Even though it doesn't make up for the overbearing use of iris shots (a trend in film I can't wait to leave behind) you do feel the innovation on display in many of the cinematographic choices. Plus despite the complaints above Sisif is great. This is really his story, and he is fascinating to watch. His alcoholism and guilt are very well portrayed by Séverin-Mars, who has a commanding presence on screen, and the final shot of his death was actually kind of heart wrenching as was when he learned of his son's death. 

There are the makings of a fantastic film trapped beneath the crushing length and weird love-triangles. Which is what makes said love-triangles all the more frustrated. Had they just changed the dynamic, say, given Sisif a wife and made Norma a close family friend not a family member, then the oddly glossed over incest would have been avoided.

As it stands though La Roue is a fantastic film with a few fatal flaws. Whether or not said flaws will ruin the film really depends on the person. For me, it made an otherwise great movie into just a good one. Maybe you can ignore the problems, or maybe they'll disgust you beyond redemption. I don't know how contemporary audiences must have felt, but judging from the glib attitude the film takes for the whole thing they probably couldn't care less. That or I'm missing something here. Either way take a look and decide for yourselves.

Our Hospitality (1923)

Country: USA

Released: November 19th, 1923

Genre: Comedy

Directed by: Buster Keaton

Produced by: Joseph M. Schenck

Written by: Clyde Bruckman

Oh Mr. Keaton, you truly are a delight to watch.

I'm glad I preceded Our Hospitality with Safety Last because it helped put silent era comedy a little bit into perspective. It makes sense that these decades were the Golden Age of slapstick. After all slapstick is by far the most physical style of comedy there is, making it perfect for silent cinema. This created a somewhat false expectation when it came to humorists of the era, namely that they would all be the same. I mean, once you've seen one pratfall you've seen them all, right? And really how long can you keep jokes fresh and original when your basically pantomiming? Therefor for the life of me I could not figure out why some comics stood the test of time while other faded into obscurity? Why is it that Chaplin remains a giant of pop-culture while Harold Lloyd is all but forgotten by all but the most well-versed film buff? It's not like they can be all that different fundamentally, slapstick is slapstick after all.

Watching Safety Last and Our Hospitality has changed my perspective, and has given me a new appreciation for physical comedy.

But before getting into that let's dive into the story of Our Hospitality first. Our protagonist is Willie McKay (Keaton), a young man originally from West Virginia who moved to New York when he was but a babe after his father was murdered by a member of the Canfield family. The McKays and the Canfields have been killing each other for generations, spilling blood over a senseless feud. If that sounds familiar it's because it's based on the Hatfield-McCay feud that went on in West Virginia in the late 19th century. For the uninitiated I strongly suggest you look it up (or click this here link), this is one of the most famous stories in American folklore and has been used as a reference by the likes of Disney, Mark Twain, and even World of Warcraft.
Anyways Willie is largely disinterested in the feud and when he's invited to inherent his old father's property he readily agrees. He meets a young Virginia Canefield on the trainride there and they immediately hit it off, neither of them knowing who the other is. Willie is invited to Virginia's house for dinner where her father and brothers discover his identity and attempt to kill him. Shenanigans ensue and the film ends with Willie and Virginia getting married, ending the feud.

So right off the bat there are some noticeable differences between Lloyd and Keaton's films, namely that the plot for Keaton's is a little more complex. Now I use the word complex loosely here, after all this ain't fucking Memento. However there definitely feels like there was more thought put into it than Safety Last, which was basically just a string of wacky hijinks loosely linked together via a cookie cutter story. That's not to say that Our Hospitality is devoid of cliches but here the jokes feel more imbued within the plot, like they each compliment each other. The bits are strong along by the story and vice-versa. Now this does lead to less actual gags than Safety Last since it's harder to come up with jokes without derailing a story than just pausing to have a comedic sequence, but it does make the jokes feel heftier. I'm not going to say one format is better than the other but I will say that I definitely preferred Our Hospitality's narrative style. It was far more engaging and offered a few more twists than I was expecting. It's also worth mentioning that the first fifteen minutes or so Our Hospitality doesn't even try to be funny, instead telling a rather serious tale about murder and loss. I've got to say that's pretty ballsy for a comedy and it really pays off when you get more invested in the characters and their plights as a result.

Even the comedic style between the two couldn't be more different. Lloyd's character is the cause of the comedy, i.e. it is by his direct action that all the zaniness is going on around him. He knocks a cop over, he screws with his companions, he forces himself into all these crazy situations. He is also by far the sillier of the two, having more expressive fascial expressions and overall being more clown-like. Essentially his jokes are wackier. Keaton on the other hand is the opposite. He plays the straight man in the story, the guy who's just caught in the middle of it all. His humour is reactive, not active, and as the straight man the comedy is not derived from his goofy persona but rather from his being out of his element. We can't help but laugh at his incredulous expression when everything is going so wrong and he's stuck with a bunch of lunatics. It's worth noting that he has probably the best deadpan expression I have ever seen, something he will perfect by the time he produces The General. Seriously it's amazing how much mileage he gets from one fucking look, and it feels almost unfair how funny it is at times. All this results in a much dryer style of slapstick. There are less gut-busters than there would be with say Lloyd (in the context of the era mind you), but the jokes had me grinning far more because they were so cleverly and subtly woven within the rhythm of the narrative. Plus while he doesn't stand out as quickly as Lloyd Keaton felt more charismatic on screen. My favourite moments in the movie are early on when the Canefields are trying to murder Willie, who is completely oblivious to their bullets, and the dinner scene, when Willie figures out what's going on but the Canefields refuse to kill him under their roof for reasons of honour (hence the title), leading to a delightfully tense scene where both parties try to put up a facade for the clueless Virginia.

So is Keaton funnier than Lloyd? I would say so, which is pretty embarrassing considering how much I bitched about Lloyd's omission from the list (something I stubbornly stand by). If nothing else Keaton feels smarter about his comedy, like he's able to balance between humour and storytelling to hit a sweet spot. It's not perfect of course. I'd be lying if I said if it could have used a few more jokes and while my memory of it's fuzzy I recall enjoying The General more, but we'll have to wait and see until then to be sure. Until then I'll just say that Our Hospitality was a fun ride.

SPECIAL FEATURE: Safety Last (1923)

Country: USA

Released: April 1st, 1923

Genre: Comedy

Directed by: Fred C. Newmeyer

Produced by: Hal Roach

Written by: Hal Roach

Welcome to "Special Features!" What is the Special Feature you may ask? Simple. When going over Steven Schneider's 1001 Movie's You Must See Before You Die list I noticed it had some notable exemptions. Movies that by all accounts are considered classics and one would expect to be included but, for some reason or another, aren't. Seriously there are some glaring omissions, a lot of which I was hoping to watch and write about. So instead of just ignoring them I decided to compile and watch them alongside all the other movie in chronological order, squeezing them in where their spot on the list would be had they been included. I plan on being pretty selective on which omissions to watch, since one thousand movies is already a crap-ton, but expect a few more of these in the future.

So without further adieu, this is the critically renowned but editorially snubbed Safety Last.

If you were to ask the average movie goer to name an icon of silent comedies they will invariably answer Charlie Chaplin, maybe Buster Keaton if they were knowledgeable of older films. Odds are though they wouldn't mention Harold Lloyd, at least not by name. Harold Lloyd is a real conundrum of cinematic history. Despite being one of the fathers of movie comedies, up there with Chaplin and Keaton in terms of influence and contemporary fame he has since been largely forgotten my most mainstream audiences. In fact I bet you'd be surprised to learn that he grossed higher than Chaplin, and even was awarded an honorary Oscar before him (although to be fair that was also mostly fuelled by Chaplin's less than kosher politics during the McCarthy years). For all intents and purposes Lloyd was one of THE comedians of his time making it pretty odd that he's not on a list of greatest movies ever. How the fuck is it that one of the best comedians of silent films is ignored but I still have to watch a white guy squint for two hours in Broken fucking Blossoms? Ah well, what do I know? I'm just some dick on the internet who probably couldn't tell his ass from a hole in the ground. I just find it a bit perplexing that Lloyd would be ignored so thoroughly.

Which is especially disappointing since Safety Last is pretty great.

Most famous for producing arguably the most iconic image of the silent era (this one), Safety Last chronicles the story of Harold Lloyd as... Harold Lloyd. Yeah, an odd quirk of this movie is that characters are all named after the actors portraying them. Even stranger still they aren't credited by their names so much as by their role in the story. So even though his character's name is Harold he is officially referred to as "the boy" in the credits. 

We'll just call him Harry to avoid confusion.

So Harry has just moved to the city, hoping to make a fortune and eventually marry his sweetheart "the Girl," referred to as Mildred and played by Mildred Davis because that doesn't feel weird at all. It's worth noting that Davis would eventually become Lloyd's wife, which is kind of sweet. 

Anyways after a series of comedy set pieces Mildred surprises Harry in the city, which is problematic because he had told her he was the big-shot owner of the department store he worked at. Desperate to make money Harry convinces his boss to give him one thousand bucks in exchange for organizing a publicity stunt wherein his buddy "Limpy" Bill (Bill Strother, credited as "the pal" because I guess by this point Lloyd just wanted to fuck with us) would climb a sixteen story building. Bill unfortunately becomes indisposed when he's accosted by a grudgeful cop (Noah Young), forcing Harry to climb it himself. The film ends with Harry and Mildred meeting on the roof and walking off into the sunset.

Like Dr. Caligari it's hard to talk about Safety Last properly, which is a problem most comedies have. A comedy is only as good as its jokes, and beyond saying that they're good I can't really explain much else without spoiling most of the. I mean what am I supposed to do, describe all the punchlines and talk about how totally funny they were when Lloyd did it? What kind of review is that? To quote E.B. White, "Explaining a joke is like dissecting a frog. You understand it better but the frog dies in the process." Basically this doesn't leave me with much to talk about.

Suffice it to say that I was pleasantly surprised by how funny the movie was, despite its limitations. It didn't have me struggling for breath or anything, but it sure as hell tickled me, which is damn impressive for a comedy without any dialogue. I was genuinely impressed by the number of jokes that took me off guard, I was expecting them to all have been done to death by this point a la Nosferatu, but a lot of them still held up as pretty fresh. Keep in mind that as a silent film the humour is exclusively slapstick, but this is slapstick at its finest. Lloyd is truly a master of his craft and as an amateur comedian I can't help but marvel at the level of control he has on screen. Every facial expression, every pratfall, every breath is perfectly timed. The choreography for some of the more intricate jokes is absolutely delightful, and one can really feel the level of skill on display. Just when I thought the film was about to lose steam it threw another surprisingly clever joke at me and I was immediately sucked back in.

There isn't really isn't much in the way of thematic depth for this one. It's about as inoffensive as a movie can get, which was pretty much Lloyd's schtick. Perhaps that's why he fell by the wayside behind other comics. While Chaplin was pushing the envelope by offering a glimpse into the hardship of the Great Depression in Modern Times or satirizing fascism in The Great Dictator (another special feature I'll visit in the future), Lloyd stuck to "safe" stories. This is by no means to disparate his work or his talent, after all it ain't easy pulling off good comedy, but the plot itself is fairly generic. It's an archetype common to comedies of this time: a down on his luck dreamer hopes to make it big and woo his love interest; nothing all too groundbreaking here. Still the little romance is pretty sweet despite being cliche, mostly because Lloyd and Davis have great chemistry on screen.

What Safety Last offers is a series of jokes strung along by a basic plot, and in that sense it delivers. Lloyd is amazing to watch, and the dexterity he displays is incredible. Some of the sequences are so quickly timed I could swear there was some kind of special effects trickery on display if it all didn't feel so genuine. And that feeling of tactile realness really adds something special to the film.

I think it's fair to say that I enjoyed Safety Last. The jokes, even if not all completely original (at least with the foresight of over a century of comedy) are still well executed and fun to watch. It is a film that has aged surprisingly well and can still produce quite a few chuckles.

La Souriante Madame Beudet/The Smiling Madame Beudet (1922)

Country: France

Released: 1922

Genre: Drama

Directed by: Germaine Dulac

Produced by: Charles Delac

Written by: André Obey

Well this was a nice change of pace. La Souriante Madame Beudet is not a grandiose film. It's not big in scale or has that many characters. It isn't even all that long, with the longest version I could find clocking in at just under forty minutes.

What it is though is good.

Really, really good.

The story follows the titular Madame Beudet (Germaine Dermoz), a dissatisfied housewife married to  a wealthy oaf (Alexandre Arquillière). Because of its surprisingly short running time not a whole lot happens story wise, but what it lacks in length it makes up for in effective storytelling. Monsieur Beudet stifles his wife's creative outlets, namely her piano playing, and whenever she seems melancholic or dissatisfied he pulls an empty revolver out of his desk and threatens to commit suicide. He's made this threat so often that its lost most of its power and she simply shrugs it off. One night Monsieur Beudet is invited to the opera. When the Madame refuses to join him he threatens to kill himself again before belittling her, and locking up the piano. That night while he's away Madame Beudet's depression reaches its boiling point and begins hallucinating about her husband. In a desperate attempt to free herself from him she loads his revolver in the hopes that he'll kill himself during one of his episodes. The next morning she has a change of heart and tries to secretly unload it but is discovered by her husband, who puts the gun up to his temple again. She panics and he accidentally shoots a window. Shocked at the loaded gun he rushes to comfort her, thinking she was trying to kill herself, and declares his undying love for her.

That's it. Nothing is really learned. Nothing is resolved. And all the characters kind of end up where they started. 

And that's what makes it so perfect.

The movie feels like a Sylvia Plath poem. Dermoz is great as Beudet, with her initial performance being that of a demure, slightly depressed housewife. Every smile is small and, while sincere, expresses a complacent sadness. As the film progresses and the husband becomes more belligerent so does her misery. She becomes overtaken by it, slowly descending into madness until she starts hallucinating. However it never strays into the absurd. You legitimately feel for this character and for the situation she's been forced in. Her husband is an absolute cretin and a slob, but he's not evil, he's just a dick. In the end, like in Körkarlen he does fear for her wellbeing. But its not a happy ending by any means. No one dies but no one grows either, at least not that we see. Perhaps it is implied that the suicide scare improves his attitude towards his wife but I don't think that's the intention. It is still a loveless marriage, at least from her point of view, and she is still dissatisfied. More bittersweet than satisfying, the ending helps drive home the point that there is little our protagonist can do. She is trapped.

Much like Körkarlen depth is found in Madame Beudet subtleties. These are real people. There is no Doctor Mabuse or Karamzin to point to as 'the bad guy.' These are both equally shitty, equally sympathetic characters. I wish there was more to say, but it is a short film. However even that feels like a positive in this case. There's an skillful economy of storytelling on display that other films like Dr. Mabuse or Les Vampires could learn from. It's just long enough to establish the characters, the conflict, display a brief arch, and have an effective ending. No scene feels superfluous or out of place, everything feels like it has a well-calculated purpose. Of all the films I've seen so far it is probably the closest that comes to being flawless. Does that make it my favourite? No, Dr. Calagari still probably holds that distinction. But it is a damn fine film, and well worth the time.

Foolish Wives (1922)

Country: USA

Released: January 11th, 1922

Genre: Romance, Melodrama

Directed by: Eric Von Stroheim

Produced by: Irving Thaldberg

Written by: Eric Von Stroheim

It's not a good sign for your movie when I'm bored less than ten minutes in. It's an even worse sign when I'm bored and confused.

This is not entirely fair to Foolish Wives to be honest. I misread the list and was expecting a Buster Keaton movie. It's not easy standing in for Buster Keaton. Still that doesn't negate the fact that this movie was boring, and considering the kinds of films I've seen so far that is saying something. It has its bright spots of course: Eric Von Stroheim is great as the sleazy Wladislaw Karamzin and his look is instantly iconic, which makes sense considering he's dressed like a gay Bond villain. The sets were pretty cool too, but at this point I'm really grasping for compliments. All in all a dull movie, but what kind of sub-par film critic would I be if I didn't at least try to talk about it?

Basically, the film stars Stroheim's Karamzin, a sleazy conman who, after getting rejecting by the Village People, decides to travel to Montecarlo with his two associates in order to seduce and scam a rich American named Helen Hughes (Miss DuPont). What follows is two hours of rich white people indulging in the kind of decadence that would make Caligula blush. I'm talking real, "drinking the tears of child labourers" kind of degeneracy here. Christ, Louis IV would tell these guys to chill out. It's worth noting that the original version was over six hours long! Six hours of watching rich people be rich. Now I understand that the fact the other four hours are lost to history is a tragedy as far as film historians are concerned,  but I could not be more relieved. If I had to sit through another minute of this I'm pretty sure I would have blown my brains out all over my laptop. 

But I digress. After doing nothing for two hours except hit on women, manipulate his infatuated maid (Dale Fuller), and act like an all around cunt, Karamzin brings Hughes to a tower to romance her, only for said tower to catch fire. Karamzin escapes the flames unscathed but Hughes is injured, prompting Karamzin to be cast out by his peers for cowardice. He is then killed by the father of another one of his many girlfriends. The end.

Couple things to note. Why is Karamzin a coward exactly? He just leapt into the firefighters' trampoline before Hughes. Is it because he didn't abide by the sacrosanct "ladies and children first" rule of gentlemanly conduct? It's not like he used her to cushion his fall or anything. Seems a bit dickish to high-road him like that, especially when its coming from bunch of guys who use the blood of the proletariat to oil the amoral gears of capitalism.

Boy, I'm feeling weirdly socialistic today.

Рабочие всего мира, объединяйтесь!

Maybe that's why I don't like this movie. It was after all the most expensive movie of its day, wielding the first budget to surpass one million dollars. It sure doesn't feel like it though. Griffith managed to build the walls of Babylon and recreate some of the greatest battles of the ancient world with a tenth of the budget. And what did you do, movie? You built Montecarlo in your backyard. Why? Why not just save some cash and film on location at Montecarlo. I know traveling wasn't that easy in the 1920s but surely it wouldn't cost a million dollars? At least use it dammit! Shove in some more panoramic shots or something. 

Absurd budgets aside this movie feels like a subtle critique of the European upper classes, and European culture in general. World War One ended four years before this movie's release and the scars were still fresh, as was the bitterness. Following the Great War there was a real rejection of European Civilization by much of the world (this was a war that inspired figures like Ho Chi Minh and Jawaharlal Nehru). How could there not be? For many it was the so called "civilized" culture of Europe that had led to the most tragic war in modern history. Was that really what all that so-called progress led to? Death and destruction on an apocalyptic scale? This was the war that prompted America to embrace isolationism and turn its back on its Western cousins. This disillusionment is palpable throughout the movie, as the villains are aristocrats and nobles, most of whom are portrayed as greedy or aloof to the plight of others. Or maybe I'm reading too much into it; I didn't really pay attention after all. I was too busy looking for some grass to stare at and ease my crushing boredom.

As I sat in front of my computer gazing at Stroheim cleaning his monocle, eyes long-since glazed over, I could help think, "is this it?" Is this all there is? Are were condemned to walk upon this Earth, this speck of dust floating through infinity, with nothing to do other than fill our precious time with mindless entertainment? For what is life but an endless parade of distractions, meaningless images and sensations designed to release chemicals into our brains and prop the illusion of purpose. Watching the characters suffer through their miserable lives I soon saw the face of God, and it was Hollywood, it was Electronic Arts, it was Apple, it was every peddler of entertainment using its wares to mask the terrible truth: That our lives are unimportant. Half-way through this film I ceased to watch Stroheim and his compatriots and found myself staring into the abyss, and in the brief moment wherein my mind touched the void I realized that we do not matter. That we never mattered. And that no matter what we do, no matter how much we suffer and hurt ourselves we will never matter.

Oh, and the lighting was also pretty good I suppose.

See you next time! 

Häxan/The Witches (1922)

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Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens/Nosferatu: A Symphony of the Night (1922)

Country: Germany

Released: March 4h, 1922

Genre: Horror

Directed by: F.W. Murnau

Produced by: Enrico Dieckmann

Written by: Henrik Galeen

Having just watched Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens I must say I'm disappointed. Nosferatu was supposed to be one of the big ones, up there the Das Cabinet Des Dr. Caligari in terms of cultural influence. It was a milestone in horror and is still regarded as a cinematic masterpiece to this day.

Hell, even Spongebob referenced it at one point.

Yet despite all of that I could not be more underwhelmed, and for a few moments while watching it I felt like I was going to fall asleep.

Yeah, harsh.

Nosferatu is your typical vampire story and therein lies its main problem: it's too iconic for its own good. Every beat, every plot point, every trope has been repeated in almost every non-sparkling vampire movie ever made. Watching it I unconsciously started going down a mental checklist of every cliche it used.

• Creepy, suspicious invitation to an Eastern European country? Check.
• Scared, superstitious villagers that beg the protagonist to leave their cursed lands? Check.
• Coachmen dropping off the protagonist before his destination, saying "this is as far as I go"? Check.
• Foreboding castles on mountaintops? Check.
• Stout, spooky henchman referring to the main Vampire as "master?" Check.
• Coffins, mind-control, and virginal victims? Check, check, aaand check.

Just throw in Gene Wilder and Teri Gar and you've yourself an awesome Mel Brooks spoof.

I mean this has got to be one of the most acute cases of the "Seinfeld is Unfunny" trope I've ever seen. Basically when Nosferatu was first released it was so groundbreaking that its style has been completely woven into the fabric of the genre, so much so that looking back on it now it boarders on self-parody. When our main character Thomas Hutter (Gustav von Wangenheim) finds Count Orlock (Max Schreck) sleeping in a coffin and starts panicking at the sight I just thought "of course he's sleeping in a coffin. He's a vampire, that's what they do. What do you expect?" It's easy to forget that at the time that must of been a terrifying revelation to viewers. Vampires have become such a cultural staple that watching characters who are completely ignorant of their mythology feels odd and unfairly makes them look like morons. When Hutter wakes up with two bite marks on his neck and waves them off as mosquito bites I was stunned. "Mosquito bites? What the hell are you talking about, man? It's obviously a vampire bite, have you never seen Dracula?"

Of course he hasn't! This is 1922, Dracula wouldn't come out for another ten years. The result of all this familiarity is that it doesn't feel scary. It's been done so much that when the film presents itself this earnestly it comes off as laughable.

My favourite example of this by far is when Hutter shows a photo of his wife Ellen (Greta Schröder) to Orlock, to which the Count says, "is this your wife? What a lovely throat!" I'm serious, I copied that verbatim. For a moment I felt like I was watching a Simpsons Treehouse of Horror special. "And you better not put garlic on the pizza we ordered," he goes on to say. "I hate garlic! And stakes through the heart, you could say I think they're a pain in the neck. And you know what, not a fan of sunlight to be honest. Not because of any sun allergy or anything, because I'm a vampire. Whoops, did I say that out loud? You better forget that part."

Hutter then shrugs and says "Well that was odd. But he did say to forget that vampire bit so I have no problem leasing him the house next-door to mine." That last part wasn't a joke, that pretty much is the plot of the movie: Orlock wants to buy property in Hutter's home town of Wisbourg and Hutter is sent to sign the deal with him. 

And this is really where the movie begins to fall apart for me. The second half feels disjointed. Orlock travels to Wisborg by boat in his coffin and a subplot about a plague pops out of nowhere completely ending any interest I had in the original story. 

The film just isn't scary. It isn't even eerie or spooky or haunting or anything. It's just dull. There are some exceptions of course: the scene on the boat where Orlock kills the crew is claustrophobic and creepy (and would have made for a decent horror movie all on its own), and Orlock himself is pretty damn spooky what with his long nails and sharp, gaunt features. But any terror I may have felt towards him evaporated when the film shows him wandering the streets of Wisborg luging his coffin on his shoulders, a visual so silly it would have made a great gag in Hotel Transylvania (which, by the way, is probably the best Adam Sandler movie to come out in the last, like, ten years. I know that's not saying much but still, it's not bad).

None of this is helped by the absolutely baffling music choices made for the movie. Some of the music felt straight out of a Disney cartoon, and it's completely mind-boggling. Every time something scary is going on on screen suddenly a funky jazz snare starts playing and I feel like I'm a watching Mikey Mouse and Duke Ellington jamming in the Cotton Club, all while a vampire is killing people.

So can I recommend Nosferatu for the five of you reading this? Well, it's tough to say. Max Schreck is a fucking boss and looking back on it I'd be lying if I said it wasn't interesting watching the origin of one of the most important mythologies in history. Some of the lighting is also neat, with the last scene in particular making great use of Orlock's shadow to create one of the most famous visuals in horror movie history. Plus a brief scene with some flies and venus flytraps was genuinely eerie and probably had had some thematic symbolism (I wouldn't know, I was pretty sleepy by that point). But is that worth sitting through what is essentially a b-grade parody? As much as it pains me to say it, no. Everything in this movie has been done better in subsequent iterations, and when the credits rolled I was left wishing Bela Lugosi had been in it. 

Ah well, here's hoping Dracula makes up for it.