March 7, 2010

#2: I Must Penetrate the Heart of His Secret!

(Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari, Robert Wiene, 1920)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is bad. Not bad in a good way, not bad in an "I don't understand old movies" way. It's just bad. The acting, even by the standards of the year it was released (1920), is hammy and over the top. The story is incredibly convoluted, especially for a time where audiences expected somewhat straightforward plots.

The film is, apparently, supposed to be a metaphor for the rising tide of fascism in Germany during the 1920s, following the severe economic downturn of World War I. But we're dealing with German expressionism here, which means that (almost literally) NOTHING IS WHAT IS SEEMS. There is never an outright mention of politics of any kind in the movie, which leaves the viewer to interpret the sets and the dialogue however they wish. Buildings that are curvy and free-form? That symbolizes art and creative freedom. Or maybe they represent a government giving its people the illusion of freedom while they still have none. Or maybe the entire story takes place in the head of a mental patient. Now is the appropriate time to let your brain melt.

The best part about The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (and I use "best" loosely) is the dialogue, and only because it translates poorly to a modern setting. Anyone with a juvenile sense of humor (Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!) would get a serious case of the giggles from lines like "I must penetrate the heart of his secrets!" (and now you know why we chose that title).

I'm still not sure why people regard this movie so highly. It must have been one of the first expressionist movies to actually work, and thus befuddle its audience so much that they don't understand it at all, forcing them to think that it's art. It could also be that modern film students don't know why it's good, but are forced to fake affection for it due to scholarly peer pressure. Maybe everyone should just lift the wool off each other's eyes, join hands and sing in harmony, "Let's never watch The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari again!"

---

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari a prime example of why I never would have made it as a film studies major. Dr. Caligari is widely considered to be a deeply influential example of German Expressionist, but I just don't understand what all the fuss is about. It's probably just that early film, especially of the silent variety, isn't really my schtick, but I honestly found watching The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari to be pretty excruciating. Additionally, I have to admit that we cheated on this one a little. We actually decided to take on this project after we saw The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, but the film was extremely unenjoyable, so we decided we would just let it go. It was only about a week before, and neither of us wanted to waste two dollars to rent it and watch it again. So we shrugged our shoulders and decided that, just this once, we would count a previously viewed movie as part of our experiment.

I'm not going to go into the plot of this film all that much, partly because it's still not clear to me what happened and partly because I've been putting off writing the particular entry and I don't really remember what happened. You see, we viewed this film roughly 7 weeks ago for the film class that Jack is taking. It was the first meeting of that class, and I'd heard a lot about this movie so I decided to tag along to watch it. I kind of wish I hadn't, but then I'm kind of glad I did, because if I hadn't we'd have to watch it sometime in the future with Jack possessing full knowledge of just how boring and weird it is.

I will say this about The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari: the sets are really cool. They play into the German Expressionist genre beautifully, being just realistic enough to be recognizable as buildings and trees and things, but abstract enough to create an amazingly dreamlike setting. This is especially effective due to the fact that one of the main characters is a somnambulist (which is a great word), and the entire film ends up being a bizarre dream anyway.

I kind of wish I had more to say about this film, especially since so many film scholars hold it in such high esteem, but that's really all I've got. It's weird, but visually it's kind of cool. I'm glad I've seen it, but I'll certainly never choose to watch it again. And, really, that's all there is to it.

3 comments:

  1. Ok, I just watched the film and I have to take issue with your characterizations. First to suggest that the acting is poor, even by the over the top emotive standards of the silent era, is if I may say, wrong. The emotive gestures are very standard. Also, I felt the plot was fairly clear. Francis begins by telling the story of the murders of people in his home town, perpetrated by a sleepwalker. As he tells it he is driven to find the murderer after his friend is killed, and this drives him to discover that the director of the local asylum is responsible, driven mad by his desires to crack the mysteries of the mind. But in a twist, we are shown that Francis never did any of this, and himself is a mental patient, who has projected his mania onto the director. Sure, not much happens in the end, outside of learning the guy is nuts, but much less has happened at the end of several Twilight Zone episodes, and that hasn't stopped people from praising it as a visionary show. If anything, it is groundbreaking in presenting a very early cinematic twist ending.

    Which gets at why I think the movie must be examined for reasons other than plots. Film students and critics cite it not just for it's (at the time) novel narrative structure, but for the cinematography. The sets are, as both of you agree, phenomenal, but they exist not just as background, but as a means to interact with the actors. Make note of the blocking in every scene. The contrasting shades make sure that the important figures are clearly visible and that your eye draws to them. None of this is on accident, something often lost on a more casual viewer. The scene may be chaotic and twisted, but at no point are you unsure where the actors are, or are heading.

    Then there are the scenes that clearly worked to influence later filmmakers, most notably the murder of Alan shot in silhouette which would work as inspiration for the shower murder in Psycho.

    But maybe I'm being a bit too harsh. I remember back when I was your age there were several films considered classics that I couldn't understand why. Vertigo bored me to tears. But now, ten years later, I'm finding I can begin appreciating them. Maybe you'll reevaluate Caligari in another ten years.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I totally see what you're saying. I think revisiting it in 10 years is a great plan. I'll probably forget why I didn't like it by then.

    I think the main reason I didn't like "Caligari' was the setting I saw it in. I didn't get to watch it in the comfort of my own living room, but in a crowded lecture hall with a professor who did his best to keep the class disinterested. Venue, I think, can make or break a film experience.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I think I'm just not a fan of this era of film. I can certainly see that it was highly influential and groundbreaking, but my primary motivation for watching a film is to be entertained, and I didn't find "Caligari" to be entertaining. But I can see a viewer in the 1920's finding it amazing.

    ReplyDelete