My favorite scene of the whole film is
honestly the establishing shot of our tinny German town setting called
Holstenwall … which is a shadowy village, full of twisted buildings, and
spiraling streets. While it’s obviously a map painting, there’s something
inherently chilling about its simplicity, as if it’s pulling me into a world
that’s a living nightmare. All the houses look like dead leaves against a
fearsome rockface, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this inspired the Disney
artists with the opening village shot of “Night on Bald Mountain” from “Fantasia”.
One day, a traveling circus rolls into town, led by a mysterious hypnotist
named Dr. Caligari. It’s a one man show, in which he claims he carries
something incredible within his cabinet, something that will change the lives
of all who view it. Turns out that lying dormant in his cabinet is a creature
named Cesar, who’s a “Sleep-Walker” under the Doctors control, and has the
power to foretell anyone’s future. Observing the show is a village man named
Francis, along with his best friend … who asks what lies ahead in his future.
The Sleep-Walker Cesar simply responds by saying … “he won’t live to see
tomorrow morning”. Sure enough, Francis discovers that his friend is in-fact
dead … or perhaps he was murdered. Soon, more mysterious deaths start accruing,
and Francis is determined to find out if the visiting Caligari, and his monster
are somehow involved.
Without question, the highlight of this
film is its overall visual look, and design. It became a common look in further
silent horror movies released in Germany, and pioneered what we’ve come to know
as “German Expressionism”.
This is when the artist's inner feelings or ideas are emphasized over a replication of our reality, and reality in turn is characterized by simplified shapes, bright colors, and gestural marks. I don’t mean to spoil the ending so soon, but the unfolding events are told as a story from the point of a view of an apparent mad man. Thus, the twisted architecture, and slanted objects all have subtext, as it can be interpreted as a dream world that lies within the mind of a psychopath. All the windows have a pointed frame, as if drawing the audience’s attention to something important in a scene, which is really cool. Even the characters and their movements feel like their one with the environment, and setting. In general, I’ve actually watched a number of silent films, and personally … I think horror lends itself best to silent cinema better than any other genera. Horror can be conveyed so effectively through visuals, atmosphere, and mood, to the point where silent horror seems to have aged better then contemporary scary films. My two personal favorite silent horror movies are the 1926 film called “Faust”, and the 1922 film called “Haxan”, both of which generally got under my skin, and frightened me more than any current decade horror movie ever did. While “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” admittedly didn’t scare me the same way “Haxan” did, it still maintains a nightmarish atmosphere and mood, which is still very impressive for such an old film.
This is when the artist's inner feelings or ideas are emphasized over a replication of our reality, and reality in turn is characterized by simplified shapes, bright colors, and gestural marks. I don’t mean to spoil the ending so soon, but the unfolding events are told as a story from the point of a view of an apparent mad man. Thus, the twisted architecture, and slanted objects all have subtext, as it can be interpreted as a dream world that lies within the mind of a psychopath. All the windows have a pointed frame, as if drawing the audience’s attention to something important in a scene, which is really cool. Even the characters and their movements feel like their one with the environment, and setting. In general, I’ve actually watched a number of silent films, and personally … I think horror lends itself best to silent cinema better than any other genera. Horror can be conveyed so effectively through visuals, atmosphere, and mood, to the point where silent horror seems to have aged better then contemporary scary films. My two personal favorite silent horror movies are the 1926 film called “Faust”, and the 1922 film called “Haxan”, both of which generally got under my skin, and frightened me more than any current decade horror movie ever did. While “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” admittedly didn’t scare me the same way “Haxan” did, it still maintains a nightmarish atmosphere and mood, which is still very impressive for such an old film.
Also impressive for its time was its
subtle use of political commentary … or maybe it was obvious for its time, but
it’s not something we think of when watching years later. In the wake of World
War 1, the villain Dr. Caligari represented an all controlling authoritarian
figure or dictator, while his Sleep Walker Cesare represents the brain washed
subjects who mindlessly follow a tyrant’s will. On that note, this was one of
the first movies to set the template of a villain who’s a main physical threat,
while an intelligent threat controls the game behind the scenes … kind of like
Darth Vader and the Emperor from “Star Wars”. Werner Krauss plays Dr.
Caligari with great conviction, and the Sleepwalker Cesare was played by Conrad
Veidt, who was quiet the influence on some our most ionic villains. In 1928, he
stared as the main lead in “The Man Who Laughs”, which became the
inspiration behind the creation of Batman's arch rival … The Joker. In fact, Joaquin
Phoenix emulated a lot of Conrad Veidt’s performance, like when he puts his
fingers in his mouth and makes a smile. In the 1940 picture “The Thief of
Baghdad”, Conrad played a villain called Jaffar, who would be the prime
influence on the Disney villain Jafar. At last, he would ladder play the main
villain in “Casablanca”, one of the most acclaimed movies of all time.
It also goes without saying that … as one
of the very first horror movies ever made, it’s responsible for kick-starting
some of the genera’s most imitated clichés. When the Sleep Walker claims his
first victim, he stabs him to death with a knife, which was shocking for it’s
time … even though it’s only shown as a shadowy silhouette. Over the years,
even more stabbing scenes would shock audiences, with 1960’s “Psycho”
being the big one that has yet to be surpassed. Arguably the most famous scene
of this movie is when the Sleep Walker is sent to slay the lead girl, which is
a slow-building scene, and would be emulated again in “Frankenstein”. In
a twist, the monster refuses to kill her, finds a curious romantic interest in
her, and carries her off into the night. Even if you’ve never seen “The
Cabinet of Dr. Caligari”, you may be familiar with this iconic image of the
monster carrying off the girl, which has visually been replicated in dozens of
monster movies … most famously in “King Kong”. Just like with all the
classic monsters, it’s affection for the girl becomes his down fall, as he’s
chased down by an angry mob, and after failing to escape … the beast is killed.
Typically, this is when the movie would end, but there’s still a lot of movie
left, as our hero Francis goes on an investigation to find out just who this
Dr. Caligari really is. This is when the movie loses me, as it just feels
repetitive, and without the monster, there’s less tension or excitement.
We then come to the big twist ending …
which could well be the first big movie twist in horror cinema. Turns out that
our hero Francis … this whole time … was an inmate at an asylum, leaving the
audience wondering if anything really happened, or if it was just a story that
came from the mind of a mad-man. All the people at the asylum seem to represent
the characters from his story, and the warden bears a striking resemblance to
Caligari. Just as things start to close to black, the movie holds on the
warden’s face … almost suggesting that he’s getting away with something
sinister. If you watch the audio dubbed version, this final shot is paired with
a wicked laugh … so, there’s definitely a deception of some sort going on. It’s
a decent enough ending, and salvages what was a mostly boring third-act up till
that point. While on the subject, there is a dubbed version of the film, which
also includes added sounds and sped-up footage. While unmistakably the more engaging
version, it dose spoil the calm-atmosphere and mood of its original silent presentation.
It’s really up to personal taste on which version is superior, and as for me …
I find the voice acting in the audio version to be incredibly one-note, and
spoils the theatrical presentations through the actor’s physical
performances.
In the end, “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” is a movie that I respect as a piece of film history, but it really isn’t one of my
favorites either. That’s no stab at silent cinema either, as I’ve seen a number
of films from the genera, and found some that genuinely hold-up as good movies
on their own. While “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” is good, and looks
amazing … I just can’t say it drew me into its world the same way others have.
Heck, I’ve seen other silent movies that legit gave me chills from head to toe,
and I just kept waiting for this movie to thrill me with the same kind of
hypnotic atmosphere. Regardless, it’s still a movie worth looking back on for
what it started, and even if I don’t call it one of my personal favorites … I
can at least see why others would deem it as such, and find both appeal and appreciation in it. Happy
100 years!
Thanks for reading my review of the
1920 horror original “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” … and treat yourself to one good scare this October.
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