Destiny

Fritz Lang's DESTINY is an inventive, entertaining film that captured my imagination.

Somewhere in preindustrial Germany, a young couple sets out upon their life's journey. But Death takes the man away, and the woman will try anything to get him back. She confronts Death and begs for her husband, who responds, "I'm tired of being hated for doing God's will. I'll make you a deal: you get three chances to defeat me. If you succeed, I'll give you your husband back."

And thus the film takes us to palace of the Caliph, where a young Frenchman conspires with the sister of the Caliph to find true love's way. From there, it's on to Venice, where jealousy plays at rapiers with love. Finally, DESTINY takes us to mythic China, where the Emperor takes whom he wants, no matter whether she loves another.

DESTINY's framing device gives each of these tales an overarching urgency, but they'd work as well as stand alone short films. Lang cuts loose here, exploring film's ability to conjure palaces of the imagination, armies of magical miniatures, and the very gates of mortality as he tells the simple story of a woman trying to save the life of her one true love. This is a sumptuous film, full of lore, popular religion, and tales that could find a home in the _Arabian Nights_.

For many, Charlie Chaplin *is* silent film. That's fine, really - he served as my gateway to the era. For the person looking to explore silents outside the realm of comedy, DESTINY is a great place to start. It'll grab you early, it won't let go, and it'll make you glad you sat down with it.

Die Nibelungen

Fritz Lang’s THE NIBELUNGEN, clocking in at over five hours long, is an ambitious work that had a huge impact in its day. Unfortunately, it hasn’t aged well. I slogged through the saga with one eye on the screen and one on the clock, never believing in anything or anyone I saw onscreen.

The film begins with Siegfried, a blacksmith’s apprentice who forges a blade so keen that his master declares he has nothing more to teach the young hero. Taking the sword and setting out to find his fortune, he slays a dragon, finds an invisibility cloak, and captures the treasure hoard of the dwarves. This is the best part of the picture, with a magnificently realized dragon puppet that’s over eighty feet long, great craft on Siegfried’s part, and a transfiguration effect that must have take days days to create.

But soon enough, Siegfried is in the hall of the Burgundian Kings, the titular Nibelungen. And here’s where the picture gets nasty. From here on out, the film is a feast of misogyny, racism, and general repudiation of Judaeo-Christian values. There’s deceit and counter deceit, blood revenge, cruel realpolitik, and an ultimate affirmation of the heroic woman only in terms of her cold-hearted cruelty. There’s a significant portion among the Huns that makes this proud people out as barely a step above lowland gorillas. But most importantly, and unforgivably, there’s nothing here to hang on to: the characters aren’t inherently fascinating, the pageantry isn’t particularly dazzling, and the whole thing feels rather flat.

At least, that’s how it seems to me, the modern viewer. The film made such a splash during its initial release that Goebbels asked Lang to make propaganda films for the Nazi political effort (showing great judgment, the director promptly fled to America). But while I can put myself into the mind of a person who enjoyed INTOLERANCE and THE IDLE CLASS, I can’t see the appeal of this one. It’s coming from a place too alien to me.

M

M scared the hell out of me in two different ways.

The first is in its portrayal of Franz Becker and his crimes. Becker, brilliantly played by Peter Lorre, is cinema's first serial killer. Where some films might drench such a character in Kensington Gore, M does something much, much worse: it forces us to use our imaginations, replacing screams and shrieking music with forlorn shots of an empty placesetting, an empty staircase, and a gradually panicking mother calling, "Elsie! Elsie!" Additionally, M makes effective (and probably groundbreaking) use of Grieg's "Peer Gint Suite", which Becker compulsively whistles when he's on the hunt. I'll never hear that tune the same way again.

The second is SPOILERIFIC, so skip this paragraph if you want to remain SPOILER free. When Becker's dragged before the underworld's kangaroo court, the top criminal and commander of the proceedings makes a compelling speech in which he argues that, rather than be turned over to the police and (almost certainly) confined to an asylum, Becker should be killed on the spot. As he really gets into his speech, his voice rises and takes on the strident rythms of the polished public speaker. We realize that this character (who is wearing a leather overcoat) is arguing for the execution of the insane, and the crowd is with him. We remember that the movie was made in 1931, when the Nazi party was really gathering steam, and we wonder what impact this film had on their policies.

Ok, THE SPOILERS ARE OVER. It's safe now. Technically, the movie is just plain brilliant. It doesn't feel like a film that's being made by people who are still figuring out sound technology. Rather, it feels like a masterpiece. There's just the right mix of music, dialogue, and silence; there's a tracking shot that hadn't been equalled until 'Goodfellas'; there's mirror and window-reflection photography that's just plain stunning; and there's a narrative that will have you on the edge of your seat from beginning to end.

What a great movie.