Tag Archives: Metropolis

Fritz Lang’s Metropolis (1927)

A few months ago I went to a screening of the 1920 silent horror film The Cabinet of Dr Caligari at local venue the Old Woollen in Farsley. The film is a quintessential piece of German Expressionist cinema from over a century ago and a fascinating insight into celluloid creativity during the era of the Weimar Republic. As fun as it is, with its story of a mad hypnotist inducing a brainwashed somnambulist to commit murders, I wanted to look at an even more quintessential movie from the era, one that most people have come across at some point, the great 1927 science-fiction masterpiece, Metropolis, directed by Fritz Lang (1890-1976).

Lang has been cited as one of the most influential of filmmakers of all time, and he is credited with pioneering both the sci-fi genre (Metropolis, Woman in the Moon) and film noir (M). He didn’t shy away from producing epically long films, either, like the 4.5 hour Dr Mabuse the Gambler or the two-part Die Nibelungen based on the epic poem Nibelungenlied, but the one film that captures the zeitgeist of the auteur’s work is undoubtedly Metropolis.

It was written in collaboration with Lang’s wife Thea von Harbou and based on her 1925 novel of the same name. Metropolis is set in a futuristic urban dystopia prefiguring Blade Runner and bringing to mind themes from Orwell and indeed Mary Shelley with its own Frankenstein’s monster in the form of the scientist Rotwang’s iconic robot the Maschinenmensch.

Meanwhile, the film’s aesthetics, with Gothic touches, draw heavily from the Bauhaus, Cubist and Futurist design movements of the time. We see a world of colossal skyscrapers from which a wealthy elite lords it over the down-trodden masses of the underground who toil in abject conditions to keep the machines of the society running.

One day a member of this elite, one Freder Fredersen (Gustav Fröhlich), has an epiphany when presented with what life is like for the poor, by the saintly Maria (Brigitte Helm, who also plays the Maschinenmensch), and the two conspire to change the society and bring about social justice. As such, it can be construed as a rather simplistic morality tale, but there’s no simplicity in the stylisation and brilliant technical effects, which serve to create a remarkable world, both visually beautiful and powerful. Enjoy the theatrical trailer, below, with an excellent soundtrack by Gottfried Huppertz.

Fritz Lang

Otto Dix’s Metropolis Tryptych (1928)

The period, in Germany, between the end of World War I in 1918 and Hitler’s rise to power in 1933 is a fascinating one: there was a rapid emergence of innovation in the arts and sciences, embodied in the term “Weimar culture” (after the Weimar Republic, which was the unofficial designation for the German state at that time).

Luminaries in the sciences during the period included Albert Einstein, Werner Heisenberg and Max Born; Walter Gropius was busy inventing modern architecture and design with the Bauhaus movement; Ludwig Prandtl was pioneering aeronautical engineering. In the arts, German Expressionism was reaching its peak: Fritz Lang’s Metropolis expressed the public’s fascination with futurism and technology; concert halls were beginning to hear the atonal, modern experimental music of Kurt Weill and Arnold Schoenberg, whilst Bertolt Brecht was shaking up the theatre.

However, 1920s Berlin also had a dark underbelly and a reputation for decadence. There was a significant rise in prostitution, drug use, and crime. The cabaret scene, as documented by Britain’s Christopher Isherwood in his novel Goodbye to Berlin (which was eventually adapted into the musical movie, Cabaret), was emblematic of Berlin’s decadence. Many of the painters, sculptors, composers, architects, playwrights, and filmmakers associated with the time would be the same ones whose art would later be denounced as “degenerate art” (Entartete Kunst) by Adolf Hitler.

A new cultural movement started around this time, however – named New Objectivity (Neue Sachlichkeit). Its members turned away from the romantic ideals of German Expressionism and adopted instead an unsentimental perspective on the harsh realities of German society. A leading member of this movement was Otto Dix, and it is his paintings – satirical and at times savage – that I’m showcasing here. He wished to portray the decay of the post-war life; thus, frequent themes include the prostitutes and downtrodden of Berlin, their defects exaggerated to the point of caricature. He also painted many of the prominent characters from his milieu, in a style influenced by the dadaism and cubism art movements.

Here is a small selection of his art from the Weimar years, beginning with his 1928 tryptych, Metropolis (Großstadt), which incorporated crippled war veterans, prostitutes, musicians, dancers, and night club revellers into its three-panel indictment of contemporary Berlin life. Incidentally, when the Nazis came to power, Dix had to promise to paint only inoffensive landscapes: that must have been excruciating for him!

Metropolis
Otto Dix