Germany | 1927 | Directed by Fritz Lang
Logline: In a future, starkly divided city, the son of the city’s chief civil engineer falls in love with a woman who foresees the arrival of a champion for the people.
Not just the crowning achievement for German silent cinema, but simply an extraordinary, astonishing movie (which cost in modern terms around $200 million and used 37,000 extras!) Dozens of filmmakers have been influenced by Metropolis, as it was the first movie to focus on the troubled infrastructure of a futuristic society, and the socio-political issues inherent.
Essentially it is a tale about love and power, and the abuse of both of them. The wealthy city-planners and the poor construction workers, the division between them, and the struggle for identified unity in the year 2026: “The mediator between the head and the hand is the heart”. A working class prophet predicts the coming of a saviour who will unite the two classes.
With a screenplay by Thea von Harbou, who wrote the original novel, Fritz Lang employed an exceptional production design and art direction team, and broke new ground with the amazing special effects (many of which look like elaborate post-production optical effects, but were actually achieved in-camera), and the clever use of miniature models.
Indeed it is the look of Metropolis which is so memorable, in particular the cityscapes and the famous machine-woman (which George Lucas shamelessly purloined for C-3P0). There is a beautiful visual poetry to Fritz Lang’s mise-en-scene. Like all silent films the narrative has to rely on a vivid visual narrative, and Lang composes his story with a powerful command, such as the workers trudging forward toward the elevators to take them down to the underground factories, as the exhausted workers trudge out of the elevators in parallel.
While the imagery makes you gasp in wonder, it is the key performances that bristle with that expressionistic charisma you don’t find in modern cinema. Brigitte Helm, who plays the dual roles, delivers a maniacal performance as the evil android Maria and she is something to behold, infused with a dark sexual energy, her arms held like witch’s talons, her eyes glistening with conviction.
Metropolis is a landmark, progressive movie. It may have suffered over the years, having the negatives of many of its original scenes lost, being released in various truncated and altered versions. There was a colourised version set to the music of Georgio Morodor released in 1984, which I’ve never seen. Queen even borrowed its iconic imagery in their video clip to “Radio Ga Ga”.
The score on my beautifully restored special edition is the original music composed by Gottfried Huppertz that was played live at the movie’s premiere. It’s stunningly emotive and wonderfully modern for its time. However, listening to certain sections, especially during Maria’s (unintentionally hilarious) “Erotic Dance”, I couldn’t help but notice how similar John Williams’ famous score for Star Wars sounded. A coincidence? I doubt it.
If you’ve never seen a silent movie, the German Expressionism movement is the place to start, and Metropolis is essential viewing.