Film: Metropolis

Director: Fritz Lang
Genre: Sci-Fi
Source: Germany (1927)
Rating: Unrated (Probably G)
Location/Format: Blu-ray
Grade: A-

I can't say that I loved Metropolis as much as I hoped to, but I will say that I can see why it's had such an impact. Fritz Lang is a visual master, and the world he creates in this film is clearly a grandfather of later films--shots and moments and elements here would go on to be the impetus for films from Star Wars to Blade Runner to Modern Times to Vertigo and beyond. The art deco city of Metropolis, even when obviously matte painted, is iconic and monumental, and I can see why film lovers worldwide have looked to this film for inspiration. And Lang even uses the camera itself in creative ways, employing sudden zooms that shock and even, at one point, a first person perspective that is surprisingly effective. Here--perhaps even more than in M, which I enjoyed more overall--his creativity and innovation are on full display. He truly was a groundbreaking filmmaker. 

While the scale and much-ballyhooed elements that have gone on to be homaged again and again remain impressive, I was perhaps more surprised by the scenes and images that I am not as familiar with. Lang uses bodies as effectively as he uses scenery, and throughout the film surging crowds--some surging in anger, some in lust, some in desperation--blend into a pulsating whole, amoeba-like in its movement. When Maria and Freder attempt to save the children from the destruction of the underground city, for example, they move to the exits in through a sea of clutching and waving arms that almost seem disembodied from their owners, a grasping symbol of need that is as effective as any of Maria's preaching. Similarly, the rioting workers, broken free of the mechanical ranks in which they first appeared, become an unstoppable mob that surges over walls and barriers like a wave. It is as effective in its apparent madness and lack of order as earlier scenes are in their use of choreography. 

Lang also makes clever use of artwork brought to horrifying life, both in the dance of the whore of Babylon and in the animation of the statue of Death itself. As the figure begins to move and wave its scythe, I was genuinely creeped out by the imagery. I didn't really expect that.

Storywise, the film was a mixed bag. While the class warfare angle was interesting, it didn't really pan out as clearly as I hoped, as some of the character's motivations (particularly Joh Fredersen) seemed unclear. There was one line about why he wanted the workers to riot, but it seemed somewhat contradictory to earlier and later statements. And the film's driving sentiment--the need for a heart to mediate between head and hands--ultimately comes off as something of an ode to middle management rather than the revolutionary manifesto it seemed to want to be. The biblical allusions and allegories felt muddled--though that could be changed on a second viewing--and the romance between Freder and Maria seemed far too generic given the innovative nature of the rest of the film.

Still, it's hard to argue against the ways this film has gone on to inspire and affect other filmmakers, and there was so much going on here--so many ideas packed into the film's two and a half hours--that my critiques seem a little petty. My enjoyment of the film aside, Metropolis clearly is a film that matters and that can help fill in a big piece of the puzzle of film history for those interested in that kind of thing. And if you're not--well, there's still a lot of great stuff to look at, and that's not bad. After all, film is a visual medium.

Alternate Film Title: "Robo-Maria's Awesomely Weird Dance Moves"