Metropolis (Movie Review)

If I were to pursue a PhD in film studies, I'd want my thesis to explore Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1927) from a Marxist perspective.

Because I'm pretty sure that's never been done before.

If you've seen Metropolis, you know I'm being sarcastic. The movie is so wrought with allegory, I'm not sure "allegory" is even really the correct term: this isn't exactly a film that hides its political objective. Or, to sum up the plot in 20 words or less: a rich man; a judicious son; a city of machine-appendage workers; and one woman to unite them.

I know intellecutals wouldn't roll their eyes at such a classic film, but I couldn't help it (i.e. I'm no intellectual). In addition to the Marxist storyline, there's also the Tower of Babel as well as some personification of Death and the Seven Deadly Sins... along with a few other theological allusions. In short: from my jaded 2006 perspective, the allegory was, at times, a little too much. But when I remind myself that the film was made nearly 80 years ago, only one word comes to mind:

Wow.

Not only are the special effects ahead of their time, but I was also impressed that Lang had the testicular fortitude to make such a blatant anti-Industrial, anti-government statement between the two World Wars. And that he did that so beautifully? Suffice it to say, it's no surprise it was the most expensive silent film of its time (costing around $200 million to make). It's also no wonder that Lang was asked by Joseph Goebbels to supervize the production of Nazi propoganda films. Even less surprising: he refused, and fled the country.

[Though, to be historically accurate, it seems Lang wasn't sure where he stood politically until Goebbels extended that offer. I was disappointed to realize that, in fact, there is some anti-Semitism in Metropolis. The Shylock-esque "Inventor" of the film is clearly meant to represent a Jewish man, with a "star" scattered around his abode likely symbolizing the Star of David. Seems Lang opposed dictatorship, but was otherwise confused by his own political sensibilities (until the aforementioned offer sent him running, that is.)]

I'm always impressed by a silent film that, without speech, nevertheless makes a powerful statement. For Metroplis in particular, I was especially in awe not only of the set design, but also of Brigitte Helm's many roles: she plays the Machine Man and the savior Maria as well as the Machine Man pretending to be Maria. Maria, in these instances, takes on very "robotic" movements, which Brigitte executes with seemingly little effort. The scenes in which she plays the "robot" are, to me, some of the film's most powerful moments.