Metropolis

by Fritz Lang, 1926.

Starring: Alfred Abel, Gustav Froelich, Heinrich George, Brigitte Helm, and Rudolf Klein-Rogge.

Rating: 8/10, 10/10.

Even if you have never seen Metropolis, you are probably already familiar with a majority of its images. The towering, bleak skyscrapers of its city are echoed in countless noirish science-fiction films like Dark City. The shiny metal, human-shaped robot is a standard form (some editions of Isaac Asimov’s books show almost exact copies on the covers, and even C-3PO is sort of a cuter version). Its mad scientist and his lab have been cloned endlessly.

That said, you still need to see this film. After all, it is not only that these images are familiar; Metropolis is the original source of most of them. As Roger Ebert accurately observes, it is a film "without which the others cannot be fully appreciated."

Joh Fredersen (Abel) is the ruthless, businessman-like ruler of the two cities we encounter: the surface one, with its rich, leisurely inhabitants, and the subterranean worker’s city, filled with lines of indistinguishable men going to and coming from work in ten hour shifts. His son, Freder (Froehlich), is enjoying himself in the Pleasure Gardens when Maria (Helm), a beautiful woman from the worker’s city, comes to the surface to show him the misery of the workers (and specifically their children), which was previously entirely unknown to him. Intrigued, he finds his way underground, where he is shocked to discover the horrible conditions there, the dehumanising nature of the work that supports his lifestyle. As he watches, there is an accident and many workers are killed. He is sympathetic, but, as we see in their conflicts, his father is entirely the opposite. We eventually learn that Maria is attempting, fairly successfully, to build up a revolution among the workers, and Freder joins this effort. However, when Fredersen learns of Maria, he employs his pet mad scientist, Rotwang (Klein-Rogge) to construct a robot in her image, with which they can control the workers directly. Maria is kidnapped and replaced with the robot, who attempts to lead the workers to destroy themselves.

I see none of the plotholes, inconsistencies, and confusing plot-points that Ebert goes out of his way to defend. Perhaps it is because, while I am watching the film, I am so overwhelmed by the imagery, the incredible effects, the overpowering mood of the piece (though I like to think it is because these imperfections simply aren’t there). There are so many images that simply refuse to leave my mind, especially the one pictured above, as the worker’s city is flooded and the children poor out of their houses and flock to Maria on high ground.

This film leaves me simply in awe. I can’t help but think that the entire population of Germany must have been involved in the filming of the giant crowd scenes. The special effects, though perhaps not technically as good as recent advances would allow, are used to much greater effect than any I have seen in other films. It is simply incredible.

read roger ebert's essay on metropolis