Descomunal film the one that is commented on this opportunity, as huge was the filmmaker that gave form to this audiovisual jewel, a work probably not always mentioned among the most conspicuous works of this giant demiurge of the seventh art, but it is decidedly, I consider, a film that must be placed between the highest of his production, extraordinary picture. The film excels in virtually all aspects of its realization, from the conception of it, from the writing of the script, in which the conspicuous Thea von Harbou participates; although third in the order of credits of writers, the remembered wife of Fritz Lang certainly had an active role in many of the most illustrious Expressionist films of that time, while in the acting aspect, the great Werner Krauss will appear. A great story is constructed with this base that from the visual point of view has a lot of expressionist, but in its content it becomes almost a parable, a moral story in which a young peasant man longs for a life of luxury and money, when his father dies he leaves his farm, gets a job with a wealthy subject, who also passes away, inheriting the young man an oil well of millions of marks worth; after many odds are overcame, the humble young man finally returns home, with his family, his roots, and his initial love.
Everything starts in the dark home of the Rog family, whose patriarch (Krauss) is dying. His eldest son Peter (Eugen Klöpfer), takes care of him; the old man calls his youngest son, Johannes (Vladimir Gajdarov). For his part, Count Rudenburg (Eduard von Winterstein) seeks a supposedly formidable treasure, buried under his property, without luck. The old man dies, Johannes can not take it any longer, he wants a different life from the peasant, he leaves the family farm, and Maria (Grete Diercks), who loves him. Gerda (Lya De Putti), daughter of the Count, is courted by Ludwig von Lellewel (Alfred Abel), whom she rejects, but he gets Johannes a job as secretary of Rudenburg, much to her delight, for she loves him. The Count has little time to live, he craves the treasure, an oil well, Johannes finds out by chance that Helga (Stella Arbenina), his second wife, will inherit it, awakens his ambition, and when the Count dies, he marries Helga. The young peasant soon sells the oil well for 25 million marks, ignoring that Helga sells it to his brother Peter for only 12,000; the sale to Peter is canceled, but she, knowing that Johannes only married for money from the well, commits suicide. The now widower suffers, then the well is destroyed in a fire, and he, collapsed, undoes all business with entrepreneurs, returns home, where his family waits with love, and stays with Mary.
The great Friedrich Wilhelm Plumpe, known worldwide and imperishably as simply Murnau, had for the year in which this film was made, 1922, just three years of career, but already ten feature films produced, and a reputation, a respect, consideration earned, quickly became a benchmark of German, European, and certainly global cinema. This consideration is further increased when we notice the fact that the present film is made the same year in which
Nosferatu materializes, all the power of probably the most recognized and venerated picture of his was still fresh, and it is perfectly remarkable that when we see all the visual power displayed in the film, especially, of course, in that first act where the darkness and the shady rule everything with a stifling iron fist. In that sense, it is simply extraordinary the opening of the film, in which not a single moment is wasted, because the first image, the first frame, is a powerful declaration of artistic intentions of the filmmaker, dark photography in small spaces, where already there are halos of sinister nature, phantasmagoric dyes, which are then corroborated by the story of death and demonic spirits that swarm at night, which terrify the Rog; seldomly seen so extraordinary and valid audio-visual proem, especially, again, from the initial frame. And yes, always in that first sequence, we see the characters talking with terror, of souls, of evil spirits, of the devil himself, even in another room, it is mentioned that the devil in person seems to have coaxed the Count, until he obsessed him insanely to find the treasure; with that hermetic and tense beginning, we feel more in a horror film, more it seems a characteristic work, the beginning of a story with all the elements of the expressionist horror cinema, a story that will then acquire other features, caresses of moralist fable that has in the visual aspect very enriching and valuable added. Soon that generated environment will find its extension, because even the aspect of the patriarch of the family, Werner Krauss, in his ephemeral appearance, invites the morbidity, the sordid dementia of the film, the valetudinarian individual will die, the nightmare is about to begin. That first act is something superb, could constitute a remarkable audiovisual story itself, we could consider it a small masterpiece separately, from its secluded site as a prelude to the film.
As it was said, then the severe tension will gradually fade away, just as the expressionist visual intensity of the film's language, the setting, the photography used in the frames, evolve as the film progresses, lessens the burden of darkness. The story is very well structured, the six segments are quite different, in their content, in their treatment, likewise this regulates the visual times of the film, divided with even chronological precision, being born a positive sol-fa in the times of the film. Yes, the visual tonic is attenuated, the visual treatment of the film, there is a singular dichotomy in the form and substance of the film, the background, the story, continues to flow, it develops, it is the form that is having the most sensitive change, finally it goes diminishing all expressionist power to now give space to the tonic itself of the film, that benevolent story in which the origins, the roots, and of course, the family, are the most sacred and important. As it has been commented, one of the expressionist masters prints his powerful seal, and although it goes without saying, this being more evident in the first act, in which the architectural conceptions of some spaces, the everlasting stairs -symbol of the German current- will flow deliriously on repeated occasions, we are facing a very obvious film as a work of its author. Of course, and the environment where this is most powerful is the home in the farm of the Rog, a room that generates an environment of oppression, a dry atmosphere is built, cold, small spaces, with such low ceilings, which feeds and reinforces that sensation of terror for the spectator, as well as suffocating imprisonment for Johannes, who ends up bored, he does not want the peasant's life, he does not want to live a boring life, like the cattle they care for, he tells his brother. The film has many positive aspects in its visual section, overflowing with a powerful pictorial charge, in which we can notice, in its coldness, a certain heritage of Nordic pictorial art, and in particular to the writer, certain scenes, on more than one occasion, referred to the images of the great Dane Vilhelm Hammershøi. The Nordic painter captured the absence, loneliness, often in interiors, and whoever knows his work will probably also know how to notice those moments in the film, the ephemeral but present force of those images in interiors, in his work, and for brief moments in the film also. The interiors are combined with human beings at times, remarkable composition of certain frames, which I consider more than likely have been inspired by the mentioned pictorial works.
In his very coherent audio-visual language, Murnau unfolds the ever-present element of the stairs, one of the visual watchwords of expressionism, several stairs will repeatedly flow, the large, elegant and well-lit of the Count mansion; the dark and small of the humble house of the Rog, the stairs that vary in the framings, in the lighting, in their visual treatment, but that will not stop parading insistently in the film, always reinforcing that expressionist conciseness. The visual power of the film is therefore brutal, and one of the most remarkable sequences is when the old Count Rudenburg goes down to the well of his property to look for the oil fields, and a window in the form of a cross is the escape for the light of his lamp, and those beams of light, rocking, will draw unreal and mobile shadows, that scatter vaguely; great exercise, great game of lights and shadows, which again links the film with some expressionist jewels, and why not, with the distances of the case, but with a variety of a possibly common resource, I doubt to be the only one who has thought for a moment in that heartbreaking sequence of the outcome of Norman Bates and his mother in the Hitchcock classic. Complementing that visual richness we have the images in exteriors, those images of bleak winter, with those trees devoid of leaves, dry trees covered with snow, the icy snow flows while the characters are torn between cold and Machiavellian lies, outside it is frozen, like an extension of human suffering, the rows of trees, buildings, the white snow and the frozen roads, like ice lagoons, are significantly different locations to the rest in the film. That snow is so strong counterpoint to the darkness that reigns in the rest of the footage, it is noticeable that chromatically differentiated environments are generated. Only the fire will change those tonic in exteriors, from a generalized blue to red hot, in a sequence that has given some people to think that such a sequence could be more powerful, probably budget issues prevented that segment of the film to be shot more forcefully, or simply footage reasons. The music, which was probably added after the film production, and which frankly I do not know if it was added with master Murnau's consent or not -in that specific topic, and of course speaking of silent film, silent cinema, there is a variety of cases, with a respective variety of approvals or not by the author-, amalgamates well with history, and helps to generate that tension, that terror that plagues a good part of the film. Other sounds will be inserted, artificial as the bells that ring while Johannes learns the laughable sale of his gold mine, or diegetics, like the crows while Johannes is defining his future, the sound element also contributes. Is born in the film a severe contrast that Murnau prints, and we appreciate it in more than one of his works, the luxury and pomp of oil executives and their enclosures, abundant light, copious spaces, tall columns, large walls full of decorations, the pomp proper of wealthy executives, a very sensitive contrast, the counterpoint, the visual antipode of the gloomy austerity deployed in the environment of the Rog farm. Finally the moralistic ending runs, money and pomp are not synonymous with happiness, a happiness pursued by Johannes, leaving his home, only to find that happiness was always in his own home, with his feelings, with his roots, with family, and with his true love. In that end the biblical dyes that the filmmaker adopts are more remarkable, they will invade the film, that happy ending is produced, Johannes recovers the love, he recovers everything, he has final absolution, the love of the family never changed, now he has his expiation. Some viewers feel that ending as a bit forced, hasty or hurried, the youngest son returns as a child who learned his lesson, the prodigal son who apologizes to everyone, one by one, and finds forgiveness, with the moving moment in which he finds his room intact, as if he had never left, and he breathes a sigh of relief, he's home, it's all gone, the nightmare is over. Johannes, by the way, is undaunted throughout the film, the actor Vladimir Gajdarov stands out in his hardness, is the central character, the axis around which everything will happen, and his gesture almost never varies, intense representation of Russian. In the history we find social climbing, love, death, lies, ambition, and finally, after that tortuous road, the return to home, finally imposes the moral character of the film, there is a happy ending, there is light at the end of the tunnel. As mentioned before, the great Thea von Harbou is a strong incentive as a scriptwriter, as well as the mythical Werner Krauss, the unforgettable Doctor Caligari, the very Caligari appears, it matters little that fleetingly, emblematic figures of expressionism put their share in this great film, a genius works with other geniuses, the result had to be remarkable, Murnau was already a consecrated master, and his legend continued to grow. Thumping feature, perhaps not as mediatic as
Nosferatu,
The Last Laugh (1924),
Faust (1926) or
Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927), the most lustrous works of the German master, but the well-prepared eye will know how to value this jewel of the thaumaturgical Friedrich Wilhelm Plumpe, or how the world know and will remember for always, Murnau.
Everything starts in the dark home of the Rog family, whose patriarch (Krauss) is dying. His eldest son Peter (Eugen Klöpfer), takes care of him; the old man calls his youngest son, Johannes (Vladimir Gajdarov). For his part, Count Rudenburg (Eduard von Winterstein) seeks a supposedly formidable treasure, buried under his property, without luck. The old man dies, Johannes can not take it any longer, he wants a different life from the peasant, he leaves the family farm, and Maria (Grete Diercks), who loves him. Gerda (Lya De Putti), daughter of the Count, is courted by Ludwig von Lellewel (Alfred Abel), whom she rejects, but he gets Johannes a job as secretary of Rudenburg, much to her delight, for she loves him. The Count has little time to live, he craves the treasure, an oil well, Johannes finds out by chance that Helga (Stella Arbenina), his second wife, will inherit it, awakens his ambition, and when the Count dies, he marries Helga. The young peasant soon sells the oil well for 25 million marks, ignoring that Helga sells it to his brother Peter for only 12,000; the sale to Peter is canceled, but she, knowing that Johannes only married for money from the well, commits suicide. The now widower suffers, then the well is destroyed in a fire, and he, collapsed, undoes all business with entrepreneurs, returns home, where his family waits with love, and stays with Mary.
The great Friedrich Wilhelm Plumpe, known worldwide and imperishably as simply Murnau, had for the year in which this film was made, 1922, just three years of career, but already ten feature films produced, and a reputation, a respect, consideration earned, quickly became a benchmark of German, European, and certainly global cinema. This consideration is further increased when we notice the fact that the present film is made the same year in which Nosferatu materializes, all the power of probably the most recognized and venerated picture of his was still fresh, and it is perfectly remarkable that when we see all the visual power displayed in the film, especially, of course, in that first act where the darkness and the shady rule everything with a stifling iron fist. In that sense, it is simply extraordinary the opening of the film, in which not a single moment is wasted, because the first image, the first frame, is a powerful declaration of artistic intentions of the filmmaker, dark photography in small spaces, where already there are halos of sinister nature, phantasmagoric dyes, which are then corroborated by the story of death and demonic spirits that swarm at night, which terrify the Rog; seldomly seen so extraordinary and valid audio-visual proem, especially, again, from the initial frame. And yes, always in that first sequence, we see the characters talking with terror, of souls, of evil spirits, of the devil himself, even in another room, it is mentioned that the devil in person seems to have coaxed the Count, until he obsessed him insanely to find the treasure; with that hermetic and tense beginning, we feel more in a horror film, more it seems a characteristic work, the beginning of a story with all the elements of the expressionist horror cinema, a story that will then acquire other features, caresses of moralist fable that has in the visual aspect very enriching and valuable added. Soon that generated environment will find its extension, because even the aspect of the patriarch of the family, Werner Krauss, in his ephemeral appearance, invites the morbidity, the sordid dementia of the film, the valetudinarian individual will die, the nightmare is about to begin. That first act is something superb, could constitute a remarkable audiovisual story itself, we could consider it a small masterpiece separately, from its secluded site as a prelude to the film.
In his very coherent audio-visual language, Murnau unfolds the ever-present element of the stairs, one of the visual watchwords of expressionism, several stairs will repeatedly flow, the large, elegant and well-lit of the Count mansion; the dark and small of the humble house of the Rog, the stairs that vary in the framings, in the lighting, in their visual treatment, but that will not stop parading insistently in the film, always reinforcing that expressionist conciseness. The visual power of the film is therefore brutal, and one of the most remarkable sequences is when the old Count Rudenburg goes down to the well of his property to look for the oil fields, and a window in the form of a cross is the escape for the light of his lamp, and those beams of light, rocking, will draw unreal and mobile shadows, that scatter vaguely; great exercise, great game of lights and shadows, which again links the film with some expressionist jewels, and why not, with the distances of the case, but with a variety of a possibly common resource, I doubt to be the only one who has thought for a moment in that heartbreaking sequence of the outcome of Norman Bates and his mother in the Hitchcock classic. Complementing that visual richness we have the images in exteriors, those images of bleak winter, with those trees devoid of leaves, dry trees covered with snow, the icy snow flows while the characters are torn between cold and Machiavellian lies, outside it is frozen, like an extension of human suffering, the rows of trees, buildings, the white snow and the frozen roads, like ice lagoons, are significantly different locations to the rest in the film. That snow is so strong counterpoint to the darkness that reigns in the rest of the footage, it is noticeable that chromatically differentiated environments are generated. Only the fire will change those tonic in exteriors, from a generalized blue to red hot, in a sequence that has given some people to think that such a sequence could be more powerful, probably budget issues prevented that segment of the film to be shot more forcefully, or simply footage reasons. The music, which was probably added after the film production, and which frankly I do not know if it was added with master Murnau's consent or not -in that specific topic, and of course speaking of silent film, silent cinema, there is a variety of cases, with a respective variety of approvals or not by the author-, amalgamates well with history, and helps to generate that tension, that terror that plagues a good part of the film. Other sounds will be inserted, artificial as the bells that ring while Johannes learns the laughable sale of his gold mine, or diegetics, like the crows while Johannes is defining his future, the sound element also contributes. Is born in the film a severe contrast that Murnau prints, and we appreciate it in more than one of his works, the luxury and pomp of oil executives and their enclosures, abundant light, copious spaces, tall columns, large walls full of decorations, the pomp proper of wealthy executives, a very sensitive contrast, the counterpoint, the visual antipode of the gloomy austerity deployed in the environment of the Rog farm. Finally the moralistic ending runs, money and pomp are not synonymous with happiness, a happiness pursued by Johannes, leaving his home, only to find that happiness was always in his own home, with his feelings, with his roots, with family, and with his true love. In that end the biblical dyes that the filmmaker adopts are more remarkable, they will invade the film, that happy ending is produced, Johannes recovers the love, he recovers everything, he has final absolution, the love of the family never changed, now he has his expiation. Some viewers feel that ending as a bit forced, hasty or hurried, the youngest son returns as a child who learned his lesson, the prodigal son who apologizes to everyone, one by one, and finds forgiveness, with the moving moment in which he finds his room intact, as if he had never left, and he breathes a sigh of relief, he's home, it's all gone, the nightmare is over. Johannes, by the way, is undaunted throughout the film, the actor Vladimir Gajdarov stands out in his hardness, is the central character, the axis around which everything will happen, and his gesture almost never varies, intense representation of Russian. In the history we find social climbing, love, death, lies, ambition, and finally, after that tortuous road, the return to home, finally imposes the moral character of the film, there is a happy ending, there is light at the end of the tunnel. As mentioned before, the great Thea von Harbou is a strong incentive as a scriptwriter, as well as the mythical Werner Krauss, the unforgettable Doctor Caligari, the very Caligari appears, it matters little that fleetingly, emblematic figures of expressionism put their share in this great film, a genius works with other geniuses, the result had to be remarkable, Murnau was already a consecrated master, and his legend continued to grow. Thumping feature, perhaps not as mediatic as Nosferatu, The Last Laugh (1924), Faust (1926) or Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927), the most lustrous works of the German master, but the well-prepared eye will know how to value this jewel of the thaumaturgical Friedrich Wilhelm Plumpe, or how the world know and will remember for always, Murnau.
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