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SEE AND WATCH BEST of NATALIE PORTMAN
SYNOPSIS: A man named Francis relates a story about his best friend Alan and his fiancée Jane. Alan takes him to a fair where they meet Dr. Caligari, who exhibits a somnambulist, Cesare, that can predict the future. When Alan asks how long he has to live, Cesare says he has until dawn. The prophecy comes to pass, as Alan is murdered, and Cesare is a prime suspect. Cesare creeps into Jane's bedroom and abducts her, running from the townspeople and finally dying of exhaustion. Meanwhile, the police discover a dummy in Cesare's cabinet, while Caligari flees. Francis tracks Caligari to a mental asylum. He is the director! Or is he? REVIEW: If The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari had been re-made in 1990 it would have likely been directed by Tim Burton and starred Johnny Depp as Edward Scissorhands Cesare, the somnambulist who may or may not be killing local townsfolk in this strange and extraordinary story. The film, though, was directed in 1920 Germany by Robert Weine and starred Conrad Veidt (whose best known role would come later in Casablanca, as Major Strasser). The inspiration of Caligari on Burton is not publicly known but is easily identified in any number of his films, from Beetle Juice to A Nightmare Before Christmas to Edward Scissorhands. German expressionism was all the rage during the 1920’s (and survives in Burton’s work) but Weine’s production is probably one of the first and greatest examples of the movement. The caricatured sets, the distorted faces, the exaggerated shadows; the dour disposition: all lend itself to a brew of surrealism and fantasy. Almost nightmarish, the visions in Weine’s landmark film feel as if we are in a dream and create a tone of forlorn misery and dark desperation. As our narrator Francis explains, he and his friend, Alan, went to a fair where they meet Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss). The “doctor” presents to a crowd Cesare, the Somnambulist (a sleepwalker) who has the uncanny ability to foresee the future. Alan asks Cesare how long he can expect to live to which Cesare replies, “The time is short. You die at dawn!” Alan becomes hysterical, if nothing less than for the knowledge that he may be but another victim in a rash of murders that have occurred in town recently. Sure enough, by dawn, Alan is dead. Francis suspects the doctor, but before he can prove it another killing occurs. The suspect is caught and interrogated. Is he the serial murderer? If so, what is his motive? And is he in cahoots with the doctor? The story mixes genres such as horror, murder mystery and film noir with, arguably, the first movie to include a twist ending and flashback storytelling. The premise of the screenplay written by Hans Janowitz and Carl Meyer (who would go on to write The Last Laugh and Sunrise for the phenomenal director F.W. Murnau) is loosely based on experiences both men had in their past, including the traumatic encounter Meyer suffered under a military psychiatrist and an incident where Janowitz crossed paths with a man who may have been responsible for the murder of a young woman at a fair. The original screenplay had a much darker and somber ending and played as an allegory of the authoritarian regime in Germany but fearful producers forced censorship and the ending was modified. In spite of this censorship, the film is still a wonderful testament to the expressionism movement and to the direction of Robert Weine who had limited exposure in America but whose creative influence in Germany would eventually carry over to films such as Nosferatu and Metropolis, among others. The cinematography of Willy Hameister is gorgeous and if you get a chance to see a pristine print on the large screen, take it, as you’ll find yourself astounded by its stark beauty. This is complimented by the amazing set design of Hermann Warm whose remarkable subtlety on La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc eight years later and eerie art direction for Vampyr four years after combine for a brilliant career. The acting is a perfect blend of surrealism and absurdity. The emotional reactions (or lack thereof in Cesare’s case) are wonderfully played by the main cast. As with many silent films, there are a number of versions available (as of this writing, there were at least six companies with at least one version out on VHS or DVD). Avoid at all costs any version with the contemporary score, although, some audience members have been said to enjoy the “futuristic” sound. You may also run across the option of watching it at varying lengths (51 minutes & 72 minutes are the most popular). Unless the distributor has purposefully short-changed you, the discrepancy is nothing more than the frame rate. That is to say, the 51 minute version is simply a speeded up version of the 72 minute version. The viewing experience, however, should not be affected by this difference, especially for those who are accustomed to watching silent films with adjusted frame rates. Quality ratings are varied from edition to edition of any home copy; KINO seems to have the best edition out there, though others swear to the Alpha VHS version. Title cards and tinting vary as well from version to version, however, unless one is bent on watching the film as close to the original premiere as possible, these matters will be trivial in most cases. Regardless of the version one watches (even if the contemporary music has to be muted to enjoy it), the film is a masterpiece: groundbreaking, influential, and beautifully creepy. They say it is best not to touch the classics and it is a testament both to Tim Burton and to the film itself that in 1990 he never re-made this film. Instead, he flattered the film with his imitations. Perhaps Cesare, under the careful watch of Dr. Caligari, has not terrorized townsfolk since 1920 but his imitators still haunt our big screens.
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