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Film: Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari
Release date: 18th September 2000
Certificate: U
Running time: 71 mins
Director: Robert Wiene
Starring: Werner Krauss, Conrad Veidt, Friedrich Feher, Lil Dagover, Hans Heinrich von Twardowski
Genre: Horror
Studio: Eureka!
Format: DVD
Country: Germany
A highly influential piece of 1920s German Expressionism, Robert Wiene's Das Cabinetd des Dr. Caligari is heralded by many as one of the definitive early horrors. It's thought to be the first film to use a certain twist ending which is now found frequently in cinema, though this was not the writers‘ original intention. It is also believed that the film's expressionist style helped influence the invention of the film noir genre. Today, the film has a strong cult following in Germany and around the globe.
The narrative is told as a flashback by main protagonist Francis (Friedrich Feher), as he tells his tale to a disturbed, seemingly elderly gentleman.
This was one of the earliest uses of the Frame Story convention in cinema, and was added to the script by the producer after the start of production. Francis tells his story to explain the trauma suffered by his beloved, Jane, who is also present and acting hauntingly. He describes how his friend Alan and he encountered a Dr Caligari (Werner Krauss) at a carnival, flaunting his somnambulist Cesare (Conrad Veidt) as a sideshow. A somnambulist is, literally translated, a sleepwalker, explained in the film as a person who spends most of their life in a state of trance-like sleep. The strange Caligari can bring Cesare out of this sleep and claims that the man can predict the future.
When Cesare’s predictions of death come true, it causes Francis to grow suspicious, and he begins his tragic investigations into Dr Caligari…
It is easy to see why this film has stood the test of time. Instantly, it grips the audience with its opening scene; the misty graveyard in which two traumatised men exchange competing tales of woe, shortly followed by the entrance of a beautiful but disturbed girl. She mutters to herself with troubled, dark-rimmed eyes, dressed in white - the perfect image of Gothic horror. Unlike F. W. Murnau’s Nosferatu, which starts lightly and descends into darkness, this commencement scene reveals the darkness which the characters are headed towards, whilst still keeping the reveal hidden. This draws us in with a sense of foreboding hanging over every following scene - excellent application of a technique, which was new to cinema at the time.
The plot itself, however, is simplistic to a modern audience. It travels from A to B without much in the way of twists and turns – except, of course, for the ending. Interestingly, the end was supposed to be straight forward, but was deemed “too dark” to be released, and so a new ending had to be invented and tacked onto the end. This sudden new ending, fortunately, makes sense with the plot (unlike, say, the proposed alternative sugar-sweet ending for Brazil). It also comes as completely unexpected, as there were, of course, no clues about it seeded throughout the plot. This comes as especially unexpected due to the simplistic, un-subtle nature of the rest of the narrative – if the ending had been intended from the start, it may have been far too obvious. As it is, it shocked audiences who had never seen this happen before, and started a popular trend. There is much debate over the symbolic significance of these additions to the film, and how they affect the original messages; that of mind-washing and corruption in a time when the Nazi party were starting to gain power and favour. Some believe it added to, and others believe it detracted from this message. The only way to form your own opinion is to watch it!
The most notable achievement of the film is the art direction. Hermann Warm’s almost cartoonish sets are creative and expressive; perfect examples of German Expressionist art. Their off-kilter nature reflects that of the film, keeping the audience unsettled with small details, like a crooked door or slanted window. The style has influenced many directors since, such as the personal art and earlier films of American director Tim Burton, as well as many lower-budget cult directors. Richard Elfman’s 1980 cult hit, The Forbidden Zone features very similar sets, and is just one of many. The makeup used can also be seen to have influenced both these men. It is used effectively in the film to exaggerate expressions, particularly in the cases of Caligari and Cesare, where eyes are sometimes painted on top of closed eyelids to emphasize staring.
Whereas the art techniques have only been carried over into more cult or surrealist films, Willy Hameister’s striking use of lighting helped set a bar for later films of many genres. In black-and-white, the use of shadows and light are particularly important, and the bold choice of such drastic contrasts helped set a tone that was adopted by noir as the genre developed. It helps the sets appear surreal, but more importantly keeps the tone edgy and dangerous, which is what made the style so befitting to noir film. Black and white lines were painted on sets to imitate lighting, combining with the actual lighting to warp the images and seemingly bend the laws of physics. One would almost expect the sets to move like a Sally Cruickshank cartoon, fluid and dream-like. In fact, in one moment of distress, animation is used to convey a character’s troubled state of mind, but even without this, the scenes are nightmarish, engaging and memorable, making up for the occasionally slow storytelling.
The camerawork is a weak link in an otherwise strong chain. Stage-like sets and milling marketplace scenes put one in mind of a play more than a movie, and the static camerawork adds to this sensation. Film was still a new art, and it took several decades for moviemakers to fully drop the theatre mentality (later expressed through large musical set pieces), but with such interesting shapes and images on screen, more dynamic and experimental camerawork would have helped bring the potential to life.
Still, this is a product of the time, as is the acting, which, of course, seems over the top to us now. However, it is still highly enjoyable, and we mustn’t forget that there was nothing hammy about it to its original audience. With that considered, some of the acting is very strong, particularly that of Francis, a likable protagonist, and Cesare, a powerful performance from German legend Conrad Veidt. This was one of Veidt’s defining roles, and his presence left a lasting impression on many minds. Again a source of inspiration in the film, his influence can be seen in characters such as Tim Burton’s Edward Scissorhands.
Though not believable by modern standards, Werner Kraus’ performance also left a lasting impression, expressive and deranged. The damsel in distress, Jane (Lil Dagover), is less convincing to us, but her over-the top use of bold poses convey her distress and fear with strength, in the same way Greek actors would project emotions in an amphitheatre.
The film is available from several distributors, with a choice of optional musical soundtracks. The best quality restoration available in the UK seems to be from Eureka Entertainment.
A modern audience may no longer find this film frightening, but it isn’t one you’ll forget. An art show come to life, it’s worth a viewing purely to feast on the visuals. It is a must-see for historical value, as it has greatly influenced cinema in all areas, from scripting to cinematography. Occasionally campy, but ultimately tragic, Caligari entertains as well as plays on your sympathies, and once viewed, it will change your perception of cinema forever, for its fingerprints are everywhere to be found. AIB
Conrad Veidt was an iconic German actor who left his impression on many through several haunting horror and villain roles. However, his current cult following is drawn to him through his defiance in the face of the Nazi regime as much as it is by his career. Unafraid to speak out against the Third Reich at the time of Hitler’s power, his political opinions and loyalty to his Jewish wife got him blacklisted in Germany, and made him the target of Gestapo assignation attempts.
Veidt has had many roles, most memorably his role as the hypnotized somnambulist Cesare in The Cabinet Of Dr Caligari (1920). When speaking about the role years later, he said, “No matter what roles I play, I can't get Caligari out of my system.” Despite being the monster figure of this silent horror, the subtlety in his acting made the character eerily sympathetic, and an image that would last through the years, and inspire the appearance and mannerisms of such characters as Edward Scissorhands (Tim Burton, 1990).
His most famous and highly paid role, however, was ironically as Gestapo Maj. Strasser in Casablanca (1942). Though not the star, he was the highest paid actor on the film. Veidt was often type-cast as Nazis in American and British cinema due to his nationality. Had he lived longer, sadly this probably would have continued. Only twice was he cast in a hero role in American cinema – in Nazi Agent, a b-movie in which he played two brothers, and Above Suspicion, in which he was a supporting actor. He played villains exquisitely, often with a worryingly light, almost comical element that mingled with his sinister tones to create something very twisted. This had made him a legend in Germany. In America, this meant Nazi roles, repeatedly portraying the people that had alienated him from his home. Each negative portrayal of them was a slight revenge, but he craved the variety he’d had in German film and onstage. He got a little bit of this in England, where he eventually got his dream of a heroic action role in Under The Red Robe (1937).
“I was never a villain on the stage. I always played strong, sympathetic types. My first stage role with a speaking part, believe it or not, was as a priest. It wasn't until I began acting in films that the producers and directors saw me primarily as a bizarre villain.”
He had many great roles in German cinema, in films such as Der Kongress Tanzt (1931) or Ich und die Kaiserin (1933), and Germany’s first ‘talkie’, Bride Number 69 (1929). In the 1928 silent, The Man Who Laughs, he played a unique character - Gwynplaine, a child stolen by gypsies who has his face mutilated to be sold to a freak show. He escapes, but must live his life with a horrifying grin forever carved on his face. The role is a testimony to Veidt’s acting, who managed to convey pain, fear, love, uncertainty…all with a manic grin still on his face. To create the grin, he was given tooth caps that would hook back his cheeks. In the genre of silent acting, where expressions were exaggerated in order to communicate, being restricted to acting with his eyes was a dramatic achievement for Veidt.
However, he came to rely on his career in British and American cinema after fleeing Germany in 1933 due to the rise of Hitler, knowing his defense of Jews and hatred of the Nazi party would prove dangerous. He often spoke out against them on the radio, a dangerous undertaking which he felt compelled to do. Despite this, he would eventually return to unsafe Germany to work there again as well, because he felt his English was not good enough to maintain a career in English-speaking ‘talkies’ alone.
Veidt was not highly educated. He attended the Sophiengymnasium in the Schoeneberg district of Berlin, graduating without a diploma in 1912. He came last in his class of 13. But, like many who are less prolific at school, he found a future in his natural talent for acting.
On screen, Veidt’s presence was stunning. Even in horror roles, audiences found there was often something oddly appealing about him. He had an unconventional appearance, but striking eyes and a natural charisma which resulted in the catchphrase “Women Fight for Conrad Veidt" being coined. He was almost cast in the Dracula role that made Bella Lugosi’s name, but lost it when the director for the project was changed.
He made his biggest impact on modern culture, not by playing Dracula, but through his leading role in The Man Who Laughs. If you look at Gwynplaine, you will see a striking resemblance to the original design for one of Batman’s greatest nemeses, the Joker. Bob Kane, the inventor of Batman, based the Joker’s design directly on Veidt’s appearance in this film, a fitting testimony to his prowess at villainy.
Another less likely claim to fame is the song he recorded in 1933, ‘When The Lighthouse Shines Across The Bay’. At the time, the record flopped, but remarkably became a hit in 1980, almost fifty years later, after Terry Wogan received a request to play it on the Radio 2 breakfast show. After this swell in popularity, it found its way onto a now out of print nostalgia album, Move Star Memories. It is also available on Amazon.
Veidt was not one to conform, and often took chances, in both his personal life and career. He always put “Juden” (Jew) as his ethnic identity on his job application forms, to stand by his wife and share in any prejudice she faced. He also took risks to speak out against other prejudices – in 1919 he starred in Anders als die Andern (Different From The Others). This film is sited as the first ever to deal sympathetically with homosexuality. In it, Veidt plays a homosexual concert violinist who falls in love with his male student, but ends up losing everything he has and being disgraced because of the German law at the time forbidding homosexual behavior. The narrative has a tragic ending, as did the film itself; in 1930 Hitler had it burnt, and sadly large chunks of it are now missing as a result. However, fifty minutes of scenes still remain, and are possible to obtain or to view online. It was a surprisingly sensitive and extremely daring work by Richard Oswald, co-written and co-funded by Dr. Magnus Hirschfeld, who was campaigning against the outlawing of homosexual behavior at the time. It was one of a series of educational films made by the doctor, and does not hold back in presenting its bold message.
This outspoken nature of Veidt’s became dangerous when the Nazis took power, hence his decision to flee to the UK. He was blacklisted, and when in Germany, he only escaped assassination attempts by the Gestapo through luck. Though he loved his country, he hated its leaders, which led him to support Britain in its war effort against his own land. He gave them most of his estate, and also gave the British War Relief a large portion of his salary from each film he worked on.
He was divorced twice, but stayed married to Ilona (Lily) Prager for the last decade of his life. He had one child with previous wife Felicitas Radke; Viola Vera Veidt. Despite his dicing with death in the face of Nazi Germany, he died of a heart attack whilst playing golf at the 8th hole of the Riviera Country Club, Los Angeles, California. He was playing with Arthur Field of MGM and his personal doctor, Dr. Bergman. Bergman pronounced him dead at the scene. His daughter Viola also died of a heart attack some years later.
Tragically, because he had been blacklisted, nobody in Germany was informed of Veidt’s death. He was a beloved figure, and yet no-one was allowed to know. His own family only heard the news via his ex-wife and his daughter, who had fled to Switzerland and heard about it on the radio.
Today his fans remember him for the little things; he liked theatre, cinema, fast cars, pastries, thunderstorms, gardening, swimming, and, of course, golfing. He disliked heights, flying, the number 17, wearing ties, pudding, and interviews. They also remember him for his bravery to speak when others didn’t, but mostly it is his performances that will live on and continue to stun audiences for decades. Conrad once said, “I have no illusions about my art. I am what the public made me and, consequently, I am not likely to forget my debt to them." AIB
