Showing posts with label F.W. Murnau. Show all posts
Showing posts with label F.W. Murnau. Show all posts

Saturday, November 7, 2015

Review Hub - Silent Cinema


With our November salute to Silent films, we thought it would be a good time to create a Review Hub to showcase all the silent films we've reviewed thus far on Trophy Unlocked. 

The era of silent films (1894-1929) is one rich with some of the greatest films ever produced. While we, at Trophy Unlocked tend towards the comedies and the work of Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd, some great dramatic works were also made during this time, including Sunrise and Wings. This is an era of birth, in which cinema was learning to tell stories and ideas were passed through pantomime and title cards. And while the era of silent films came to an end in 1929, with the release of The Jazz Singer, silent films were still made beyond that time, most notably by Chaplin, who continued making silent films well into the 30's. The fairly recent French film, The Artist (2011) demonstrates that you don't always need words to entertain.  

Just like there are many great black and white Academy ratio films made before you were born, there are also some really great silent films which we encourage you to seek out as well. Here are the ones we've reviewed so far and we'll keep adding to the list as time goes by:



City Lights


Sherlock, Jr.  


Sunrise


The Artist (2011)

Wings (1927)


Nosferatu (1922) 

Safety Last (1923)



Modern Times (1936)


The Phantom of the Opera (1925)


The Squaw Man (1914)



Kid Auto Races at Venice (1914)
Show People (1928)


Tillie's Punctured Romance


Steamboat Bill, Jr. 


Shoulder Arms (1918)



The Birth of a Nation (1915)


London After Midnight


The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari



A Submarine Pirate

Fatty and Mabel Adrift (1916)

The Immigrant (1917)
One Week




Intolerance (1916)

The Adventurer 



Beggars of Life


A Dog's Life



Seven Chances (1925)


The Balloonatic (1923)

Monday, October 1, 2012

Stubs – Nosferatu


NOSFERATU aka Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens (1922) Starring: Max Schreck, Gustav von Wangenheim, Greta Schröder. Directed by F.W. Murnau. Screenplay by Henrik Galeen. Inspired by Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Produced by Enrico Dieckmann and Albin Grau. Run time: 94. Color tinted black and white. Germany. Horror, Silent

With Halloween later this month, I thought it might be interesting to take a look at some horror films, the most appropriate genre at this time of year. It might interest you to know that the horror film dates back to 1896 with Georges Melies’ Le Manoir du Diable (aka The Haunted Castle). While Melies made the film to amuse viewers, it is still considered to be the first horror film and the first vampire film to boot. What’s old is new again.

But while a French magician/filmmaker may have invented the genre, it may have taken German Expressionism to make them actually scary. While no one wants a film history lesson, it is important to know that German Expressionism had a major influence on not only horror films, but also film noir. The movement which had been around before World War I, reached its peak in the 1920’s. German Expressionism was part of a larger European expressionist movement in not only cinema, but also in architecture and painting.

Following Germany’s defeat in World War I, cinema began to explode in that country. However, with inflation on the rise in the Weimar Republic at an almost geometric rate, costs were of a great concern. To save on lighting, as an example, the sets featured exaggerated shadows painted in on the walls and floors. Like their sets, the films dealt with heavy and heady issues like madness, insanity and betrayal, as opposed to action and adventure or romantic films. Directors like Fritz Lang and F.W. Murnau would bring this style of filmmaking with them to Hollywood, which saw an immigration of talent from Germany as Hitler came to power.

Bram Stoker’s Dracula was first published in 1897 to good reviews, but was not considered to be a best seller when it was released. Still, in 1921, Albin Grau wanted to make a vampire movie, based in part on his own experience from World War I. In the winter of 1919, a Serbian farmer told him that his father was not only one of the undead, but also a vampire. When Grau and Enrico Dieckmann founded Prana Film, they couldn’t afford to buy rights to Stoker’s novel, so instead, they hired Henrik Galeen, an experienced screenwriter [The Student of Prague (1913) and The Golem (1920)] to write one inspired by the novel. Galeen changed character names, dropped the Van Helsing vampire hunter character and changed the setting to a fictional German seaport, Wisborg.

It is in Wisborg that Thomas Hutter (Gustav von Wangenheim) lives with his wife Ellen (Greta Schroder) and works for Knock (Alexander Granach), a real estate agent. Knock sends Hutter to visit a potential new client, Count Orlok to sell him the house that is right across from Thomas’. Before leaving for what promises to be a long business trip, Thomas puts Ellen in the care of his good friends Harding (Georg H. Schnell) and sister Annie.

After a journey of several months, Thomas arrives in a village near Orlok’s castle. At the village tavern, Thomas mentions his business with Orlok, which sends fear throughout the inn. Everyone warns him not to go. But Thomas does not heed their warnings. But a wolf has come down from the mountains and scared away Thomas’ horses, so he is forced to stay the night. The next morning he hires a coach, but the driver will only go as far as a bridge in a high mountain pass. As night is falling the driver refuses to go further. Getting out of the coach and walking across the bridge, Thomas is approached by an eerie looking black coach that moves surrealistically fast. In what is no doubt a cheap special effect, the journey on the coach is shown in reverse. Black is white and white is black as the coach races to Orlok’s castle.

Finally, Thomas meets Count Orlok (Max Schreck), a bat-like man with long fingers, pointy ears, sharp teeth, bugged out eyes and no hair. That night at dinner, Thomas accidentally cuts himself and Count Orlok tries to lick up Thomas’ “precious blood”. This, naturally, scares Thomas, but he spends the rest of the night talking to Orlok in front of the fireplace. After Thomas falls asleep, he wakes up with two small bite marks, which he blames on mosquitoes. The next night, Thomas finalizes his deal with Orlok, selling him the deserted house across from his own. Accidentally, Orlok sees a photograph of Thomas’ wife, Ellen, to which he comments about her “beautiful neck.”

From then on, Orlok starts to plague Ellen’s dreams. After that, Thomas wakes up to find he’s alone in the castle. He comes across the coffin in which Orlok is lying in state. Horrified, Thomas cowers in his room. He has been reading The Book of Vampires, a book he took from the tavern and is now convinced that Orlok is Nosferatu, the Bird of Death. He tries but there is no way to bar the door to his room. At midnight, the door opens by itself and Orlok enters the room and Thomas falls unconscious.

That evening, Thomas wakes up in time to see Orlok loading coffins into a carriage. Orlok crawls into the last one before the carriage starts away. Thomas tries to escape from the castle by climbing down a rope made of bed sheets, but falls and loses consciousness. He later wakes up in a hospital and immediately leaves for Wisborg, hoping to beat Orlok. Meanwhile, the coffins get loaded onto a ship, the Empusa. Orlok manages to kill off the crew except the Captain (Max Nemetz) and the First Mate (Wolfgang Heinz). When the First Mate goes below to destroy the coffins, Orlok frightens him into jumping into the ocean. The captain becomes the last victim after he lashes himself to the wheel to maintain course and dies there.

Ellen by now is under Orlok’s spell and is just waiting for him to arrive. When the boat lands in Wisborg, Orlok and some rats depart. Unobserved, Orlok carries the coffin to his new house. Thomas returns to Wisborg and heads for Ellen. She feels better now that her husband is back with her. Authorities board the ship and find the Captain’s dead body. They assume that the boat has brought the plague and people start dying in town.

Knock, who has been institutionalized for having gone insane, presumably because of his own connection to Orlok, escapes after killing the warden and is chased by townspeople. Orlok stares from his window at a sleeping Ellen. Against Thomas’ instructions, she had read the Book of Vampires, and knows the only way to defeat a vampire is for a woman who is pure in heart to distract the vampire with her beauty all through the night. She opens her window and invites Orlok to come over and then faints. Thomas tries to revive her and then heads out to get the town doctor (Gustav Botz). While he’s gone, Orlok comes into Ellen’s bedroom.

But Orlok is so engrossed by drinking Ellen’s blood that he doesn’t see that morning is coming. When the rooster crows, Orlok realizes it’s too late and he vanishes. At that moment, the great death that was plaguing Wisborg stops and as the film tells us “and the shadow of the vampire vanished as if overcame by the victorious rays of the living sun." Ellen lives only long enough to die in Thomas’ arms.

Nosferatu was the first film adaptation of Stoker’s Dracula and it wouldn’t be the last one. However, since it was made without permission, the Stoker estate sued Prana Film and won, leading to the company’s bankruptcy. A judge ordered the destruction of all the prints of the film, but one print had already been distributed around the world and other prints have been made from that. Otherwise, the film might have been lost forever.

For many, the definitive Dracula adaptation was made nine years later by Universal starring Bela Lugosi and directed by Tod Browning. But while that film relied on Lugosi’s powerful personality, it is not even the scariest Dracula released by Universal in 1931. For those that have seen it, the Spanish language version, Drácula directed by George Melford and starring Carlos Villarìas as the Conde, made at night using the same sets of Lugosi’s Dracula, is scarier.

But I would say that Nosferatu is even scarier than that. To illustrate this opinion, let’s look at the main characters:

Count Orlok (Max Schreck) Nosferatu (1922)

Count Dracula (Bela Lugosi) Dracula (1931)

Conde Drácula (Carlos Villarìas) Drácula (1931)

Of these three, I would say the one at the top is nightmare fuel. Count Orlok does not have the style or seductive powers of his American cousins. Rather he is more of a monster, his long sharp fingernails and sharp teeth (more than a couple of fangs). And Orlok is a serial killer, bringing with him the plague, killing hundreds. Dracula on the other hand probably has killed his fair share of victims, but he is not death incarnate the way Orlok is.

The special effects, which are dated, include using a negative image and sped up projection do give certain scenes an intended unrealistic look. And at the time, Nosferatu was considered so scary that it was banned in Sweden and Turkey. While I don’t think jaded modern audiences would be shocked by the film, Nosferatu is both a masterpiece and accessible example of German Expressionism.

This is also an example of director F.W. Murnau’s mastery of filmmaking. While Murnau’s career was short, lasting only twelve years from 1919 to 1931, he did leave behind four classic films: Nosferatu (1922); The Last Laugh (1924) with Emil Jannings; Faust (1926) and Sunrise (1927), made after he emigrated to Hollywood to work for Fox.

October is the time of the year to watch horror films and if you haven’t ever seen Nosferatu, you are surely missing out.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Stubs - Sunrise


SUNRISE (1927) AKA SUNRISE: A SONG OF TWO HUMANS Starring: George O’Brien, Janet Gaynor Margaret Livingston. Directed by F.W. Murnau. Written by Carl Meyer. Story by: Hermann Sudermann. Produced by William Fox. Run Time: 95 minutes, Black and White. U.S. Silent, Drama

Anyone who has been to Hollywood and Highland or who has knowledge of the Academy Awards will tell you that the first film to win Best Picture was WINGS (1927) a World War I actioner starring It girl Clara Bow, Charles “Buddy” Rogers, Richard Arlen and a very young Gary Cooper. However, that first Academy Awards, held in 1929, had two categories for the top films: Best Picture and something they no longer give: Best Picture: Unique and Artistic Production. While WINGS is renowned for its realistic flying sequences, it is by and large a forgotten film. It is the only best picture film not to be released on DVD.

SUNRISE on the other hand is still considered a classic. Made by F.W. Murnau, SUNRISE clearly has its roots in German Expressionism, a post-world war I movement that used symbolism and mise en scene (design) to add mood and deeper meaning to a film. Because money was tight in the Weimar Republic, German directors were forced to develop their own style, rather than try and compete with the films coming out of Hollywood. Murnau, best known for his Dracula adaptation, NOSFERATU (1922) and THE LAST LAUGH (1924) starring Emil Jennings, was one of Germany’s most influential silent era directors and a prominent German expressionist. In 1926, William Fox, invited Murnau to come to America and the result is SUNRISE.

The plot of the movie is slight melodramatic. A Woman from the City (Margaret Livingston), travels to the countryside on vacation and meets the Man (George O’Brien). The two have an affair right under the nose of the Wife (Janet Gaynor). The Woman tells the Man to sell the farm and come back to the city with her. The Wife, the Woman suggests, can be drowned in the lake and made to look like an accident. While the Man protests, he ultimately capitulates.

The Wife suspects nothing when the Man suggests a trip to the City. However, she grows suspicious of her husband’s motives when he stands up menacingly in the boat to throw her overboard, but stops when he realizes he can’t go through with it. When the boat lands on shore, the Wife flees.

She catches a trolley to get away, but the Man catches it, too. In the City, she runs into traffic only to be saved by her husband. Slowly, as the walk through the City, the Wife forgives her husband. He buys her flowers; they go to a church and watch a wedding. The Man breaks down finally and the two of them have reconciliation. After which they only have eyes for each other.

They wander through the City doing rather mundane stuff. They get their photograph taken, he gets a haircut, they go to an amusement park, they play a game in the Midway and they dance. When darkness comes, they jump on a trolley to begin the journey back home.

On the lake, their lazy moonlight trip home is disrupted by a sudden and violent storm that capsizes the boat. The Man wakes up on shore, but there is no wife around. He gets help from the townspeople and they search the lake for her, but only find a broken bushel of reeds that he had wrapped around her.

The Man goes home to cry for his loss. But the Woman from the City, thinking her plan has worked, goes to the Man’s house. But instead of finding an accomplice in crime, she instead finds the Man grieving for his Wife. Instead a warm embrace, he has a murderous rage and chases her down. When his hands are around her neck, the Maid calls out that his wife is alive. She had survived by holding onto the reeds and had been pulled from the lake by a fisherman.

As Sunrise comes, the Man and the Wife are a loving couple and the Woman from the City leaves town on a cart.

The acting, despite Janet Gaynor’s Academy Award for Best Actress in a Leading Role, is a bit wooden. And the wig that Gaynor wears throughout is almost laughable. But it is not the acting or costume design that sets this film apart.

It is the style of the film and especially the cinematography by Charles Rosher and Karl Struss. The tracking shots are very impressive, with one of them lasting over four minutes. The most impressive to me was the shot when the Man is going to meet the Woman by the Lake. The camera starts out trailing after him and ends up in front.

Also, the use of sets. Not only did Murnau spend a lot on the sets for The City, but he made it seem even larger through the use of forced perspective. As an example, in the foreground will be normal-sized people and normal-sized sets, but in the background are little people and smaller sets.

Another thing that is noticeable is the infrequent title cards. Silent films and their audiences had developed a certain sophistication in story telling that did not require a title card for every piece of dialogue for the plot to be followed.

Watching SUNRISE is seeing an art form at its pinnacle right before it becomes obsolete. The same year SUNRISE was released, Warner Bros. released THE JAZZ SINGER and talkies became the rage. It would take Hollywood several years to regroup and in the meantime the artistry of films would also suffer. Some might say it never has fully recovered.