Metropolis

Fritz Lang, Germany 1926, 107 minutes

The original dystopic movie, the first sci-fi epic; Lang’s skilful juxtaposition of Germanic gothicism with Art Deco resulted in a brilliant motion picture, a classic in every sense.

With its pioneering fantasy sequences and striking imagery, brimming with sex and violence, the embryonic movie model for a utopian future was as provocative on release as it is lauded today. It delivered a leap in film design which has influenced the work of Kubrick, Ridley Scott and innumerable other artists. The futuristic setting for the story is intended as mythical, with 1920s architecture providing the backdrop for the ultimate fairy-tale, a masterful blend of political intrigue and biblical metaphor.

On the surface, the wealthy inhabitants of the city enjoy life in their palatial apartments. They do not know that deep underground, armies of slaves work gruelling shifts to maintain their luxurious lifestyle. Yet one man, awoken by lascivious desire and now conscious of a superficial aura, ventures beneath to expose the immoral truth. A mad scientist creates a robot replica (that looks like C-3PO with breasts) of the saintly Maria to keep the workers placid, but it develops an agenda of its own and sparks off a revolution.

Though the final message of the film will leave many grimacing, visually the film is still untouchable. The awesome laboratory scene is still plundered today, and is a must-see for any real film fan.

Originally clocking in at over two hours, yet often seen in various truncated versions; a recent restoration provides a wonderful opportunity for viewers to gain an added insight into this gripping vision. Though legendary as a work of art whose graphic magnetism is exceeded only by its conceptual audacity, Metropolis can be viewed as a twisted family drama; as a timeless archive of repression, revolution and reconciliation.

Review by Chay Williamson
Taken from EUFS Programme Spring 2004

The year is 2000. The city of Metropolis is divided in two. On the surface dwell the rulers, a minority living lives of idle pleasure. Below the surface dwell the workers, a majority living lives of brutal toil. One day Maria (Brigitte Helm), a worker, visits the pleasure garden of the rich. Freder, son of the ruler of Metropolis. Intrigued by her, goes down to the worker's city. He is horrified by what he sees and confronts his father, Fredersen (confusing counterintuitive names eh!). Fredersen, however, is not one to compromise. He hatches a plan to have mad scientist Rotwang, who has perfected the art of robotics, construct a robot double of Maria. She will then subvert the workers revolt...

One of the first science fiction films, Fritz Lang's Metropolis is a film of two parts. The story, by Lang's then wife Thea von Harbou, is, as the above synopsis suggests, sentimental, simplistic rubbish. The religious allegories are unsubtle and the politically dubious ending, as Lang himself acknowleged, unbelievable. But Lang's visuals, including the creation of the robot doppelganger of Maria (a huge machine which turns into a mechanical demon) and the huge, `architecturalised' crowd scenes, still have the power to impress and have exerted a strong influence on the look of sci-fi cinema to this day. Impress they should: Metropolis had a huge budget which bankrupted the massive Ufa studios; it took 18 months to film and had a cast of 36,000!

In 1933 Goebbels, who had been very impressed by Metropolis, invited Lang to head the German film industry under Nazi rule, despite their banning Lang's The Last Testament of Dr Mabuse (1933) on political grounds. Lang, who had previously rejected offers from Hollywood, told Goebbels he would think about it, packed his bags and immediately fled to America, not to return to German cinema for nearly 30 years.

Review by Keith H Brown
Taken from EUFS Programme 1997-98

One of Fritz Lang's most involving films and an example of how silent films circumvented a lack of sound by adapting form an expression. The genre is being used to best effect here, in this extended piece of social criticism that draws on Socialist, Anarchist, Christian and Humanist sources to tell the tale of a twenty-first century city and its residents. The fantastic nature of the tale, which mixes and projects myths and cliches into a futuristic setting sits well with the sense of alienation created by silence.

Metropolis, which contains the action (the physical and intellectual creation of modem man) is not united: the tyrannical industrialist men and Rotwang, an evil scientist, keep the workers in labyrinthine passages in the depths of Metropolis, whilst the rich enjoy a life of leisure in the upper levels of the city. However, the Industrialist's son has fallen in love with Maria, leader of the workers. His father, who wants the workers to riot as an excuse to cursh their spirit, gets Rotwang to build a mechanical Maria, who leads the masses to revolt. The rebellion escalates to disastrous proportions. Only the unification of the real Maria, her lover and the workers prevents the ensuing destmction of Metropolis.

The obvious fits of metaphor and parable sometimes make Metropolis seem naive, but this is more a symptom of the developing complexity of the viewer rather than a fault of the film. Nevertheless, for exuberant expressionism, it's about as good as they come. With an atmosphere alternately an impersonal, industrial hell, and an Eden-like Metropolis, it remains impressive even today - as long as you take its slightly heavy-handed mixing of political and religious imagery in your stride.

Review by Ian Lindley
Taken from EUFS Programme 1994-95