I am a great lover of classic film noir and Italian giallo. Any discussion of those genres inevitably leads to how influenced they were by German Expressionism. I thought I had a pretty good handle on what was meant by German Expressionism by watching so many noirs and gialli and numerous other films that are said to be inspired by Expressionism. Dear readers, I had no idea what I was talking about. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is ground zero for German Expressionism. It is the very beginning of the genre and its apex. Its visual style completely transformed cinema. Its influence can be seen not only on film noir and giallo, but in nearly every dream sequence ever made, and every psychological horror you’ve ever watched. And my God, Tim Burton should have to write royalty checks to whoever owns the rights to this film every time he sits in the director’s chair.
Buy The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari 4K UHDThe often-imitated but never-bested set design is a nightmarish milieu of twisted buildings, tilted windows, dark and narrow alleys, jagged landscapes, and impossible passageways. Everything looks like a theatrical set with canvas backdrops, wobbly walls, and theatrical layouts all of which give the film a weird, artificial quality.
Light streaks and shadows are painted onto the walls and floors. On one set, a large star is painted on the floor imitating how real light from the fake lamp would illuminate the ground. In another, a staircase is streaked with light paint like the sun snaking its beams upward toward the stars. In yet another scene, the characters in the foreground are set upon a high stage. Behind them are invisible stairs leading to a lower platform where the tops of circus tents can be seen. Farther back still is a painted backdrop of a mountain scene. All of this gives the impression of great depth, of an enormous landscape that was really occurring on a small stage.
Words can’t describe this movie. It truly must be seen to be believed. If you are any sort of film fan at all, then you have no doubt seen still images from this film. But even they do not do the movie justice. Watching them in action is unbelievable.
With all of that incredible visual style going on, the plot almost seems inconsequential (almost). I must admit that I still struggle with watching silent films. My mind inevitably wanders during the slow parts. Luckily, there aren’t a lot of slow parts in this film. The story involves a series of murders that take place in a strange little town. Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss) is a hypnotist who introduces his audience to Cesare (Conrad Veidt), a somnambulist (that’s a sleepwalker to you laymen – and yes, I had to look it up) who is sleeping in a coffin. Caligari notes he has been sleeping like that for some 20 years. He then awakens the poor man and tells the audience he can answer any question put to him. The good-natured Alan (Hans Heinrich von Twardowski) asks, “How long shall I live?” to which the somnambulist replies, “You die at dawn.” Sure enough, Alan is dead by dawn.
Naturally, the police suspect Caligari and Cesare so they put a watch on them. Cesare is seen sleeping in his coffin all night. That very night someone attempted to kidnap a woman named Jane (Lil Dagover). Also that night the police arrested another man who had attempted to kill an elderly woman with a knife that suspiciously looked like the original murder weapon. But he was in jail when Jane was abducted. If Cesare was sleeping and this other suspect was in jail, then who is the real killer?
We know it was Cesare because the film shows us. We watch him attempt to stab Jane, then change his mind only to kidnap her. Then he gets chased by some villagers who ultimately let her go. But how could he have done the deed when he was seen sleeping all night? I’ll let the film answer that for you. Or perhaps Wikipedia as it did for me. I had a hard time following all the plot points.
It all concludes with a twist ending that is so bold the writers of the film originally protested it. All of this is bookended by a frame story in which a man sits in a park with an elderly man telling him the film’s plot as something that happened to him years prior.
A film like this is difficult to review. It is a true classic. It has been revered by cinephiles for over 100 years now. It has been talked about, reviewed, and studied a thousand times over. Until now, it was a huge gap in my cinematic knowledge. I’m happy to say it holds up in every way to its legendary status.
Kino Lorber presents The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari in 4K UHD. The 4K restoration was previously released in 2014 as a Blu-ray but this is the fist time it has been released in its native 4K. It looks fantastic. It is gobsmackingly brilliant. I mean yes, there are the occasional signs of debris and delineation, but considering the age of the film that is to be expected.
The film comes with three sets of audio scores. Jeff Beal created a very modern-sounding jazz score with some interesting vocalizations for the 2014 release. It comes in both a DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 and 2.0. Then there is a more standard orchestral score and a funky, Halloween-y score from DJ Spooky. I read once that the reason many people don’t like silent films is because the scores that often come with them are cheaply made, plinky piano things. I always appreciate it when a home-video release gets a newly realized score by someone who actually cares. It was fun then to flip through these three different scores and see how they changed my viewing of the film. I ultimately landed on the orchestral score, but that’s just me.
The 4K UHD disc comes with an audio commentary from Jeff Beal, who discusses his various choices in composing his music. The Blu-ray includes an archival 53-minute documentary that discusses the socio-political climate in Germany when the film was made and the great influence Caligari has had on cinema. There are also two short restoration demonstrations.
