faust (1926)

the final film produced by friedrich wilhelm murnau in his native germany, faust (based upon the famous tale of german folklore) revolves around an incredibly simple premise, yet is magnificently epic in its full form. in fact, faust proved to be UFA's (universum film AG) most ambitious film to date, only being overtaken financially by fritz lang's metropolis the following year. in terms of set design and visual effects the film was advanced beyond its years, and still manages to impress.

the camerawork is outstanding, especially in the flight sequence. for its time this was ridiculously ambitious. the effects, although variations on simple old fashioned techniques, still work very well. it all adds up to create a very specific yet wholly appropriate style. there is a shot involving the young girl that is the object of the young faust's attention, whereby she becomes entrenched by the evil power of the necklace he gives to her, which involves an unusual camera movement that makes it appear that she grows physically whilst under its control. its a fleeting second of a shot, but fascinating nonetheless, and incredibly effective.

there is some genuinely terrifying visuals, the plague being inflicted upon the village being the one that immediately springs to mind, and sticks there too! the giant feather that makes up a section of mephisto's headpiece is downright bizarre, but all the more disturbing for it. there is a legitimate comedic streak throughout the picture, and is especially prevailant in certain scenes. the most obvious of these comic scenes would be the "he loves me, he loves me not" sequence, wherein mephisto is pursued by the character of marthe schwerdtlein. such narrative breaks were common place in the cinema of the twenties; over-serious subject matter was often broken by over the top, out of character (in terms of the style of the film) sections.

the film is rife with religious allusions, much further beyond the literal footing that the subject matter carries with it. the scene towards the end of the film revolving around gretchen's walk across the snowy field is akin to the proverbial trek across the desert, with the omnipresent tree even reminiscent of a palm tree. im not sure whether or not this is intentional, but its a great little touch. the religious aspect ties into the films overlying and ultimate theme; that of redemption.

the night of the hunter (1955)

french film bible, cahiers du cinema recently named charles laughton's sole directorial effort as the second greatest film of all time, which in anyone's eyes is quite the achievement, but in the mind of someone whom regards the french magazines opinion very highly its even more of an endorsement. having not seen the night of the hunter for around five years, it was with the poll that im conducting at the moment (see the 400 blows) in mind that i revisited it.

has there ever been a more chilling villain in all of cinema than robert mitchum's 'preacher'? this is the performance that defines mitchum's career for this viewer, and it is a portrayal that affected me many years before having actually seen the film. you see, i have fond memories from my childhood, of seeing a photograph of robert mitchum, hands adorned with love/hate, leaning against a white picket fence and smiling affably into the camera. it would later transpire that this photograph was a (rather oddly chosen) promotion still from the night of the hunter, although at the time i genuinely didnt have a clue where it was from, and in a similiar vain i dont actually remember where it was that i saw the photo. it was from this brief tease that i searched out the night of the hunter on VHS. i must have been around 15.

having finally discovered the film that had lingered in my mind for so long i wasnt disappointed, although i will admit that some of the films deeper subtext did go over my head at the time. it wasnt until this most recent viewing that i was fully able to comprehend the entire scope of the picture. understanding the logistics of the silent film and german expressionism helped a great deal too, in providing further enjoyment, as i feel that laughton's film owes as much to murnau or lang as it does to the contemporary cinema of the mid-1950's. the stark blacks of the starkly star-decorated skies add a depth quite unusual for typical hollywood fare of the time, and while the general concept is dealt with in a fairly laconic manner, the horror on display is rather heavy and forebearing. the controversial nature of the representation of the 'preacher' in the film may have drawn protest too, although i sincerely doubt his actual credentials. in spite of all of this, the fact that the film is one of cinema history's all-time great failures is still beyond me, with the repurcusions felt by the films director one of the biggest crimes of the incident.

charles laughton's reluctance to work on the other side of the camera is one of the great injustice's of the cinema, the enticing question of "what if...?" has rarely been more apt.

sunrise - song of two humans (1927)

perhaps the greatest silent film of all time, sunrise - a song of two humans is a product of two very different minds. creatively, the film was masterfully conceived by german filmmaker friedrich wilhelm murnau (f.w.murnau for short), who was lured to america with the promise of a blank cheque by william fox. together they crafted what would go on to be described by influential film periodical cahiers du cinema as "the single greatest masterwork in the history of the cinema".

the film opens with the premise of -
"this song of the man and his wife is of no place and every place; you might hear it anywhere at any time"
a fact that rings true in many ways. despite the fact that the film is over 80 years old, it proves, much in the same way that a text by shakespeare might, that love is a universal and recurring truth. the pain of remorse and longing is felt in an incredibly jarring and naked manner. the emotion is laid bear and genuinely effects, which when you consider that the tools at hand to murnau didnt actually include conversation, arguably the most emotive form of communication, then the execution is all the more impressive.

the film follows the story of a man and his wife, peasents on a farm in a town over-run by tourists during the summer, who's relationship is thrown into turmoil upon the arrival of a young city girl. the man embarks on an affair with the girl, a bold action and major taboo to be explored on screen in the nineteen twenties, when, blinded by love and pursuaded to do so by the girl, the man plots to killl his wife. in the midst of attempting to commit the act of murder the man realises he cant go through with it and his wife escapes to a neary city. the rest of the film follows their journey through the alienating and culturally polar city, where they encounter a fun fair, a barber shop and fruitful traffic.

the city girl is a very early protege of the archetypal femme fatale. the fact that she uses the concept of her sexuality (prevalent heavily in almost all of her scenes through the choice of clothing the character wears) to lure and manipulate the man, again in an extremely bold manner for the time of the films production. the effects of the affair caused by the city girl are seen throughout the film, the emotional effects are not forgotten and lend to a fairly complex psyche for the lead characters, something seen most prominently in the scene in the barbers where both the man and his wife are overcome with serious cases of jealousy when each interact with the opposite sex.

while the film deals with some pretty heavy subjects it still lends itself a sense of humour. one scene in particular brought a smile to this viewers face like no other in recent memory. a piglit escapes from one of the fairground attractions, causing all manner of havok, before our protagonist can lend himself to the story and step out of the scenario as the true hero. as neanderthal as it may be, few sites can make a grown man laugh as much as that of a small pig drinking red wine and subsequently tumbling over.