By Michael Shook
While I consider myself a modern individual—aside from my aversion to cell phones, which stems more from a desire to be genuinely engaged with the world around me than any rejection of contemporary society—I have always harbored a fascination for various historical periods, particularly those from both distant and more contemporary times. One era that captivates me is the first half of the 20th century, characterized by exceptional music, profound literature, and groundbreaking films that continue to resonate today. It is tempting to label this epoch as a golden age; however, regardless of nomenclature, it undoubtedly represents a remarkable cultural period.
Among the numerous gifts life has presented to me, one of the most invaluable is the knowledge that film remains a relatively new and evolving medium. Although the art form has existed for over 60 years, its youthfulness is palpable. Prior to the late 1800s, the creation of a film was technically impossible, as the necessary technology simply did not exist. This provides an exhilarating opportunity to engage with and appreciate the early years and initial manifestations of cinema, allowing us to witness firsthand the evolution of this extraordinary art form.
What a delightful prospect it would be if we could enjoy the finest black and white films on a grand scale, projected on a full-sized screen. If I were to envision such an experience, I would certainly prioritize showing a selection of beloved silent films—timeless classics that are not only well-remembered but have also profoundly influenced subsequent cinematic works.
First and foremost, I would present Fritz Lang’s stunning 1927 silent epic, “Metropolis” (which should not be confused with Coppola’s more recent film of the same name). This cinematic masterpiece astonishes on multiple levels, from its impressive length of almost 2½ hours to its breathtaking acting, intricate set designs, groundbreaking special effects, and an emotional depth that evokes both excitement and sorrow. Lang, known for pursuing perfection in his craft, inspired his actors and crew with the same intensity that would later be seen in the works of Stanley Kubrick. The labors of the cast and crew result in a film that, while occasionally uneven, stands firm as superb entertainment, and the myriad themes explored within can provoke stimulating discussions for hours on end.
Next on the list is the 1922 film “Nosferatu,” directed by the masterful F.W. Murnau, widely recognized as the first authentic vampire film (note that a 1920 film titled “Genuine” does not qualify since it depicts a succubus rather than a true vampire). This unauthorized adaptation of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” is undeniably one of the eeriest films I have ever encountered. Although it does not instill terror in the same way that “Psycho” or “The Shining” does, it possesses an unsettling quality that lingers in the viewer’s mind long after the credits roll, as famously articulated by Roger Ebert.
Max Schreck’s portrayal of the vampire Count Orlok profoundly contributes to this haunting experience, marked by his stellar performance and striking makeup—those fingernails and those teeth evoke an unsettling fascination! Furthermore, while we’re on the topic of vampire lore, the film “Shadow of the Vampire” (released in 2000), though neither silent nor black and white, serves as a compelling companion piece to “Nosferatu.” This fictional retelling of the film’s production is both riveting and chilling, peppered with moments of humor and concluding with unexpected twists; it also serves as a commentary on our late 20th and early 21st century obsession with fame and being in the spotlight.
Lastly, we delve into “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari,” a 1920 film celebrated as a quintessential representation of German Expressionism and often hailed as the first true horror film. In any classic horror narrative, the antagonist typically tries to charm those around him. However, the enigmatic Dr. Caligari quickly reveals himself to be a deeply nefarious character who harbors a murderous somnambulist within his cabinet. Yet, the truth remains shrouded in ambiguity.
Who is Caligari? Who is Cesare, the sleepwalker? Our assumptions may be put to the test, as the film deftly navigates the divisions between the conscious mind and the often tumultuous inner psyche. The stunning set designs and innovative cinematography continually disorient the audience, reflecting the chaotic inner struggles of the characters. As art forms are destined to do, “Caligari” mirrors the sentiments of its time, addressing the great existential crises prompted by the devastation of World War I and the consequent social upheaval in early Weimar Germany.
Now, onto the realm of talkies! Following the profound intensity of the previous films, something light-hearted, frothy, and joyous would surely be a welcome relief. And few films exude as much whimsy and cheer as “The Thin Man” murder mystery series, which first graced screens in 1934. Adapted from Dashiell Hammett’s acclaimed novel, the film features William Powell as Nick Charles, a charming blue-collar detective who retires from sleuthing after marrying the vivacious and glamorous Nora, portrayed by Myrna Loy. Completing this delightful ensemble is a wire-haired fox terrier named Skippy, who captures the audience’s heart in the role of their beloved dog Asta. The canine star was nearly as famous as his human co-stars, earning an impressive $250 a week for his scene-stealing antics.
Although the first three films in this beloved series capture my personal favorite moments, a total of six installments followed, in addition to a burst of related media including a radio show, television series, Broadway musical, and stage play. The impeccable fashion of the men, with their sharp suits and stylish hats, complements the stunning gowns and luxurious furs adorning the women, all the while the characters indulge in cocktails and cigarettes as if there were no tomorrow. However, it’s not merely the sumptuous visuals that enthrall; the rapid-fire dialogue, clever quips, and sparkling witticisms explode like confetti on New Year’s Eve.
The undeniable allure of Loy and Powell, coupled with their intoxicating chemistry, makes me yearn to join them at one of their extravagant cocktail parties, donning a stylish tuxedo and absorbing the lively atmosphere, because it exudes sheer delight—even when it requires investigating a murder!
**Interview with Michael Shook about Early Cinema and Fritz Lang’s “M”**
**Interviewer:** Michael, you’ve described a fascinating relationship with early cinema. Can you talk about what stands out to you about this era, specifically in regard to Fritz Lang’s work?
**Michael Shook:** Absolutely! The early 20th century was an extraordinary time for film. It marked the birth of an art form that has continuously evolved over the years. Fritz Lang’s films, particularly “Metropolis” and “M,” encapsulate the innovation and artistic ambition of this era. His ability to blend stunning visuals with profound themes is something I find incredibly captivating.
**Interviewer:** “M” is renowned for its exploration of moral complexity, particularly in relation to a child murderer. How does that theme resonate with contemporary audiences, do you think?
**Michael Shook:** I believe ”M” resonates with contemporary audiences because it delves into the dark corners of the human psyche and examines the themes of justice and society’s response to crime. Lang expertly makes us question the nature of evil and the consequences of vigilantism, which are still highly relevant topics today. It leaves viewers with an unsettling feeling, compelling them to reflect on their own beliefs about morality.
**Interviewer:** You’ve mentioned the visual aspects of Lang’s films. How do you think his style influenced later filmmakers?
**Michael Shook:** Lang was a pioneer of visual storytelling. His use of expressionistic cinematography has influenced countless filmmakers, including the likes of Stanley Kubrick and Tim Burton. The way he constructed each shot—not just as a narrative device but as a means of evoking emotion—set a standard for how film could convey deeper psychological and social themes. “M,” with its stark contrasts and haunting atmospheres, is a prime example of this.
**Interviewer:** Which of Lang’s films do you feel deserves more attention today, especially in the context of silent cinema?
**Michael Shook:** While “Metropolis” often gets the credit, I believe “M” deserves more attention for its storytelling and moral depth. It’s a film that presaged the film noir genre and challenged audiences to consider the complexities of its characters. Reviving interest in “M” could spark vital discussions about society, justice, and humanity, much like it did during its original release.
**Interviewer:** With such appreciation for silent films, do you see a future for this genre in current film culture?
**Michael Shook:** I certainly hope so! Silent films hold an undeniable charm, and festivals that showcase these classics can renew interest. While modern audiences may initially find it challenging to engage with silent cinema, I believe that once they do, they’ll recognize the profound artistic merits of those films. Each screening can be an enlightening experience, connecting us with the roots of the medium.
**Interviewer:** Thank you, Michael, for sharing your insights on Fritz Lang and early cinema. It’s clear that your passion for this era is as vibrant as the films themselves.
**Michael Shook:** Thank you! I’m always excited to discuss the magic of early cinema and the way it continues to influence storytelling today.
