The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

Rating:
Summary: There is something frightful in our midst!
Review: Filmed way back in 1921, "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" is perhaps one of the oldest horror films ever made. As a viewer, I see this film as a macabre, magnificent work of art. It was probably intended to be that way, since director Robert Wiene was heavily inspired by the German Expressionist movement. With its skewed and handpainted scenery, crooked angles, looming shadows, and ghostly aura, this feature film is an Edvard Munch painting brought to life. More importantly, its simple yet terrifying plotline helped give birth to early cinematic horror, which would forever place Lon Chaney, Bela Legosi, and Boris Karloff on pedestals.
Here is the synopsis: A young man named Francis (Friedrich Feher) plays the narrator, opening his story at a carnival sideshow that opened in the town of Holstenwall. Francis and his best friend Alan (Hans Heinrich Von Twardowski) attended the show to witness a truly strange attraction: An aging scientist named Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss) unveils to an astounded audience a ghoulish sleepwalker named Cesare (Conrad Veidt), who the Doctor solely commands through the power of hypnotism. Under his control, Cesare awakens from his coffin-like box to prophesise people's fates. When an excited Alan asks Cesare, "How long shall I live?" he grimly utters, "The time is short. You die at dawn!" Meanwhile, the town police investigate a string of bizarre murders. Not surprisingly, Alan would end up becoming the killer's next victim!

Devastated by the sudden loss of his friend, Francis seeks aid from the town police. Together, they find clues linking the cold-blooded killings with Dr. Caligari's priceless freak of nature. In the film's latter half, Francis and the authorities read through the Doctor's notes and discover his most fiendish, insane ambition: The old man gleefully named himself after an 11th century monk who once toured across Northern Italy with a somnanbulist at his side. Dr. Caligari's studies reveal how he recruited poor Cesare from an insane asylum and forced him to commit acts of murder and terrorize innocent people! After the awful truth is exposed, justice prevails as the wicked Doctor is bound in a straitjacket and dragged away. Or is he?
I really love how Conrad Veidt's Cesare character is both terrifying and sympathetic. Although he basically wears a black bodysuit, his figure somehow provides the illusion of inhuman strength, like he was carved out of stone. However, that changes later on when Cesare breaks into the bedroom of Francis's betrothed Jane (Lil Dagover). In a state of torment, he raises the knife over his head and stops himself from stabbing the sleeping woman. In that instance, a viewer can realize that Cesare is only human, and that the Doctor is the true monster. The way actor Werner Krauss portrays him, by the way, is quite marvelous. He's clearly the manipulator of the story; a dangerously clever individual who tries desperately not to get caught. Finally, Friedrich Feher's Francis is a not a typical hero, but rather a traumatized young man seeking the truth; it's obvious that he's overcome with grief and driven almost mad. Did I say almost? As a participant in the movie's main action, Francis is both horrified and curious about the Doctor's motives.
This is a movie I definitely recommend to the openly artistic. The DVD is the perfect gift for Tim Burton fans!

Rating:
Summary: quite fun!
Review: Das Cabinet des Dr. Caligari (Robert Weine, 1920)

It has occurred to me many times over the years since I read my first book about monster movies how Germany dominated world cinema before World War II, and how that's changed since. Depressing. The Germans could do almost as good a job as the Japanese at expressing postwar angst, one thinks. One wonders why the Japanese have a whole industry of extreme horror and the Germans have, well, Jorg Buttgereit.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is widely considered the world's first horror film. It really isn't (both Fritz Lang and Robert Weine were both making horror movies for years before Caligari came out, along with Lang's stable of directors who did the films his fevered brain turned out he didn't have time to direct), but it may be the first still widely available. It's also a masterpiece of expressionist cinema, and really should be seen by all serious students of film.

The story centers around Francis (Friedrich Fehler, who spent much more time behind the camera than before it), who relates the story of his odd past few days to a man he meets while out on a walk. He, his best friend Alan (Hans Heinrich von Twardowski, who made a slew of anti-Hitler films during World War II after leaving Weine's stable), and the woman they both love, Jane (Lil Dagover, one of Germany's most celebrated actresses right up to her 1980 death), encountered an odd sideshow at the town fair. Run by one Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss), it's an exhibition of a somnambulist named Cesare (Conrad Veidt, best known for Casablanca) who has supposedly been asleep for a quarter century, and now can be awakened for short periods by Caligari. The day the fair comes to town, a series of murders begins, and Francis becomes convinced that Caligari is using Cesaire to commit the murders. The truth, however, is far more complex...

Modern viewers who aren't used to silent film will probably be bored, or at least annoyed; depending on which version you get, the background music can be horribly inappropriate for the material, and let's face it, a lot of moviegoers today don't have the patience for subtitles, much less the cards used for dialogue in the silent days. (One longs for someone to do an ambient/gothic soundtrack for this film, as has been done for Metropolis, Nosferatu, and earlier versions of The Phantom of the Opera.) Also, in the silent film days, and especially in expressionist film, facial expressions and gestures are always exaggerated. Caveat viewer, as it were. Those who have gotten used to such things, however (repeated screenings of Shadow of the Vampire should at least give you the idea), will find much to enjoy here.

The main thing to point out is the set design. A thousand-word review cannot even begin to say enough good things about the wonderful sets put together by Herrmann Warm and his colleagues from Die Sturm. Everything in this movie, from the windows to the trees, is completely off-kilter. It's a cubist's worst nightmare; there's not a single right angle to be found anywhere on the set (except, arguably, in Conrad Veidt's lower jaw). The acting gives enough that Weine cold keep the between-scene cards to a minimum and the average Joe can still figure out what's going on, so the film's sixty-seven minutes are far more action than words. Weine weaves together subplot after subplot, and while he could be charged with initiating the idea that love triangles cannot end well in film, it works in the context here.

Yes, there is a great deal to like about The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. It's not as chilling as Nosferatu, but it's certainly capable of grabbing hold and not letting go. *** ½

Rating:
Summary: Recommended!
Review: I just saw Caligari. I thoroughly recommend it!

Timothy Brock's score is the best score for a silent movie i've heard so far! Its such an authentic orchestral accompaniment that you can actually hear the breathing of the string players! Truly wonderful compared to the old organ or set classical or jazz music pieces which run alongside the movie instead of help tell its story.

And what an incredible movie. One of my favourite silents so far! An eye-opening experience. If you haven't seen much silent cinema, you'll be shocked at how involving a silent can be. Caligari takes you to another place. The world of Caligari has a feel all its own, where houses are wonky, doorways triangular, people ghoulish, and everything like something out of a nightmare. One of the best pieces of what they call german expressionism. See it!

Rating:
Summary: Spooky & Entertaining Expressionist Masterpiece
Review: In the little German town of Holstenwall, performers have come from far and wide to set up exhibitions at the town's fair. Among them is a man named Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss) who has brought a Somnambulist named Cesare (Conrad Veidt) to entertain the townsfolk. Cesare has slept for 23 years and, through his morbid trance, has acquired knowledge of the past and future. But shortly after Dr. Caligari and Cesare arrive, a series of grisly murders take place in the town. Francis (Friedrich Feher), whose best friend was a victim, vows to track down the person responsible for these hideous crimes.

"The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" is a stunning example of both German expressionism and effective commercial entertainment. Directed by Robert Wiene in 1919, with extraordinary expressionist set design by Hermann Warm and a haunting modern musical score by Timothy Brock, "Caligari" is no less sophisticated in its themes or story-telling technique than modern films. In fact, it reminds me a lot of Alfred Hitchcock's work, in particular his television program. Oddly, the film isn't black-and-white. It's color -or "colored" actually. The film is toned. Scenes that take place at night have a bluish cast. Daytime -or indoor light- has a sepia tone. And a few scenes are actually purple, which I assume was intended to communicate a melancholy mood. (The film was originally hand-tinted, but later prints may not have been. The Image Entertainment DVD is tinted, but I don't know if the other DVD versions are.) The blue and purple casts are interesting, but seem garish at times. Most of the scenes are sepia, which is pleasing to the eye and gives the film a warmth that wouldn't be possible in neutral black&white. The story is told in flashback, and there are flashbacks inside of that one. I was surprised to see real visual effects in such an antique film. And there is a surprise ending no less startling than the ending of M. Night Shyamalan's "The Sixth Sense". In fact, the film's blurring of the boundaries between reality and fantasy, sanity and insanity, can be pretty unsettling. This is a rare horror film that succeeds in creating a true sense of horror at least once. "Caligari"'s fanciful expressionist sets are absolutely fabulous. The sets alone would make the film worth watching. Add great writing and technique, and "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" is a wonderfully entertaining example of early cinema that really stands the test of time. Highly recommended. Intertitles are in English only.

The DVD (This refers to the Image Entertainment DVD only.): This is one of those DVDs that starts to play the film as soon as you put the disc into the machine, so be quick on the remote. Bonus features include excerpts from a film called "Genuine: A Tale of a Vampire", which director Robert Wiene made in 1920, and a excellent audio commentary by film historian Mike Budd. I highly recommend the commentary, but don't be tempted to listen to it the first time you view the film. The film suffers without its musical score, and the audio commentary gives away the ending early in the film. It's very worthwhile on your second viewing, though. Mike Budd talks about the artistry of "Caligari" as well as the state of commercial film and expressionist art in Germany at the time. The film's speed is correct on this DVD, but the condition of the print leaves something to be desired. There is noticeable white noise (scratches) in much of the film, and there is a conspicuous dark band across the top of the screen in many of the scenes. Maybe the film was originally like that. This print certainly is. It would be nice if it were cleaned up. These flaws don't detract too much from the enjoyment of the film, but that dark band is especially obtrusive. On the other hand, I appreciate that this DVD was made from a print which has the original color tinting.

Rating:
Summary: There is something frightful in our midst!
Review: Filmed way back in 1921, "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" is perhaps one of the oldest horror films ever made. As a viewer, I see this film as a macabre, magnificent work of art. It was probably intended to be that way, since director Robert Wiene was heavily inspired by the German Expressionist movement. With its skewed and handpainted scenery, crooked angles, looming shadows, and ghostly aura, this feature film is an Edvard Munch painting brought to life. More importantly, its simple yet terrifying plotline helped give birth to early cinematic horror, which would forever place Lon Chaney, Bela Legosi, and Boris Karloff on pedestals.
Here is the synopsis: A young man named Francis (Friedrich Feher) plays the narrator, opening his story at a carnival sideshow that opened in the town of Holstenwall. Francis and his best friend Alan (Hans Heinrich Von Twardowski) attended the show to witness a truly strange attraction: An aging scientist named Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss) unveils to an astounded audience a ghoulish sleepwalker named Cesare (Conrad Veidt), who the Doctor solely commands through the power of hypnotism. Under his control, Cesare awakens from his coffin-like box to prophesise people's fates. When an excited Alan asks Cesare, "How long shall I live?" he grimly utters, "The time is short. You die at dawn!" Meanwhile, the town police investigate a string of bizarre murders. Not surprisingly, Alan would end up becoming the killer's next victim!

Devastated by the sudden loss of his friend, Francis seeks aid from the town police. Together, they find clues linking the cold-blooded killings with Dr. Caligari's priceless freak of nature. In the film's latter half, Francis and the authorities read through the Doctor's notes and discover his most fiendish, insane ambition: The old man gleefully named himself after an 11th century monk who once toured across Northern Italy with a somnanbulist at his side. Dr. Caligari's studies reveal how he recruited poor Cesare from an insane asylum and forced him to commit acts of murder and terrorize innocent people! After the awful truth is exposed, justice prevails as the wicked Doctor is bound in a straitjacket and dragged away. Or is he?
I really love how Conrad Veidt's Cesare character is both terrifying and sympathetic. Although he basically wears a black bodysuit, his figure somehow provides the illusion of inhuman strength, like he was carved out of stone. However, that changes later on when Cesare breaks into the bedroom of Francis's betrothed Jane (Lil Dagover). In a state of torment, he raises the knife over his head and stops himself from stabbing the sleeping woman. In that instance, a viewer can realize that Cesare is only human, and that the Doctor is the true monster. The way actor Werner Krauss portrays him, by the way, is quite marvelous. He's clearly the manipulator of the story; a dangerously clever individual who tries desperately not to get caught. Finally, Friedrich Feher's Francis is a not a typical hero, but rather a traumatized young man seeking the truth; it's obvious that he's overcome with grief and driven almost mad. Did I say almost? As a participant in the movie's main action, Francis is both horrified and curious about the Doctor's motives.
This is a movie I definitely recommend to the openly artistic. The DVD is the perfect gift for Tim Burton fans!

Rating:
Summary: Pure Art
Review: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is very original. Then again, it was in 1919; it has to be original. From what I read in reviews of other versions, this one is slightly different. Whatever the difference is, I don't care because this one is possibly the greatest film ever made. It is also, in my opinion, the first ever zombie movie. Even though Cesare is technically a somnambulist, he is still under control of Dr. Caligari and is made to murder...sounds like a zombie to me. Basic, non-spoiling plot: Two men are in love with one girl. One man is murdered as predicted by a somnambulist at a side show at the Fair with Dr. Caligari. It turns out that it was Cesare (the somnambulist), after he kidnapped the woman that the two men were in love with. Cesare has a heart attack (looks like it any way), falls to the bottom of the hill he has climbed carrying the woman, and dies. Sounds like a simple, boring story, right? WRONG. The last 10 to 15 minutes of the film really catches you. It turns out it is not just a dramatizing film of murder, yet a complete twist of insanity. Good luck finding this original 1919 silent movie at a store for rental. By this baby through Amazon. It's very cheap, and suprisingly enough---it actually has special features(not many, but they're there)! This movie is highly original, extremely creative, mind-bending, and over-the-top weird with sets of swirly walls and odd doors. Not to mention the make-up. Beautiful movie. Buy it. Enough said.

Rating:
Summary: Caligari still rules!
Review: I don't know why this film is criticised for its storyline. Maybe it is because of the persistent (but only possibly true) rumours that the "twist" at the end is the result of political pressures; or that it is a cop-out.
I think "The Cabine t of Doctor Caligari" has been underrated. The plot of the film is no less amazing than the distorted sets for which it is famous. No matter where the final twist came from, it somehow fits perfectly into the fabric of the film, making it a journey into the ultimate "cabine t", the mind of a madman.
This disc (which is the same as the Force Videos/Eureka disc available in Australia" is definitely worth the money. Reviewers who criticise this disc are often ignorant of the condition of the negative for this film. Yes, there is "supposed" to be a black line across the top of the screen; it was on the original negative (thank the original German company which screwed up when trying to find out where the top of the frame should end). Yes, there was tinting on the original film (most silent films had tinting; this restoration of the print is based on a tinted negative).
There is, in fact, much to recommend about this restoration. The image, for a film that is eighty-five years old, is magnificent. The frame rate (a perilously low 16 frames per second) has been maintained; which, given my recent irritation with Abel Gance's "Napoleon", is a real bonus.
The soundtrack, by a certain Mr Brock, is about the best soundtrack for a silent film that I have heard. The string music in the expressionist-serialist style of Schoeberg and other composers of the period, drips with suitably expressionistic atmosphere.
The alternative sountrack is a pretty good (though often dry) commentary by a film scholar. It is very interesting to hear his comments; such as, for instance, recent evidence casting doubt on the original oft-told story about why there is a twist at the end.
On the extras there are some (startlingly modern) original advertising posters from America in 1920-1. Film advertising hasn't changed much - these posters, with some modifications, could have been used to promote "Crouching Tiger", for instance.
There are also photos of the original cinema where the film had its premiere - again, startlingly modern; I didn't know cinemas back then could be so plush.
If I had anything bad to say about this disc, it would be that the intertitles, even though they are based on the original intertitles in German, are almost unbearably ugly. That, and the fact that the cover art in the Australian release is also unbearably ugly, with a typesetting error on the back...

I heartily recommend this disc for anyone with even a passing interest in silent film or expressionism.

Rating:
Summary: The classic German Expressionist horror film of 1919
Review: When we talk about the history of the "movies" it is "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" ("Das Kabinett des Doktor Caligari") that has almost always represented the first prime example of the "cinema," where we treat films as art. This is the best example of German Expressionism with angular sets and exaggerated performances by the actors that represented the dementia of the title character. Werner Krauss is the mad doctor, who uses his somnambulist Ceasar (Conrad Veidt) from his carnival sideshow to do his evil deeds, with Lil Dagover is the damsel in distress. The film is framed by a rather clever plot device that turns the narrative upside down in the end, as a young man (Friedrich Feher) tells the story of Dr. Caligari's visit to the small German town of Holstenwall to an older one, as they sit together on a park bench. There is also a strong sense of how the film serves as a metaphor for the destruction of post-war Germany.

Whatever the films shortcomings, the classic status of this 1919 film directed by Robert Wiene is assured by the striking art direction. The abstract, expressionists designs provide severely angled corners, crooked lines, and objects highlighted by decorative stripes. If "Then Battleship Potemkin" opens us up as students of cinema to the possibilities about montage, then "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" does the same for mise-en-scene. The film also establishes many of the conventions of the horror film (e.g., the mad scientist, beauty and the beast), although, surprisingly enough, the basic storyline has never been remade.

Rating:
Summary: An "Expressive" Horror Classic
Review: A young man, Francis, relates to others this bizarre and amazing tale: Francis and his friend, Alan, visit a fair that happens to be in a small German town where some brutal murders have taken place. Dr. Caligari is the proprietor of an exhibit that features a chronic sleepwalker named Cesare who supposedly can make accurate prognostications. Francis and Alan are amused by this particular spectacle, but when they ask for a demonstration, they are a bit unnerved when Cesare predicts that Alan will be dead by morning.

When Alan is, in fact, murdered during the night, Francis suspects that Caligari and Cesare were involved in making Cesare's "prediction" come true, and he goes to the police with his suspicions. Unfortunately, the police have arrested another man for Alan's murder, and they give Francis the brush-off. Undeterred, Francis follows Caligari in hopes of obtaining proof of his suspicions. When they ultimately wind up at an insane asylum, Francis is shocked to learn that Caligari is the director of the institution. But with the help of Francis, it is soon revealed that Caligari has himself gone mad, and the good Doctor is subsequently hospitalized in his own institution. Or is he?...

THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1920; 1921 for the U.S. version) is one of the masterpieces of the silent era and, along with Fritz Lang's METROPOLIS (1927), is one of the best examples of German Expressionist cinema. Though the story is entertaining, the real genius lies not so much in the narrative as in the bizarre and surrealistic mise-en-scène. The sets do not reflect nature or reality but are instead highly stylized--using an expressionist form that reflects both cubist and fauvist influence--and are meant to project to the audience the psychological discordance of Caligari and other characters in the film. And the physical appearance of the characters, especially the principals, are also expressionistic exaggerations, making them more caricatures than characters and serving to heighten the sense of uneasiness and mental disharmony. So to put it succinctly, the film conveys its underlying theme of ubiquitous psychosis as much through visuals as through narrative--an especially good quality in the era of silent films--and this fact elevates it above mere entertainment to the summit of high art.

Any film student, cinema aficionado, or collector of old classics will definitely want to add this movie to their collections. But some contemporary viewers may find it difficult to appreciate THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI. Indeed, in this age of color "talkies," it is sometimes hard for even ardent film students and aficionados to catch all of the nuances in the narrative and visuals of a silent film, and sometimes two or more viewings may therefore be required. The wonderful collector's edition DVD from Image Entertainment offers a feature commentary by film historian Mike Budd, and a SECOND viewing with this commentary turned on will certainly help to clarify some of the more subtle aspects of this historical film. (For the first time through, don't watch the film with the commentary, as Mr. Budd does early on reveal some facts about the ending.)

Rating:
Summary: Essential
Review: If you have not seen the movie, you should. If you are casting around between the various prints and versions available on DVD or video, the KINO DVD (available separately or in a boxed set with equally definitive versions of THE GOLEM, NOSFERATU and WAXORKS) is easily the best. 'Nuff said!