Director: Robert Wiene
Cast: Conrad Veidt, Werner Krauss, Lil Dagover, Friedrich Feher
Screenplay: Carl Mayer, Hans Janowitz
67 mins. Not Rated.

Every horror fan has a few blind spots. No one has seen every great horror film, but we try our best to catch as many as possible to increase our horror cultural significance. One of my more notable blind spots was, until recently, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Thankfully, that’s now been rectified, and I’m thankful that the hype was certainly warranted.

Francis (Friedrich Feher, The Knight of the Rose) recounts the story of a most horrifying past event in which he encountered the strange Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss, Tartuffe), a hypnotist who uses a somnambulist, Cesare (Conrad Veidt, Casablanca), to commit murders. When his friend Alan dies under mysterious circumstances that may be linked to Caligari, Francis becomes determined to stop him.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is an absolute classic of the genre and one of the most important films ever made, especially for the world of horror. I don’t think I’m all that clever for saying it, but it’s true. Directed by Robert Wiene (The Hands of Orlac), the film is a perfect example of landmark horror, influencing thousands of films over the year, both in and out of genre, and somehow still being impressive even when seeing it after all the films inspired by it.

Like any classic film, multiple sources have claimed to be responsible for the most iconic elements, but it seems like the initial kernel of an idea came from co-writer Hans Janowitz seeing a mysterious man at a carnival and then hearing about a murder that took place at that same carnival around the time of his sighting. It’s a simple idea, as most that start out, but Janowitz and Carl Mayer (who reportedly feigned madness to avoid military service) were able to conjure up a rather interesting screenplay using it to create their fever dream. Another hotly debated argument comes from the intention of the screenplay, with some reporting that the film always had an anti-authority bend to it while others saying that wasn’t the intention.

Multiple people have come forward to claim responsibility for the framing story, but it almost certainly wasn’t Janowitz or Mayer, who reportedly did not know about it until a major screening of the finished film, far too late to have their distaste for it heard. They felt that the framing story, wherein Francis recounts his adventure to an elderly gentleman in a park, reversed a number of their ideas and plans, something I would vehemently disagree with. While the framing story certainly unravels a number of plot points, I find that its twist doesn’t reverse the intentions, but merely changes the lens we view it through. Also, the framing story helps to make the film as memorable as it is, and it’s a large part of the reason why I loved it so much. For the longest time, it was very difficult to know what the script even looked like as it was considered lost, only uncovered years after the death of Werner Krauss, where it was discovered that the film actually had a different framing story entirely, one less impactful and less necessary in the grand scheme of the film.

Wiene’s film was a rarity in that it was entirely studio-shot. I’ve seen recreations of the studio located at Deutsche Kinemathek in Berlin, and it’s amazing how they were able to fit so many locations into a single place. Wiene also utilized his amazing production design team consisting of Hermann Warm, Walter Reimann, and Walter Rohrig, who came up with the German Expressionism visual aesthetic used in the film. Their design actually works best within the confines of the framing story, allowing a certain unusual unreality, like a fable, all through the lens of Francis, our storyteller. The design team used paper shadows and painted shadows onto the set because electricity was rationed at the time.

The most notable performances in the film belong to Conrad Veidt and Werner Krauss. For his part, Veidt is a very visual portrayal of Cesare, one that exists mostly within his body language and eyes. Krauss has to play Caligari with the sense of mystery surrounding him, as we’re not meant to know too much about it until the film’s shocking conclusion.

I go on forever talking the fascinating behind-the-scenes details of Caligari, but I have a colleague who’s working on something that would put my analysis to shame, so I’ll just share that with you when able. Suffice it to say, Caligari is an incredibly influential little horror tale that works due to a strong collaboration between great minds and a few lucky coincidences that added much to its allure. Hey, it’s Nicolas Cage’s favorite film, so it’s in good company (with Paddington 2, of course). For myself, I can only say that after one viewing, I’m very excited to see it again, see how my experience evolves with this classic.

4/5
-Kyle A. Goethe