Waste of time

one of my absolute favorites!

One of those movie experiences that is so good it makes you realize you've been grading everything else on a curve.

There are moments in this movie where the great movie it could've been peek out... They're fleeting, here, but they're worth savoring, and they happen often enough to make it worth your while.

My review for the Kino-Lorber DVD of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari: It would be a gross understatement to say the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is one of the most influential films ever made. But it doesn't seem that way. Unlike something like John Carpenter's Halloween which has been ripped off so many times that one feels like they've already seen it upon first viewing, Caligari has a disturbing originality about it. Comparisons to Tim Burton or Rob Zombie music videos are fair, but they don't quite do justice to how extremely cracked the world view in Caligari is. Every object, whether it is a door or a building or a chair, is in fun house mirror mode with contours sharper than the finest blade. The actors are painted up to the point of vulgarity: check the title character's Bugs Bunny gloves or Conrad Veidt, who sports a look one would expect at a Nine Inch Nails or My Chemical Romance concert, not in a film made almost a hundred years ago. This is the kind of live action cartoon look that would, in our day and age, totally tank any chance of being taken serious, engaging an audience, or sharing a very real point. But it does. For some reason, all the art department hijinks work with the dramatic story not against it. Which might be why this film is remembered as both an important milestone in the development of both art house fair and escapist entertainment pieces: its relevance as the first German expressionist film and its intellectual depth are well known but equally important is its role as a pioneer horror film; bringing all the Gothic shadows, psychological terror, and even giving birth to the famous "twist" ending. All have become staples of the genre. If you doubt the role Caligari plays in development of the horror film, just look for images of Cesare carrying our unconscious heroine and compare back to Dracula, The Wolfman, the Swampthing, whatever. Its one of the most recognizable clichés in the genre. But on the other side of the spectrum, it is a brilliantly made film that many people see as the beginning of the era of German dominated cinema: within the next 7 years Germany would see Nosferatu, Metropolis, The Golem, the Last Laugh, Dr. Mabuse the Gambler, Genuine, etc. All pretty well put the foreign competition to shame. In fact if it weren't for the rise of Nazism, who knows how far Germany's hold on the cinema could have gone? The Cabinet of Dr. Calagari is public domain I believe and as such there a lot of versions floating around of varying quality. The Kino Classics DVD is the 4th version I have seen and I must say it far and away the best. I am very impressed by the numerous steps taken to smooth out the jump cuts, flickering lights, and various other damages to produce the best version possible. The textures on the sets and detail in the art have never been clearer and its presented in the color tinted style originally intended. In addition there are several special features of high quality, including an additional score, an image gallery, two featurettes detailing the before mentioned film restoration, and an excellent German documentary of the history of expressionism and how Germany went from the seat of modern art and culture to the tyranny of Hitler and how Caligari more or less predicted this would happen. Although I miss the audio commentary from the Image Entertainment release, this edition scores higher marksin every other category. And unlike much of Kino's releases, its reasonably priced and easy to find. A must own.

As a young adult, most would be surprised that I watch classic films. Since it is October, I decided to check out The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, a film I had heard much about while researching classic horror. Many consider this to be the first true horror film, and its influence can be seen in films like Frankenstein (1931).This genre-influencer is about a carnival trickster named Caligari who shows off a somnambulist (sleepwalker) named Cesare at a fair one day, and magically wakes him up. Creepily portrayed by Werner Krauss, the doctor seems to know nothing about a series of murders that suspiciously occur in the town while he is there. Mystery ensues as the protagonists (whose names I can't remember even though I watched this less than 30 min ago) try to figure out who Caligari really is.Being familiar with silent movies, I was prepared for a bit of slowness. This is usually something I can deal with, but I did not like how slowly the intertitles scrolled and how long the takes lasted. The pace was uneven a bit because of this. I found the plot very predictable, especially the fact that Cesare is the murderer, because the shadow in the wall during the murder scene is clearly him. The filmmakers try to fool us by having our heroes arrest an actual murderer, but to me it was an obvious red herring. However, the twist ending (which I will not spoil here) genuinely surprised me and left me glad to have finished watching the film.The sets in this film rely on the German expressionist art movement. They are a bit jarring to look at at first, and are noticeably fake, but I got used to seeing them as the film progressed.The performances by Krauss and a young Conrad Veidt (whom you may remember from Casablanca) are very good. The main character is also good, though I forget his name.Overall, there are better silent horror flicks out there. I would recommend Nosferatu (1922) or The Phantom of the Opera (1925) rather than this film, especially Nosferatu, which is still chilling to watch. Caligari, I feel, has lost a bit of its remarkability in the 96 years since its release, probably because it influenced many other classic horror motifs and tropes which appeared in films like the Universal Monster movies, of which I have been a longtime fan. People who may watch this film will come across elements that are now cliché. Only watch this one if you really want to; the ending makes it worth viewing for horror buffs, but be prepared for a slow ride towards it.

Probably the best silent film I have ever seen, Caligari has a clear emphasis on German Expressionism while also being a methodically psychological horror film about the supernatural and the surreal imagination of the insane. Silent films started off as filmed plays, and in that vein this film constructed all its sets by hand, painting them in odd patterns, and showing interesting angles and vacant shots of this small village. Besides the interesting set design for the walls and floors, the stairs and windows were strange as well. The slanting light (possibly natural) barely illuminated the creeping corners and morose faces of the townspeople. The town itself is romanticized in the loose culture of the times, being small and simple, without the benefits of electricity or modern technology. Much of this was candlelit which lent to an atmosphere where monsters and creepy crawlies could be behind the next wall just waiting to murder you. Not such a stretch since a string of murders mysteriously starts after the appearance of the gypsy centric fair and a tent advertising a coma creep controlled by a large eye browsed crone named Dr. Caligari. The somnambulist, or coma patient, is a vampiric man who lays within a box and predicts the future based on some unnamed psychic abilities. The look of it and the intricate storyline lends to a very creepy vibe. The characters all express their emotions in a wide and over dramatic way, as this is a German Expressionist film. Everything is bigger, darker, more hurried and vague, and you never quite know who the villain is. Beside that you are always theorizing whether there is any true magic, or it's medicine, or frankly a dream of an insane person. Nothing is ever clear or true, and that leads to feeling unsettled and uneasy over what is on the screen. True, it's silent, and true the characters are at times bland, but it's the storytelling and the fact that it's a horror film that keeps the suspense and the intensity alive. It's a horror film that will have staying power through the decades to come.

Between the varying and conflicting production testimonies of its many players, the endless bizarre legends and anecdotes serving as catalysts for various design and creative choices; between all this there is a small, independent, seminal art-house movie that premiered in 1920 to resounding accolades, praise and most importantly for all involved, money. It was a success that surprised most of the people involved, but looking back at Caligari almost a century forward, it's easy to see how the film was at first universally adopted as revolutionary, and then analysed to death by scholars over the coming decades to the point where the actual film—that is, as a work of interpretive art and not something that desperately requires classification and resolute distinction in terms of motivations, political ideology, historical placement, influence and social stature —is often overshadowed by its lasting legacy as something more than just that.Rather than drive myself to madness attempting to unwrap the mystery of Janowitz, Mayer and Wiene's unending battle of dispute over who did what and why and where, I instead prefer to see Cabinet for what it is; a deceptively straight-forward murder-mystery that exists in a world of irregular angles and avant-garde design. And I'm not just referring to the movie's expressionist scenery which is, of course, what makes the most immediate impression on a first viewing. I'm also alluding to the twisted, dream-like state in which the characters move within their world, almost as if they were one in the same. You could argue, in fact, that they are cut from the same piece of cloth that never wants to settle down in a neat little arrangement until you wish to make use of it. Instead, both the characters and the world in Caligari demand your immediate attention from the very beginning and in a strange way it's hard to draw your attention elsewhere, even if everything does seem a bit otherworldly, strange and abstract.If you're looking for some sort of synopsis from this review, then best leave now. It's a relatively simple affair as I pointed out before, but even then there are many differing interpretations. My own is not in fact my own. Others share it, and it's relevant to us as individuals who see the movie the way we do, but the details of such a view aren't important to you as someone who—potentially—hasn't seen the film yet. Anyone else who has already seen it, more than likely already knows, or doesn't care. What is important, is simply the distinction that exists between Caligari and many films that came before it. It's open-ended, open to debate and, once more, refuses to be consolidated merely to straight, perpendicular angles with only one logical conclusion. This aspect, along with the overall style, atmosphere and artistic merit of the feature is what makes it special. On paper, it's nothing special, and by no means do I loft it as highly as other film historians, scholars or enthusiasts. Let me be clear. I'm not one to automatically prescribe "genius" to trailblazing films ahead of their time for that fact alone. Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a great film, and an extremely important and influential one for sure. But it's not the pinnacle of the movement it begins. It's not perfect, and no, I don't believe it to be a masterpiece. Masterpieces are timeless, and while it's very easy to watch and enjoy Caligari a century on, it's still mostly important because of the time in which it was produced. Again, it's a simple affair. Simple, but extremely effective. So much so that it caused a cinematic revolution, the echoes of which we still hear today.