Fritz Lang’s Tiger of Eschnapur

It was Fritz Lang’s triumphant return to German cinema, but much of the filming happened in India. In a way, that was fitting, since German expat filmmaker helped jump-start the India film industry with silent films such as A Throw of Dice and Shiraz. In this case, Lang was also returning to the source novel written by his infamous/celebrated wife, Thea von Harbou that he developed for the screen in 1921, before the studio handed the project over to another director. He would need two films to complete his unfinished business, neither of which has been released theatrically in America in their original uncut form, until now. Separate admissions will be required when Lang’s restored The Tiger of Eschnapur and The Indian Tomb open today in New York.

Fortunately, everyone in India speaks perfect German, so Harald Berger has no trouble getting around. The architect has come to Eschnapur at the behest of Maharaja Chandra to build schools and hospitals. On his way to the palace, Berger saves Seetha, a bi-racial temple dancer from a hungry tiger. The Maharaja had also summoned Seetha to perform ritual dances that are just slightly risqué than what you might find in Showgirls. (These bits were largely carved out when both films were cobbled together for its prior problematic American release as Journey to the Lost City).

Of course, Berger and Seetha fall in love with each other and just as naturally, the Maharaja falls hard for her and seethes with jealousy when he discovers their secret romance. The resulting intrigue does not bode well for the construction of Eschnapur’s surely needed schools and hospitals.

The entire cast is German, except for American Debra Paget, so there is no getting around the problematic “brown-face” makeup. However, the scenery looks authentic, because much of the film was shot in India, including the stunningly cinematic City Palace, Udaipur, where select scenes for Octopussy were also later filmed. Paget’s wardrobe and choreography for Seetha is also what you might describe as “eye-catching.”

Fritz Lang’s The Indian Tomb

The previous film in Fritz Lang’s so-called “Indian Epic” ends with both a cliffhanger and a spoiler. We are told flat out that the two star-crossed lovers will indeed be saved, even though their chances of survival were looking pretty paltry. Yet, it will turn out to be a case of out of the frying pan and into the fire for Seetha the temple dancer and Harald Berger, the German architect, in Lang’s The Indian Tomb, the second part of his Indian Epic, which opens today at Film Forum, in conjunction with, but separately from part 1, The Tiger of Eschnapur.

Previously on Fritz Lang’s Indian Epic, Seetha and Berger tried to escape the Maharaja’s clutches, but didn’t flee far enough. Soon Seetha will be forced back into the Maharaja’s gilded cage, while Berger will be secretly held captive by the lovelorn despot’s envious brother, Prince Ramigani, for his own scheming purposes. Unbeknownst to Chandra, there is a pitched power struggle going on behind the scenes and nearly all the players have lined up behind Ramigani, with only the influential General Dagh remaining loyal to the Maharaja.

There was a lot of scene-setting and expositional set-up in Tiger, so it is quite impressive how Lang, the old master, manages to keep it felling snappy. In contrast, Indian Tomb revels in all the resulting intrigue. We are talking about secret passages and shadowy cabals here. Yet, the lush scenery and Debra Paget’s sexually charged dance numbers remain the greatest attractions. In fact, Indian Tomb boasts the infamous/celebrated “snake dance.”

Fantasia ’17: Fritz Lang

It was one of the first films to be “ripped from the headlines.” Although, the great auteur sometimes denied it, his classic M was transparently inspired by the case of Peter Kürten, “The Vampire of Düsseldorf,” premiering in theaters two months before his execution. Gordian Maugg offers up some wild speculation as to why the case so fascinated the filmmaker in the fictionalized Fritz Lang (trailer here), which screens during the 2017 Fantasia International Film Festival.

It would be the film that forever changed Peter Lorre’s life. It was also highly significant for Lang as his first sound film. While the Kürten case started out as grist for the new screenplay Lang has been unable to start, Maugg and co-screenwriter Alexander Häusser suggest other reasons the case hit so close to home for the filmmaker. Perhaps most obviously, Anna Cohn, a witness who last saw her murdered friend presumably in the company of the killer, happens to be a dead-ringer for his late first wife Lisa. The Düsseldorf police chief also happens to be an old acquaintance.

Maugg flashes forwards and backwards, showing us scenes from Lang’s WWI service, his convalescence, during which time, he meets and falls in love with his future first wife, his affair with eventual second wife and great co-writer Thea von Harbou, and his current position as the monocled-king of Weimar high society. Yet, the Kürten murders bring out his dark side. Suddenly, he too is stalking witnesses and revisiting crime scenes. Indeed, Lang might just understand Kürten too uncomfortably well.

It is devilishly difficult to portray Fritz Lang on-screen when the director roguishly played himself with so much dash and verve in Jean-Luc Godard’s Contempt. That subversively witty persona is the Lang we will always want to see, which puts Heino Ferch’s brooding, traumatized Lang at an enormous disadvantage. To be fair, he does some good work reinterpreting the director as a real-life film noir character, but the “real,” reinvented Lang is way more fun. Frankly, Jack Palance’s character in Contempt, the crass Jeremy Prokosch, would probably be the only one who would enjoy seeing Lang depicted in such an unflattering manner.

Frankly, Harbou does not get much better treatment from Johanna Gastdorf (cold-blooded and highly calculating). However, Samuel Finzi would do Peter Lorre proud as the profoundly damaged, Dostoyevskyan Kürten. Lisa Friederich also deserves credit for valiantly laboring to humanize the film as the acutely human Lisa Lang and Anna Cohn.

During the second act, Fritz Lang the movie really seems to be getting someplace as it capitalizes on the intrigue of the doppelganger motif and the suspense of the investigation. However, the pop psychology of the third act is not worthy of its subject. Stylistically, the incorporation of 1930 archival film and newsreel footage, ironically heightens the feeling of unreality, giving it a Guy Maddinesque vibe, which might be the most effective aspect of the film. Earning a conflicted response, Fritz Lang ultimately disappoints when it screens tonight (7/28), during this year’s Fantasia.

A Masterpiece Restored: Metropolis

Predating George Orwell’s 1984, Fritz Lang’s silent classic Metropolis largely created the themes and visual motifs of dystopian social science fiction. Reportedly, it was a major reason why Hitler and Goebbals offered to make Lang an honorary Aryan and place him in charge of the Reich’s film division, at least according to the director’s accounts. In response, he immigrated to America by way of Paris, not returning to his native Germany until the late 1950’s.

While universally recognized as one of the most significant films in cinema history, for years the only known prints of Metropolis were so severely edited narrative clarity was greatly compromised. Though a supposedly definitive restoration in 2002 represented a considerable improvement, the discovery in Buenos Aires of a badly deteriorating print that reflected nearly exactly Lang’s original shooting script electrified both film scholars and science fiction fans alike. Painstakingly restored with twenty-five minutes of essentially new footage, the truly complete and definitive Metropolis opens this Friday in New York at the Film Forum.

In Metropolis, the wealthy idly live high in the city’s imposing towers. The poor toil below the surface as virtual slaves. However, their hopes are kindled by the evangelical Maria, who prophesizes the coming of a “Mediator” to intercede with the ruling class on behalf of the workers. Perhaps that man is Freder Frederson, the son of Joh Frederson, the industrialist-master of the near future city.

When Frederson the younger first spies Maria, she crashes his luxurious private club with a group of children, hoping to shock the pampered wastrels out of their complacency. In his case, it works. Following her down to subterranean machine rooms, Frederson exchanges places with a worker, experiencing their dehumanizing labor first-hand. While Joh Frederson falls in love with Maria, his father recognizes her as a threat to his authority, enlisting Rotwang, a somewhat mad scientist, in his plot against her.

Metropolis’s familiar scene of Rotwang’s metallic android transforming into Maria’s doppelganger has become one of most enduring, archetypal images in cinema history. Indeed, Metropolis created the template for every nefarious android-double to come. Yet, the film is much more, incorporating apocalyptic Christian themes and explicit class warfare. Frankly, there is reason for everyone to be concerned about the future when watching the film. Still, any viewer that does not appreciate its power would have to be a knuckle-dragging prole.

In retrospect, the talent collaborating with Lang on the film could only be assembled at that particular time and place. Cinematographer Karl Freund and set designer Edgar G. Ulmer would eventually distinguish themselves in America, directing classic Universal horror movies. Though Lang and his second wife Thea Von Harbou co-wrote many screenplays before Hitler’s ascension to power, her ardent National Socialism drove a wedge between them, ultimately leading to their divorce.

The results are clearly evident on film, even in the restored but hardly pristine rediscovered scenes. The city’s bizarre amalgamation of Art Deco and Gothic design elements is really unlike anything created on-screen since. Freund’s black-and-white cinematography viscerally captures the fever dreams and ecstatic visions of its surprisingly mystical story. Epic in scope, Lang effectively stage-managed several ambitious large scale riot scenes amid the film’s enormous futuristic set pieces. With the restored scenes and newly translated inter-titles, it all makes sense as well, aside from a dubious motivation here and there.

Always considered a masterwork, the restored Metropolis can now be appreciated as a legitimate masterpiece. If audiences have not yet seen the film, the definitive restoration is a perfect opportunity to see it for the first time. A true cinematic event, the complete Metropolis opens this Friday (5/7) at Film Forum.