3.2 Caligari and Nosferatu

Undoubtedly one of the most iconic and influential films of all time, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) is justly famed for the skewed, anxiety-inducing angles of its painted backdrops, and for the nightmarish tension of its macabre storyline, in which Francis (Friedrich Feher) attempts to solve a series of murders that he suspects to be the work of an insane carnival hypnotist, Dr Caligari (Werner Krauss), and his somnambulist sideshow attraction, Cesare (Conrad Veidt).

The film has often been read as an allegorical response to the First World War, with Cesare representing the innocent soldiers who were driven to murder under the instructions of an abusive authoritarian government (represented by Caligari), though the film’s unsympathetic portrayal of all its figures of authority, including the ineffective police and rude town clerk, perhaps points towards a wider, less specific social critique of the postwar world.

Something of an anomaly within Expressionist cinema, Nosferatu (1922) makes extensive use of real-world locations, rather than recreating its world solely within a studio. As such, it harks back to Expressionism’s roots in German Romanticism, and there is a lyrical, pastoral beauty to its early scenes. But, as the film progresses, the images become increasingly tinged with dread, and F.W. Murnau makes the familiar seem strange, imbuing his real-life locations with eerie Expressionist touches and slowly moving us from reality to nightmare.

An unauthorized adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, Nosferatu relocates the novel’s action from 1890s London to 1830s Germany, and transforms the eponymous vampire into a rat-toothed embodiment of a preternatural force that symbolizes the inevitability and inescapability of death. Stoker’s widow sued over the unlawful use of the text, and the courts decreed that all prints of the film should be destroyed – but, thankfully, copies had already spread far and wide, and the film survived its attempted annihilation. - Source BFI

THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1920)

In the book The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari: Expressionism and Cinema, Anton Kaes wrote, “The style of German Expressionism allowed the filmmakers to experiment with filmic technology and special effects and to explore the twisted realm of repressed desires, unconscious fears, and deranged fixations.”

Much of Caligari’s sense of fear and unrest comes from its distorted scenery and visual oddity. It remains effective to this day, and at the time was beyond what anyone had ever seen before.

As Turner Classic Movies (Links to an external site.) notes, “While many movies during this time tended toward documentary-like objectivism, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari showed that a film could portray the subjective as well, opening up new realms of psychological exploration.”

Historians have hailed the film as revolutionary for its contributions to cinema as a whole. It is one of the most examined and widely discussed films in existence and is hugely responsible for drawing attention to the merit of German filmmakers. Film critic Danny Peary called the film “cinema’s first cult film, and a precursor for arthouse films.” It established the concept of using light and shadows to reflect character psychology—a notion that would continue in German cinema and spill over into film noir, a genre largely influenced by expressionist cinema in tone and narrative.

The film boasted other groundbreaking techniques related to presentation. Its title cards were pieces of art in their own right, mangled and jagged to reflect the nature of the words they were conveying. But the film’s use of overlaid situational typography via stop-motion animation was truly innovative in 1920. As The Art of the Title (Links to an external site.) says, “During a climactic scene in which the doctor descends into madness, the wall standing between the intertitle text and the on-screen action breaks down completely. The phrase “Du Musst Caligari Werden” (“You Must Become Caligari”) appears out of thin air, repeating, growing out of the very trees, the manifestation of his insanity.”

In his book A Critical History of German Film, German film historian Stephen Brockmann says, “In the end, the film is not just about one unfortunate madman; it is about an entire world that is possibly out of balance.” - Jeff Saporito, The Take

INTRO TO SMALL VIDEO ON THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1920)

In this kidnapping scene Cesar the Somnambulant is directed by Caligari to action.

The Film - Link Here
1)Pay close attention to the use of in-camera effects,
2)over-the-top set design and Tall interior (The high rising streets - in kidnapping)
3)lighting which reinforces the foreboding mood and tone (triangular)
4)and the importance of pacing. (tip toes)
5)The visual contrast, (Black actor suit/white bed linens/nightgown)

6)physical spacing of actors in sets (two beds with two men diagonal white all black)
7) and overly dramatic silent-era acting are intentional and have an impact.
8)Composition and matting in frame are also particularly effective. (white tunnel /thorns on sides - drops her on getaway) - surreal)

The film is cued to start at 44:15. Please watch through at least 49:14

Dr. Seuss flowers

NOSFERATU (1922)

Nosferatu is often used as the poster child of the German expressionist wave of motion pictures. This movement, of which Murnau's classic is clearly a member, externalizes emotions and relies upon a heavily theatrical acting style to achieve that aim.

Expressionism has many components, including a strong visual approach and a visceral appeal, but subtlety is not among them. By today's standards, the acting in Nosferatu is almost comically over-the-top, but, seen in the context within which the film was developed, it was par for the course. And, even though Murnau is less interested in building characters than he is in exploring themes and telling a chilling story, we nevertheless develop a sense of sadness where Orlock is concerned. Despite his horrific appearance, he is very much a tragic figure.

Atmosphere and visual composition represent two of Nosferatu's most prominent features. Murnau carefully planned every shot in the film - nothing is left to chance, from the placement of a mirror to the point on the screen in which characters enter and exit a scene.

Framing devices like arches (for Orlock) and windows (for Ellen) are presented repeatedly.

Primitive special effects, such as time lapse photography, are used sparingly but effectively. And certain images, such as one of

Orlock's distorted shadow climbing the stairs of Ellen's house, imprint themselves upon the mind.

Nosferatu may not be traditionally frightening,

but the result of Muranu's artistic approach is a pervasive sense of eerieness and unease.

And, because the film's visual palette is so rich, there is much to be discovered on subsequent viewings. Like all great artwork, Nosferatu hides many of its most striking features from those who sample it casually.

- James Berardinelli, Reel Views

Dramatically heightening the stakes with masterful parallel action, one of the final scenes of Nosferatu is a masterclass in effective use of shadow, pacing and juxtaposition.

The film is cued to 1:20:43, please watch at least to 1:26:29

Link to Nosferatu (1922) - Here