(1924, Fritz Lang Dir., Stars: Paul Richter,
Margarete Schön, Theodor Loos and Hanna Ralph.)
It happened 86 years ago, a tectonic
shift in cinema that triggered a sink-or-swim period of upheaval impacting
actors, directors and studio heads the world over. Today, we take the catalyst
of that tumultuous time for granted. I’m not talking about color -- hand-painted "color" films have been around since the very dawn of film. I’m talking about synchronized
sound in motion picture production and exhibition; in short, talkies killed the
silent movie star.
There was genius of necessity that
drove the silent movie era. Without sound, actors relied on their faces, and
eyes in particular, to emote; and directors thought long and hard on how to
convey a story visually. While there is a conservation movement afoot to
preserve silent films and rescue “lost” ones languishing in libraries,
archives, even closets around the world, only a fraction of the thousands made
remain. One film that was never lost but was all but forgotten is Fritz Lang’s
1924 medieval epic, Siegfried.
The
saga of Lang’s Siegfried closely
follows the ancient Nordic legend of Sigurd, a hero prince of Nordic legend who
quests with his sword of power, Gram, to win the hand of a maiden princess. Thea
Von Harbou, Lang’s wife, penned this film’s script (she also wrote Lang’s most
revered masterpiece, Metropolis) and
framed this majestic legend within a series of seven cantos:
Canto
1: Siegfried forges his sword and is told of the fair Princess Kriemhild of Burgundy,
he decides to journey there and win the lady’s hand. Siegfried’s passage is
detoured by the deceitful blacksmith, Mime, so he soon crosses paths with a
dragon he battles and ultimately slays. This victory gifts Siegfried an understanding
of the language of birds, from whom he learns that bathing in the blood of the
dragon will make his body invincible in battle. Unfortunately, Siegfried fails
to notice a single leaf fallen upon his shoulder as he bathes in the dragon’s
blood, leaving him an “Achilles’ Heel” spot of vulnerability.
Canto
2: Still en route to Burgundy, Siegfried encounters the dwarf King of the
Nibelungen, Alberich. The battle against the diminutive despot is easily won
despite Alberich’s Cap of Wonder (more accurately, a chainmail veil) which grants
the wearer not only the power of invisibility, but allows them to take on the
form of anything or anyone. Alberich begs Siegfried to spare his life, and in
return turns over both the Treasure of the Nibelungen and his Cap of Wonder. Upon
finally arriving in Burgundy, Siegfried asks the hand of Kriemhild from her
brother, King Gunther. The King first requests of Siegfried his help in winning
stout warrior queen, Brunhild, as his own bride.
Canto
3: Brunhild issues King Gunther’s three challenges she has set for any who seek
her hand. Siegfried dons his Cap of Wonder to become invisible and help Gunther
in these contests: stone throwing, long jumping and lastly, a competition of
spears. Defeated, Brunhild returns with King Gunther and Siegfried to Burgundy.
Canto
4: In Burgundy, Brunhild rejects the effeminate King Gunther insisting that she
is his captive, not his bride. Again, King Gunther turns to Siegfried for help.
Using Alberich’s Cap of Wonder, Siegfried takes King Gunther’s form and subdues
Brunhild’s wilds, impressing upon her that the Burgundy king is quite man
enough for her. During this struggle, however, Brunhild’s snake armlet is taken
by Siegfried, a token that would soon prove disastrously telling.
Canto
5: Months later, Kriemhild and her husband Siegfried remain in the castle at
the request of Kriemhild’s Mother; this leads to routine quarreling between Brunhild
and Kriemhild. When Kriemhild discovers Brunhild's snake armlet, Siegfried
tells her how her brother won the queen. Later, as the two queens of the castle
argue while attending mass, an offended Kriemhild tells Brunhild of the
deception Siegfried and King Gunther played upon her.
Canto
6: Brunhild seeks revenge by lying to King Gunther that Siegfried stole her
virginity. Incensed, King Gunther conspires with his royal right-hand man,
Hagen Tronje, to use a boar hunt as an opportunity to kill Siegfried. First,
though, Hagen Tronje cons from Kriemhild the location of a rumored vulnerable spot
on Siegfried's body by telling her that Siegfried has asked him to be his
bodyguard, and now must know which part of the hero’s body most needs guarding.
Brunhild fasts, the men depart for the hunt. Hagen Tronje lures Siegfried to an
isolated stream where he impales the hero prince through the shoulder, where
the leaf had fallen during his dragon blood bath. Siegfried, son of King
Siegmund of Xanten, dragon-slayer and hero – dies.
Canto
7: In the final denouement, Brunhild confesses her treachery to King Gunther, treachery
that has caused him to kill his true friend. Brunhild dies of starvation; her
fast, having taken its toll, also frees her from marriage to King Gunther. When
Kriemhild learns of the lies that lead to the murder of Siegfried, she swears her
own revenge on Hagen Tronje.
Visually,
Lang’s Siegfried is grand in scope and intimate with its characters emotions.
The castle sets are vast yet austere. In fact, these Teutonic recreations seem
to have had at least some influence on the sets of Carl Dreyer’s Passion of Joan of Arc (1928); they are
simple, stark white edifices sparsely dressed with luxuriant yet rudimentary furnishings
of the period. The facial expressions of the actors run the gamut from looks
that could kill to moist-eyed love, confusion and regret. And Lang’s dream
sequences are so powerfully evocative that I would readily hold them up with Salvador
Dali’s work on Hitchcock’s Spellbound(1945)
for their surrealism.
Fair
to say, The Dragon in Canto 1 looked silly and well dated. Siegfried was made long before CGI, and Claymation was a skill
being honed elsewhere in the world in 1928; still, I can’t help thinking Lang’s
crew could have done better. All told, though, it is fun to think that this
obviously phony dragon Siegfried killed was a 60-foot puppet it took three men
to operate!
Gotfried
Huppertz’s score accompanies Fritz Lang’s images perfectly. I’ve seen silent
films where the music is monotone in its pacing, flat and boring; however
Huppertz’s work for Siegfried kept me
engaged and guided my emotional reactions to the scenes as any great score
should for a silent film.
Movie
fans not used to watching silents may not want to jump straight into Siegfried for a Sunday night screening. These
pre-sound films can be brilliant, and Siegfried
is an excellent example of that era’s art; but silent films are an acquired
taste... And because there is no audible dialogue to move the story, the visual
storytelling requires your complete and constant attention. If you’ve never
watched silent films, start easy – check out Charlie Chaplin’s Mutual
two-reelers or some shorter works by F.W. Murnau, Buster Keaton or Ernst
Lubitsch. I guess a good analogy would be that one should learn to appreciate
select arias before subjecting themselves to a five-act opera.
Fritz
Lang originally filmed Siegfried
together with its follow-up, Kriemhild’s
Revenge, as a single five-hour epic. Such an extreme running time though
proved too long even for German audiences in the 1920s, and so the full film –
then known as Die Nibelungen – was
broken into, and marketed as, its two component halves. While both films are
available individually on DVD, Kino Video has in its’ Fritz Lang collection the
master’s fully restored five-hour vision. This box set also includes the
seminal Metropolis(1927), Spies(1928) and thrown in for good
measure, Woman In The Moon(1929), the
first film to show a countdown to the launching of a rocket. Kino’s Fritz Lang
collection is a must-have for any Lang fan or aficionados of the silent cinema.
(FTR - It has already been added to this reviewer’s Amazon Wish List.)
Modern
cinema must remember its roots, just as any family or nation should. It helps
one to see just how far they’ve come; to appreciate not only the present, but
the genuine genius of those forefathers upon whose shoulders they happily stand.
Silent films may be an acquired taste, but once that taste is attained, films
like Siegfried open up a whole new
dimension in a person’s appreciation of the art, and magic, of film. This film
is not just an historical curiosity, but an engaging story and visually
stunning grand opus. Watch Siegfried,
and imagine wistfully what Fritz Lang might have achieved had he the technology
now available to J.J. Abrams, or Peter Jackson.
[“Siegfried”
is currently available through Netflix on DVD and in some regions as On Demand
video. As mentioned, Kino Video has also released the fully restored ‘Die Nebelungen’
in a four-film box set of Fritz Lang’s works. This silent epic is also
available at the time of this writing, in its’ entirety, on YouTube.]
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