The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)A warped mind sees the world through warped eyes. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a silent horror film from Germany, made over a century ago. It is a framed narrative about a suspicious, hunchbacked circus emcee calling himself "Dr. Caligari" (Werner Krauss), whose main attraction is a "somnambulist" (sleepwalker) named Cesare (Conrad Veidt). After a spree of nocturnal murders sweep the small (yet abstract-looking) town of Holstenwall, a young man named Francis (Friedrich Fehér) suspects that Caligari is responsible.
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With its reputation as the "first true horror film" (as Roger Ebert put it), much has already been said about The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. I, myself, went into it blind, and chose to watch the movie unfettered by past interpretations. So for me, much of what seemed odd or even arbitrary at the onset of the film became clear after the film's twist ending. So, apologies in advance, but there will be spoilers to explain just what I mean by that, and as a result why a film like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari endures as a classic--or even progenitor--of the horror genre. Superficially, Caligari looks a bit like a scruffy precursor to Rotwang of Fritz Lang's Metropolis. He is depicted as a scheming and dirty villain, with menacing eyes and furrowed eyebrows, so we know that he must be up to no good. In fact, he looks positively cartoonish, like a caricature of a villain, which is an important detail for important later. I can see why many people might forget until the end of the movie that this is a framed narrative, told by Francis to a man on a bench who only moments before was talking about his own worries about demonic possession or something. Just then, a woman walks by, seemingly sleepwalking herself, and Francis identifies her as his fiancée. And in the story that Francis tells to that same man, he tells him something about his own strange past, wherein that same woman is Jane (Lil Dagover), who nearly becomes a murder victim herself. Francis recalls that he and a friend named Alan (Hans Heinz v. Twardowski) were friendly rivals for Jane's affections, but when they go to Caligari's show and Cesare prophesizes Alan's death that night--which does transpire--Francis and Jane take it upon themselves to discover just what Caligari and Cesare are up to, and how that led to the death of Alan. A strange tale indeed.
The set design of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is bizarre, as though it were from some demented nightmare. Buildings and roads do not conform to any rational kind of architecture, but are more like some cubist or surreal representation of a small town in Germany. My first impulse when watching this movie was to dismiss this as mere whimsy, a directorial flourish meant to suggest that live in a movie is different than reality. After all, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari was made in the primitive era of cinema, where stage makeup and acting techniques were already overblown. But this is one of the cleverest ways by which the movie uses imagery to subconsciously suggest that the story itself isn't grounded in reality. This only becomes apparent at the conclusion, however, when (spoilers, ahoy!) Francis is revealed to be in an insane asylum, where "Jane" and "Cesare" are other patients, and where "Dr. Caligari" is his psychiatrist. It is a moment that really pulled the rug out from under me, and forced me to reexamine the entire movie prior. It also makes the whole framed narrative more than just a stylistic convention; it underscores that Francis's story should not be taken as factual just because he looks like a mentally healthy person. This idea that the doctor is viewed as the villain by the protagonist in his fantasy has been a constant in cinema ever since, including everything from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest to Marvel's "Moon Knight" series. It also forced me to consider the most exciting and interesting moments from Francis's fabrication and consider why this revelation gives them more weight. Frankly, most of the beginning of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a bit boring, even cliché. The nasty Caligari is mistreated by the town clerk, so of course he's the first one murdered. Cesare has--according to Caligari--slept for "twenty-five years", and wakes up in a coffin for his circus performance debut...oh, and he also happens to be a soothsayer. Pretty ridiculous stuff; but it's also the kind of stuff a...well, a crazy person might think would make sense in a story, so suddenly it gels with Francis's delusions. But the exact moment that the movie seemed to get that spark of life comes after Cesare is sent to murder Jane in the night. He pulls back her bedsheet and lifts his knife, but is stuck; he just can't kill this lovely lady. And why? Because he's moved by her innocence? Sure, but probably really because Francis is in love with her. This is reinforced by how erotically tinged the scene is and how aroused Cesare appears to be by the sight of her scantily clad body in bed--a fantasy which Francis has no doubt had before. There are little moments where Francis's delusion threatens to cave in on itself, most especially when he learns that Dr. Caligari originally came from the mental institution, and where he is discovered to be the head doctor himself! Francis manages to convince all of the other doctors that Caligari--the one from his delusion--is a fraud and a monster. This is the kind of power fantasy that the real Francis also no doubt wishes to be true. All of these details are slowly peeled back like layers of an onion, and because of it we get to enjoy that sense of disorientation and mystery which makes the twist ending so effective. So to sum up, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari goes to show that first impressions can be deceiving, and even a hundred years ago, adept filmmakers were writing the rules of cinema that still define the medium today.
Recommended for: Fans of a formative horror movie from the dawn of cinema. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari may very well have set down the criteria for what we now use to define a horror movie; as such, genre fans owe it to themselves to watch this. It may change how you view horror movies and thrillers from now on.
The set design of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is bizarre, as though it were from some demented nightmare. Buildings and roads do not conform to any rational kind of architecture, but are more like some cubist or surreal representation of a small town in Germany. My first impulse when watching this movie was to dismiss this as mere whimsy, a directorial flourish meant to suggest that live in a movie is different than reality. After all, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari was made in the primitive era of cinema, where stage makeup and acting techniques were already overblown. But this is one of the cleverest ways by which the movie uses imagery to subconsciously suggest that the story itself isn't grounded in reality. This only becomes apparent at the conclusion, however, when (spoilers, ahoy!) Francis is revealed to be in an insane asylum, where "Jane" and "Cesare" are other patients, and where "Dr. Caligari" is his psychiatrist. It is a moment that really pulled the rug out from under me, and forced me to reexamine the entire movie prior. It also makes the whole framed narrative more than just a stylistic convention; it underscores that Francis's story should not be taken as factual just because he looks like a mentally healthy person. This idea that the doctor is viewed as the villain by the protagonist in his fantasy has been a constant in cinema ever since, including everything from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest to Marvel's "Moon Knight" series. It also forced me to consider the most exciting and interesting moments from Francis's fabrication and consider why this revelation gives them more weight. Frankly, most of the beginning of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a bit boring, even cliché. The nasty Caligari is mistreated by the town clerk, so of course he's the first one murdered. Cesare has--according to Caligari--slept for "twenty-five years", and wakes up in a coffin for his circus performance debut...oh, and he also happens to be a soothsayer. Pretty ridiculous stuff; but it's also the kind of stuff a...well, a crazy person might think would make sense in a story, so suddenly it gels with Francis's delusions. But the exact moment that the movie seemed to get that spark of life comes after Cesare is sent to murder Jane in the night. He pulls back her bedsheet and lifts his knife, but is stuck; he just can't kill this lovely lady. And why? Because he's moved by her innocence? Sure, but probably really because Francis is in love with her. This is reinforced by how erotically tinged the scene is and how aroused Cesare appears to be by the sight of her scantily clad body in bed--a fantasy which Francis has no doubt had before. There are little moments where Francis's delusion threatens to cave in on itself, most especially when he learns that Dr. Caligari originally came from the mental institution, and where he is discovered to be the head doctor himself! Francis manages to convince all of the other doctors that Caligari--the one from his delusion--is a fraud and a monster. This is the kind of power fantasy that the real Francis also no doubt wishes to be true. All of these details are slowly peeled back like layers of an onion, and because of it we get to enjoy that sense of disorientation and mystery which makes the twist ending so effective. So to sum up, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari goes to show that first impressions can be deceiving, and even a hundred years ago, adept filmmakers were writing the rules of cinema that still define the medium today.
Recommended for: Fans of a formative horror movie from the dawn of cinema. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari may very well have set down the criteria for what we now use to define a horror movie; as such, genre fans owe it to themselves to watch this. It may change how you view horror movies and thrillers from now on.