Monday, September 15, 2008

Morality and Civilization in Sunrise and Metropolis

Although I wanted to treat myself to a complete viewing of The Battleship Potemkin, I decided that I wanted to revisit Metropolis after a two year vacation (forgive the bad pun). I found Metropolis even more enjoyable and technically impressive during my second viewing. Being an amateur filmmaker myself I cannot help but be critical with nearly every aspect of every film I watch. I observe the timing and composition of shots, the use or lack of transitions, the use of sound and music, and the recurring themes or motifs. These elements which all concern the editing done in post-production determine how the film is interpreted. After the movie is finished I need to consolidate all my observations into a general understanding of the intended message behind the film.

As we discussed in class, the plot behind Sunrise is the simple yet romanticized story of a man who nearly falls beyond the point of redemption. There are two women who represent the clashing forces of good and evil, tradition and modernization respectively. The protagonist is a man who constantly finds himself torn between the two. On one end of the spectrum we have a woman from the city. Her character follows the stereotype of a flapper. She has the bearing of the upper-class and is clearly fashion conscious. Although we can’t hear her we can tell by her body language that she is loud, flamboyant, obnoxious, and somewhat masculine. We can see from the images of the wild jazz clubs as she describes them to the man that she enjoys a life that is fast-paced and exhilarating. What she ultimately wants is a far cry from the simple life of a farmer. Her gyrations in front of the man as they sit beside the swamp functions as a visual metaphor for her intentions to ensnare the man like a snake. Regardless she seems to draw extreme pleasure from plotting and exercising control over the man.

The only force which prevents the city woman from accomplishing her goal is the farmer’s traditional, conservative, and loyal wife. Although she married and started a family at a young age she has the naiveté and bearing of a virgin. As we can see from her behavior in the city barbershop she has an aversion change or anything that strays from tradition. The man’s struggle with himself is also the battle between light and dark, country and city, civilized and uncivilized. Because of the city woman’s influence a formerly good husband nearly kills his wife and loses himself.

Metropolis like Sunrise also has two women who are fighting on opposing sides, so let’s compare the two women from that film to the two Marias in Metropolis. On one hand we have a Maria who embodies loyalty, stability, wisdom, piety, and virginity. In looking at her we can note a focused, yet calm expression and her minimal and efficient movement. She assures the disgruntled workers that a mediator between the “head” and the “hands” will eventually appear. She is their general who alleviates their pain, gives them hope, and prevents them from rising up against Joh Fredersen.

The polar opposite of the real Maria is the machine disguised as Maria. It was assembled by Rotwang and programmed by Joh Fredersen to sow discord and incite the workers to riot. Its facial expressions are crazed, unpredictable, and unnerving. This Maria’s movements are somewhat rigid, but they are also wild, furious, and untamed. It is an erotic and sexually provocative entity that leads men to fight each other for its affections. This Maria seems to spend all its time living in the moment, dancing, and participating in revelry with no concern for the future.

In looking at the four women in these two films I see reflected a late 19th and early 20th century fear for anything that was considered uncivilized or that was merely misunderstood. In Heart of Darkness when Marlowe sees the African natives freely dancing around a fire he suddenly finds himself afraid because there is no sense of order to their dance; it is wild and untamed. It is almost as if he fears that the lack of order will somehow rub off on him and permanently corrupt him. I believe that Murnau and Lang both intend for us to feel a similar degree of discomfort when we look at the power the city woman in Sunrise and the machine Maria in Metropolis have over men. Both films seem to be warning us all to be aware that the world is full of forces which threaten to destroy civilization and corrupt the good Christian or moral man.

1 comment:

敬蓮 said...

It *is* very impressive to see what Lang could do with film more almost 80 years ago; whether the massive sets and crowd scenes, or the more subtle, detailed passages, there's clearly a great deal of thought he put into every shot.

The "Madonna/Whore" dichotomy (as Lucy Fischer put it) still activates most Hollywood stories; we appear to want to applaud virtuous women while being titillated by wicked ones. Few early films took this theme as far as Maria/False-Maria in Metropolis, but Lang really pushes the limits here. Do you see any difference in *how* the film presents these two women? For instance, the mode of shots/edits, their motions/stillness, their mode of expression?

Fun fact: Birgitte Helm (the actress portraying both Marias) was 21 at the time of filming, and it was her debut role; she gave up acting in 1935, mysteriously, and never talked about her life in film again. Dramatic.