The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari

The remake of "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" has all the poles holding it up. We have plenty of shadows, plenty of new camera angles, and more tension than the original masterpiece. Of course you are going to see some scenes which mirror the original. This just proves the love which went into the making of this soon to be classic. The most remarkable parts of this film are the reprisals of the original flick's backgrounds, and a fantastic series of performances, especially the new Caligari who is even more bad tempered and crazier than ever. The new film focuses even more on the sanity of the tortured Francis, who seems to be losing his grip with his own world as the film progresses. The actor who portrays the killer Caesare is eerily similar to the first film's sleepwalking stabber. The black and white flavoring really gives you the impression that this film might have been made in the late 30's than the new millennium. All in all, a terrific remake and a film no horror purist can resist.

The sets, props, and lighting are all copies of the originals, but most of the performances make no attempt at expressionism, or any other kind of stylization. They sound like modern Americans reading a modern script, which of course they are and it is, although the script would allow for more imaginativeness. The result is discordant, and just seems silly. It leads me to wonder what a Johnny Depp would have done with any of these roles.

How can a film with Doug Jones be bad? Well, easily, but not due to Doug Jones. Though filling the shoes of Conrad Veidt is a tough thing to do!

There is nothing wrong with remaking a film if it is done right, but there are some flaws to this that just make it a weak reinterpretation. First, they seem to have the film set in the original time (1920s), but the actors are clearing modern men with their language and mannerisms.

The biggest problem is the attempt at German expressionism. They have the contrast, they have the odd shapes... but they just do not have the heart or soul of the movement. It is like painting a Van Gosh with paint-by-numbers. Sure, you can make it look similar, but you do not have the technique or passion behind it. The film would have been better off adapting the story to a modern setting than to pay homage to the original if they did not have the ability to pull it off.

Around eight years ago when «Batman Begins» was released, I wrote that in future releases we would finally «know why Daffy Duck is mean, learn of the dysfunctional family of Charlie Brown, or discover the psychological traumas suffered by Olive Oyl in her youth», due to the tendency of some filmmakers to explain everything and, in these cases, to turn icons of American pop culture into celluloid «human beings». I did not know that also in 2005, a few months later, David Lee Fisher had released his remake of the German Expressionistic classic, «Das Kabinett des Doktor Caligari» (1919), directed by Robert Wiene. I have finally seen it and I can assert that, if there is a clear illustration of that fixation, that wrecks propositions and turns them into a mishmash palatable to the minimum common denominator, it is «The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari» (2005). Nothing could be farther than this from the intentions of the German filmmakers in early 20th century.

As it is outlined in Fisher's new adaptation, the protagonist, Francis (played by Judson Pearce Morgan, with trite tics and annoying manias learned from the Method), constantly blocks the flow of his own subjective world, as it was proposed by Expressionism. Francis spends the whole film trying to find explanations to everything, taken from Psychology 101, a habit that perhaps he acquired from his work in the field of statistics, as he tells his best friend Alan. In the Expressionist subjectivity there are elements of irrationality, but in this exasperating rereading they have no place: Francis resists to open his heart and mind to them, to passion and excess, and above anything he fails to recognize (as suggested by her «beloved» Jane) the strong homo-erotic content in his relation with Alan.

However, if there is an elemental opportunity that Fisher lost, almost a century after the release of Wiene's film, was to stick to the tale of that demented summer in Holstenwall and suppress the explanatory frame that producer Erich Pommer imposed, to «tame» the original story by Carl Mayer and Hans Janowitz. But even in this form, Wiene's original went along with the madness of Caligari's and all the other characters, who are immersed in a distorted and oblique world, without the abundant close-ups that have been added to this retelling, following the so-called «zero degree style» of filmmaking.

In this explanatory strategy in cinema, many American filmmakers have chosen to believe that their products, enunciated in the particular way Americans speak English language, will be accepted, when what really happens is that these works are self-betraying concoctions that evidence a lazy vulgarity that makes no effort to enrich the films with the understanding of diversity. Everything is uniformed by common ways of American culture (which, obviously, is fine and correct to the average American), to make everything seem as «American as apple pie», be it a vampire story in Romania, of Mayan chiefs in Yucatán or German folks in Holstenwall. The people in this village rent tents in their yearly town fair in dollars, and they relax their t's as if they had their mouths full of peanut butter. This «Americanization» of the Other has become so common, that most spectators no longer question it. It may be fine for entertainment or for stories about Americans, but for those who, perhaps as Fisher, pretend to make art and tell stories in foreign places, many results are cheap, coarse, and ugly. In this line of thought, it seems logical that research of the «Expressionist acting method» was not considered too seriously by anyone in the cast. In particular, this affected badly a key character of the story: the somnambulist Cesare. From the terrifying and virile creation Conrad Veidt made in the original, we were left with Doug Jones' Cesare that, sorry to say, reminded me of Polly Bergen, as if she had had a very bad day, with a cheap wig and make-up.

In the end one has to admit that this «Cabinet» was, above anything else, a technical exercise in which contemporary actors were skilfully placed among the Expressionist sets created in 1919 by Walter Röhring, Hermann Warm and Walter Reinamm, whose names do not appear in the credits, and the roles of production designer and art director are taken by two persons whose work must have been quite limited. On the artistic side, the exercise had no impact. If anything distinguishes the 1919 film is that it inaugurated the horror film, that it set a trend in fantastic cinema. And that in terms of lightning, composition and design it had an influence beyond the obvious genres (horror and film noir), that still manifests in some films, not always with good results. As in this one.

As a huge fan of the original—which I have seen more than a dozen times—I greeted Fisher's remake with great enthusiasm. I too attended the screening and Q & A at Two Boots Pioneer Theater, and came away with a deep impression of a director obsessed with this extraordinary and legendary film. While the dialogue at times seems insipid, it is precisely the American diction and its quirkiness that gives meaning to this silent film re-shot on the green screen, who breathe new life into the two-dimensional expressionist sets that wildly zig and zag. Precisely because it seems so utterly improbably to hear a bunch of tongue-twisted Americans speak the rephrased German silent titles does Fisher achieve success. I relished this fresh new- millennium perspective of the world of a madman seen in various contexts ranging from the insane asylum to the carnival with hurdy gurdy player. And in re-reading theorists such as Lotte Eisner and Siegfried Kracauer, it makes all the more sense that Americans are reprising these Weimar-era roles. Recall Decla's original release "You must become Caligari" posters of 1920; that's precisely what Daamen Kraal so vividly achieves.