72. Metropolis

Fritz Lang, 1927

This is the first silent film to appear on the list and the oldest. It is also one of the most influential science fiction films of all time, with such films as Blade Runner clearly paying homage to its brilliant design. Ultimately, Metropolis is the last great German fairy tale, taking many of the common tropes of the fairy tale and transplanting them to a modern world. Metropolis is a story of haves and have nots, a society divided into the ultra rich and those who labor in the depths below the city. It has a handsome prince, Freder, reimagined as the son of an industrial baron, and a beautiful damsel, here a machine turned woman by the real villain of the piece, a sort of mad scientist with a mechanical hand. Metropolis is a fable then about man and machine, about how he resists it and fights against it, but how it slowly becomes a permanent and inescapable part of his life, whether that is in a man’s mechanical hand or in the presence of a machine woman made flesh. What I especially like about this film, though, is that, while it offers a fairly standard fairy tale narrative, it does not offer a standard fairy tale resolution. As the film ends one can clearly hold certain people responsible for the downfall of the city and realize the inherent wrong of the sharply divided society, but it is much harder to see where the film stands on the issue of industrialization in general. It neither says that the machine age is wholly bad, like the mad scientist, or wholly good, like the machine woman, Maria. Instead, the film seems to argue for a sort of moderation between two extremes. It recognizes the benefits of the machine age and, in doing so, avoids the standard black and white distinction in favor of something just a little more ambiguous.

Whether he likes it or not, this is probably Lang’s two best films (although Metropolis lost a great deal of favor in Lang’s eyes when he learned that it was Hitler’s favorite film). His eye as a director is perfect and he brilliantly crafts a future world that does not seem for one instant fake. Given the age of this film, I think it easy for most people who haven’t seen it to imagine a sort of Flash Gordon world of spaceships on strings and men with cardboard wings. Instead, Lang’s vision and ever single visual effect is utterly convincing. The city and, indeed, each individual building look wholly realistic, particularly the city’s central spire. It would have been easy for Lang to take an easy road on the production design and dismiss cheap sets as fitting for a fairy tale type story, but instead of offering a children’s theater version of his fable, Lang offers what may be the closest thing to a live action Disney classic. As brilliantly innovative and well designed as any of the earlier Disney films are, Metropolis is able to stand toe to toe with each, despite the limitations of both live action and 20s German film in general. The film is filled with brilliant and eternal visuals. One is Freder descending into the underground world of the workmen and taken the place of a fallen worker operating a machine that resembles a giant clock face. As Freder fights the hands of time, we first see him for the Christ figure he will become, as he appears almost crucified on the hands of the great clock, a brilliant metaphor in and of itself. The other great visual of the film is the machine woman herself, pictured in the poster. There is nothing fake about her costume, which resembles a sexy C-3PO. It appears to be made of rubber and leather and is one of the most convincing costumes of the entire silent era. Of course, that is the key to Metropolis’ power and legacy. It may be a fable, but it is an utterly convincing one.