Faust (1926) - Directed by F.W. Murnau

Is Faust the grandest experiment ever conducted by F.W. Murnau? He literally throws everything at the viewer here in a film that is overshadowed historically by the film that he made following it in 1927, Sunrise. I recently watched Sunrise, for the third time, and am absolutely convinced that, yes it contains mostly brilliant cinema, but it also contains a few really sappy segments that play poorly melodramatic- not to Murnau’s strengths. I actually find City Girl (1930) to be a far more evenly paced film than Sunrise and manages to avoid some of the maudlin aspects that Sunrise falls into times. Murnau was not at his best playing up melodrama though. He was at his best highlighting the darker recesses of humanity and made his most technically interesting films while still in Germany. This was his last German film.

Faust is based on the Goethe play and stars Gosta Ekmann as Faust, an elderly alchemist, who sells his soul to the Devil in exchange for youth and earthly pleasures. Emil Jannings plays the demon Mephisto who escorts Faust around, and generally wreaks all kinds of havoc throughout the story through manipulation. Sex plays a large role in the film, as Faust is initially convinced to take a trial day under the Devil’s rule, but his day as a younger man is about to come to an end before he is able to fornicate with a woman he is wooing to bed. He is convinced to finalize the pact with the Devil therefore in order to keep his “date”. Later in the film, Faust is smitten by a young woman named Gretchen. His temptation to couple with Gretchen becomes not only his downfall, but also that of Gretchen and her family.

I think anyone familiar with the Faust story will not be surprised or particularly excited by the plot mechanics. For me the excitement of the film is in the presentation which is wildly chaotic and absolute fun. Several setpieces and images are quite memorable. From the image of the Devil and his hulking presence towering over the miniature town, to the sequence where Faust is out in the countryside calling the demon Mephisto to come to his side and out of the blackness, the overlaid imagery of Mephisto riding a horse comes closer and closer out of the sky. One of the most striking sequences is toward the end when Gretchen is trudging through the snow with her baby and out of sheer exhaustion plops herself down in the snow. Her scream for “Faust!” after they’ve found her baby dead in the snow is also an example of visual storytelling at its finest in the silent era. Using overlaid imagery, special effects, tracking shots, unique setpieces, Murnau reaches his pinnacle of inventiveness I believe here in this film.

So let’s talk about Emil Jannings who is magnificent as Mephisto. His performance just downright dominates the film and he in general puts most actors from this era to shame. His expressions are what I take away from this film, especially his evil smile. I wonder though, if the performance is a bit more caricatured than say, something like The Doorman from The Last Laugh, which might be his best work of all. There, he is able to express a greater range of emotion. Here, it’s almost like a glorious, extended cameo appearance of sorts, where he gets to have all of the fun and doesn’t have to carry the emotion. As for Murnau, I’ve found that the films I enjoy the best are the ones he made in Germany. The Last Laugh and Faust especially are wonderful, kinetic examples of his craft. When he went to Hollywood, something for me was not quite the same. Many people consider Sunrise the greatest silent film of all time though, so maybe it’s just me. 

The Last Laugh (1924) - Directed by F.W. Murnau

Murnau’s jaw-dropping masterpiece The Last Laugh is a testament to visual ingenuity, to storytelling, and to pure film mastery. If there is anyone out there who doesn’t believe that silent film contained masterful visual techniques then I would probably show them this one. Although Murnau left the world early at the age of 42, the body of work he put together in the silent film era is as formidable as any other silent film director. He arguably made the greatest silent film of all-time, Sunrise (1927). It’s not that I disagree with that statement, it’s just that I’m not even sure that Sunrise is Murnau’s best film! My vote just might go to The Last Laugh.

There is something so purely magical about this film. Emil Jannings plays an aging doorman at a hotel who near the beginning of the film, is demoted from his position and is forced to take the job of washroom attendant. It’s clear his boss thinks he is too old to keep the position of doorman at the hotel. Most of Murnau’s film follows Jannings as his outlook and demeanor deteriorates. It’s clear that the doorman saw his position as not just his job, but as his life-defining aspect. When his job is taken away from him, it’s as if he can barely muster the energy to continue to live. There’s a scene early in the film where a happy Jannings is walking down the street in his doorman uniform, coming across a small child and sincerely gives the child a box of licorice. This is the “before”. The “after” is Jannings stumbling home after the demotion, with the weight of the world on his hunched shoulders, wind whistling through his beard, fearful eyes turned back over his shoulder as the world is collapsing on top of him. I adore the way this film examines age and job position and how careers can dominate how we view ourselves. When a job is taken away, it has devastating effects.

Murnau’s film is completely told without dialogue intertitles. The impact of this film thus relies completely upon the actors and the visual storytelling techniques. Murnau’s sets are created to allow us to see the action and see the interaction. Foremost is the massive swinging doorway of the hotel that looks nearly 30 feet tall not only welcoming but also intimidating all who pass through. Murnau’s tracking shots, point of view sequences and overlaid montages are simply astounding here. Jannings’ drunken hallucination sequence is garish, magical, hypnotic and inspiring all at the same time. My favorite shot in the film is the overlaid image of Jannings’ head with the massive swinging door lit up through his head. Presaging Inception (2010) by nearly 90 years, the shot of the building careening over itself is an impressively striking sequence as Jannings’ mind deteriorates. This film is a near barrage of visual brilliance.

So let’s discuss Jannings, who here gives my favorite of his great performances, perhaps challenged by his work in The Last Command (1928). I prefer his work in The Last Laugh only because we get to watch him during so much more of the running time. He is tragic, comedic, sincere, loving, and utterly compelling for the entire film, carrying the weight of the film and making us feel the heavy burden he is under. I am so impressed with his work and by the fact that we don’t need to know what he’s saying. We just watch his eyes and his body and we know everything we need to. The Last Laugh is one of the absolute pinnacles of silent cinema and one of the all-time greatest examples of visual storytelling.