Book Review: Weimar Cinema, 1919-1933
Laurence Kardish’s Weimar Cinema, 1919-1933 is an excellent resource for cinephiles new to the German Expressionist film movement and German Expressionist enthusiasts looking for an encyclopedia of films from the genre. The book is broken up into two sections: the first is a collection of essays about the German Expressionist film aesthetic and discusses competing theories of the genre’s origins as well as explanations for the genre’s critical, and sometimes commercial, success; the second is a 150-page catalog containing titles, technical specifications, and summaries of German Expressionist films, as well as still photographs from the productions.
Of particular interest to readers may be Thomas Elsaesser’s essay, “Inside the Mind, a Soul of Dynamite?: Fantasy, Vision Machines, and Homeless Souls in Weimar Cinema.” Most film critics and historians focus on the parallel between the common themes of German Expressionist film and the social and political environment in Germany at the time. Following World War I, Germany was in chaos, both financially and politically, and this chaos directly led to the rise of the Nazi party and the onset of World War II. As German Expressionist films often feature monstrous, powerful creatures (and human beings) who lurk in the shadows and eventually wreak havoc on the German people, many historians and critics have drawn the conclusion that the German Expressionist style arose as a reflection of the fears and insecurities of the German people following World War I. Elsaesser, on the other hand, offers a different explanation.
Elsaesser never disputes that social themes enter into German Expressionist films. He does, however, argue that the sociopolitical climate is not what gave rise to the genre. Instead, as an attempt to assert Germany’s place in the burgeoning film world, theater actor Paul Wegener and camera operator Guido Seeber developed the genre for stylistic reasons. Wegener and Seeber were fascinated by special effects, and began searching for suitable stories to highlight these effects.
Because special effects are easily suited to the fantasy genre, they began searching there. They eventually turned to Romantic and Gothic literature, as well as German fairy tales, as their primary influences. Elsaesser’s account of the genre’s origin also helps to explain why the early years of the German Expressionist film movement featured so many retellings of famous Gothic and Romantic stories. The Student of Prague (1913), for instance, is a retelling of Faust, and Nosferatu (1922) is a retelling of Dracula.
Weimar Cinema, 1919-1933 contains other engaging essays, as well. Laurence Kardish’s “Transatlantic,” for instance, documents the interesting relationship between the American and German film communities during the early twentieth century, and Werner Sudendorf’s “Neither Lulu nor Lola: Marlene Dietrich before The Blue Angel” is a fascinating profile of the German-born actress Marlene Dietrich, who worked in the German theater and film communities in the 1920s before coming to the United States.
As is the case with any art form, reading about it is instructive, but experiencing it is indispensable. For this reason, the catalog in Weimar Cinema, 1919-1933 is an excellent resource for film enthusiasts. The profiles, summaries, reviews, and technical information offered in the catalog give readers a helping hand as they begin choosing titles to view and purchase. If you’re a film enthusiast and have any interest in the German Expressionist film movement, I definitely recommend this book.
Photo by just.nila / Attribution 2.0 Generic (CC BY 2.0)
The above image was inspired, in part, by The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920), a German Expressionist film directed by Robert Wiene.
