 State-of-the-Art Laserdiscs and DVDs Under Scrutiny |
METROPOLIS, UFA (German 1926). Disc versions compared and reviewed in the following order: Madacy Entertainment DVD #DVD-9-9007, $9.98, Classic Media Holdings DVD #D0084, $12.98, Classic Film Collection (Japanese Import LD) #IVCL-1OI1S, 4,600 yen, Vestron Video I Image Entertainment LD #IDVL5O9O, $39.95
Fritz Lang's Metropolis-a visually astonishing, nightmarish view of the future-belongs in every well-rounded SF film collection. Yet finding an acceptable copy of this 1926 German masterpiece is often a frustrating quest, because there are more widely differing versions of Metropolis in circulation than perhaps any film in history. The popular movie guidebooks are no help; they all repeat the same plot synopsis, but none has ever listed how one version differs from another. Therefore, as a collector who has acquired several versions on tape, disc, and film, I offer the following survey of Metropolis on video as a guide for fellow fans, with special emphasis on the LaserDisc and new DVD editions.
Novelist Robert Bloch (Psycho, 1960) once recalled a discussion he had with Fritz Lang about Metropolis in which the legendary director asked a jaw- breaking question: "Why are you so interested in a picture that no longer exits?" Lang obviously never considered the surviving prints he'd seen-all heavily edited-to be valid. This is perfectly understandable. Lang's original theatrical version, which premiered in Berlin on January 10, 1927, is documented to have been 4,189 meters (over three hours) in length. After lukewarm reviews, the film was yanked from theaters on April 27th by the UFA studio and re-released that August in a version 3,241 meters long. Nearly a quarter of its footage had been excised and, tragically, remains lost. In the U.S., according to Variety, the American version ran a mere 107 minutes when it opened at the Rialto in New York on March 5, 1927 (re-edited by playwright Channing Pollock, employed by distributor Paramount).
Internationally, the film's integrity was further compromised as each country felt obliged to edit their own version, which is why there are seemingly endless variations of Metropolis in circulation today, as scenes missing from a print in one country will turn up in another. These cuts were motivated by reasons of artistic differences, local politics, or censorship. (Once such cut involving heroine Brigitte Helm's semi-nude dance, removed her more erotic movements, and the wilder reactions of the male audience. I've never encountered it on any video version, but managed to find it on an old Super-8mm film copy in which this sequence runs twice the usual length.)
There is no definitive Metropolis on video; that is, no copy has every frame from every scene in existence. (Enno Patalas, working for the Munich Film Museum, has reportedly assembled a two-and-a-half hour version using bits and pieces from every print he could find, but it's unavailable on video.) Trying to choose an acceptably complete version, based solely on stated running times, will prove fruitless. You'll find them listed anywhere from 87 to 120 minutes, but the prints I've encountered are simply projected at a slower frame rate. (Most videos run about 94 minutes-the faster frame rate-yet, to my eyes, some movement in these looks unnaturally quick.) The problem is further exacerbated by a proliferation of videos containing poorly edited prints, a few of which actually repeat scenes.
Some copies are missing important footage such as, for example, the "stadium" sequence which shows the youthful upper class enjoying a foot race. Without it, the film is dominated by scenes of the oppressed workers (below ground), and our only view of the elite (above ground) at play is a brief scene of Freder (son of John Frederson, Master of Metropolis) chasing a party girl around a garden fountain. Alone, the latter shot barely supports the "class struggle" theme of the film.
Other critical factors you should consider are the quality of the print element, the transfer, and the supporting music track. If you stick to "budget" labels, you're more likely to wind up with an excessively worn print; the best, so far, have carried a premium price. Another common problem is the mutilation of the original photographic compositions by their re-framing on video. If you notice that the tops of peoples' heads (or whole heads) are missing from the picture, it is not the fault of cameraman Karl Freund; you've picked up a carelessly made copy. But perhaps the greatest factor to influence your buying decision will also be the most subjective: The music track. The original score of Gottfried Huppertz still survives on paper, but no one has come forward to re-edit and record it to synch with modern cuts of Metropolis. Current videos utilize scores composed within the last quarter-century and, sadly, all are flawed to some degree. The following critiques naturally express my musical preferences, but I've attempted also to describe the general mood evoked by each score so that you can make your own decision.
And here they are-video critiques
arranged in the following order: First, all DVD editions (available at
this time); then all LaserDisc editions (including Japanese imports);
and finally, a noteworthy VHS tape edition. Any references to other VHS
editions are for general information purposes only, and are restricted
to tapes commonly found in U.S. retail stores (not specialty mail-order
dealers). For those videos of Metropolis that I don't reject
outright, I have followed the individual critique with a subjective ranking
number (first through fourth place) to assist the reader in making a comparative
analysis of the product's quality.
The Madacy Entertainment DVD is currently the most widely available Metropolis on disc, and its attractive package and $10 price beckon you to try it out. Ironically, this DVD contains one of the most wretched versions of Metropolis you'll find. The print is blurry, worn, faded, and cropped severely on three sides. Even worse, it's married to an annoying, non-synched soundtrack of random classical music selections that begin and end in the middle of sequences with no regard for the moods or events in the film. It's a travesty.
I also found that Madacy's version is projected noticeably slower than any other Metropolis on video-a fact which I don't hold against it, but its stated running time of "115 min." may fool the uninitiated into thinking it has additional scenes. (It is actually missing the "stadium" sequence.) Other oddities: All of the inter titles are shown as freeze-frames, and the film closes with a very contemporary-looking "The End" card tacked on. The disc contains twelve chapters, though the "scene index" lists only nine; and due to some DVD mastering fluke, chapter #9 only lasts one second, and chapter #10 refused to allow my player's motion effects (fast forward, slow, stop) to function. Avoid this dog.
Another new Metropolis DVD has emerged from Classic Media Holdings (CMH) which is actually a widely-seen version that circulated for years under the Thunderbird Films label. I will award high marks for its soundtrack and completeness, but its print quality and editing are abysmal. The CMH copy shows considerable wear, poor contrast, and some cropping along the top, but still manages to look a bit sharper than Madacy's print. Its music track is its greatest asset-a synchronized orchestral score commissioned by the BBC back in the 1970s (though the DVD fails to identify it anywhere on the disc or in the copious liner notes). Some weird and decidedly overdone electronic tones are mixed in with the orchestra at times, but its avant-garde style is usually satisfying, and this is one of the few versions with sound effects.
Running a surprisingly short 95 minutes, the CMH DVD is also one of the more complete versions of Metropolis (aside from Giorgio Moroder's 1984 restoration, which I'll cover later), but it suffers from editing woes. Some examples: It has the elusive "stadium" sequence, but it's shown out of place, at the very beginning of the film (it should follow the scene of workers returning to their underground apartments); and later, there is an extra (repeated) shot of Freder running out of his father's office (a surprisingly common flub in many prints I've seen). The most obvious mistake, however, is the duplication of an entire scene (DVD title time 1:21:33) where the exhausted heroes Freder, Maria, and Josaphat step forward to embrace the children they have just saved from a flood. This second occurrence is from a different (horrible) print source, but adds a dialog title that reads: "Let us take them into the 'Eternal Gardens.'" Despite its many problems, I still rank the CMH DVD version in third place against the others reviewed here.
Another 1970s version of Metropolis
was constructed with a jazz piano score by Stuart Oderman. Prints were
circulated by Griggs-Moviedrome and later surfaced in the video age on
a Japanese "import" LaserDisc (IVCL-1011S) and on VHS tape (United
American Video #5350). Oderman's music is generally laid-back, casting
a tranquil aura over the film that is quite different from any of the
others here. But it's definitely not for everybody: My wife, for one,
labels this version "Charlie Brown Goes To Metropolis"-referring
to the similarity of Oderman's easy-going piano style to that of Vince
Guaraldi, who scored the "Peanuts" holiday cartoons in the '60s.
The print seen on the Japanese LD looks much smoother and cleaner than
either of the DVDs, though the CMH disc is a touch sharper, framed better,
and more complete.
The Oderman Metropolis, running 94 minutes, omits the potentially confusing prolog card ("This film is not of today or of the future...") seen on the DVD versions-which I applaud-but is missing the "stadium" scene and a later compilation shot showing Maria surrounded by floating images of workers who are seemingly hypnotized by her wide, crazed eyes (title time 1:07:11 on CMH; 1:23:01 on Madacy). It also shares a Madacy editing flaw: Freder runs out of his father's office twice. Unique to the LD, Japanese subtitles sometimes obscure portions of the English inter titles. Certainly, this is not Metropolis at its best. I'd put it in fourth place.
Composer Giorgio Moroder (Flashdance, 1983) produced a partial reconstruction of Metropolis in 1984, adding a contemporary (mostly rock) score. It was released twice on LaserDisc in the U.S. (originally a Vestron LD, re-released through Image Entertainment) as well as on VHS and Beta tape, though they are all discontinued. (An identical LD version was also issued in Japan in 1985, but is plagued with a troublesome analog soundtrack and Japanese subtitles for the lyrics of the background songs!) Moroder's print is the cleanest, sharpest, steadiest, and brightest Metropolis I've seen, and the Image LD is best of the lot on video...if you can find it.
Moroder's version is highly personal. To some extent, his music track makes Metropolis seem like one long rock video with different bands and vocalists taking on different scenes. (According to critic Roger Ebert, it was marketed at the 1984 Cannes Film Festival as a possible "midnight cult film.") Moroder also added color tints, a fake sunset and clouds, and some animated "sparkle" effects to the film where there were none. Additionally, he re-sequenced some scenes, trimmed many others, and replaced most inter titles with subtitles printed beneath the action-apparently to improve pacing (the film runs just 87 minutes). Despite all this tampering and the exclusion of some footage, it flows beautifully. Some critics object to the music; but Moroder's pulsating electronic score and sound effects have infused Metropolis with much needed energy. And if this makes the film palatable to a wider-and especially younger-audience, I'm all for it.
Most significantly, Moroder's Metropolis restores important scenes that were previously considered "lost," thus repairing and improving the film's feeble storyline. His reconstruction includes bits of footage that validate the roles of the mysterious Slim (whom Frederson dispatches to spy on his son) and the machine-operator, Georgy (the worker who saves Freder's life). Restored scenes of wild parties in Yoshiwara's "house of ill-repute" give us another much-needed glimpse of the elite of Metropolis, while new titles finally reveal a lost sub-plot involving a rivalry between the lead male characters for a woman named Hel. (U.S. editors, fearing the name would provoke laughter in domestic theaters, removed all references to her.)
To describe all the differences between the Moroder version and the others here would require a full-length article by itself, but it should be evident that this version is in a category by itself. It is the most significant, "must see" Metropolis that has been made publicly available in the last seventy years, and currently my number one choice.
Kino video put out the best looking black-and-white print of Metropolis on a VHS tape in 1989, but it's incomplete and accompanied by some ungainly music. (No disc has been released as of this writing.) The quality of the image, though, is stunning-certainly comparable to Moroder's material, and worlds better than the battered prints seen on other tapes and discs. Neither the print source nor the synchronized music track are identified on the box. Run time is "90 minutes."
The Kino version has been shown
on the Turner Classic Movies channel where host Robert Osborne introduced
it as "the most complete version available." Sorry, Robert,
but that's just not so. In fact, the opposite is true. Kino is missing
the "stadium" scene, the "Maria and workers" compilation
shot, all of the scenes recovered by Moroder, and portions of various
scenes that are complete in other versions reviewed here. I also found
the music track to be a drawback, sounding as if someone picked out a
half-dozen clips of stock library music to use over and over throughout
the film. Action scenes are often brassy and loud, in a style similar
to a '50s TV detective show, while quieter moments are just a bit too
quiet. With considerable reservation, however, I have to rank Kino's
tape in second place solely on the strength of its print quality.
And what about all those other Metropolis tapes out there? Most of what you'll find on your (U.S.) retailers' shelves are as bad, or worse, than Madacy's DVD, produced from trashed, fuzzy prints that are a pain to watch and a disgrace to the movie. Budget-priced tapes from Goodtimes Video, Viking, and Simitar will be commonly encountered, but be forewarned: these do not have any sound! Such releases are an abomination. "Silent" films were never meant to be shown silent.
Returning to the new DVDs, there are some supplementary materials included that need mentioning and a little correcting. Madacy's on-disc material is mostly fluff, consisting of incomplete film credits, a picture of the original Metropolis poster, a silly trivia game, and a "biography" chapter that has only one person in it-Brigitte Helm. This last item has two errors: It gives Helm's birth name as "Brigitte," when in fact she was born Eva Gisela Schittenhelm. (Brigitte Helm was a film name bestowed on her when she signed to star in Metropolis.) The text also states that Helm first auditioned for Lang when she was "19," but most biographers agree that this took place early in 1924 when she was 17.
The CMH DVD has no extras on the disc itself, but comes with a booklet containing excellent photos and extensive (though uncredited) background text. I have only a few issues with the many facts presented. First of all, the cost of Metropolis is generally believed to be around five to six million marks, not "forty million." Secondly, the text mentions that the American version of the film is "ten reels" long, but the running time is then stated as an impossibly short "63 minutes." And finally (my last nit-pick), the age of Brigitte Helm when she died, in June of 1996, was 90 (not "88").
It should be obvious that the history of Metropolis will remain open, subject to revision as new versions emerge... and they will. Additional scenes which are documented to exist are not in any of these videos. At the very least, we need a reissue of the Moroder Metropolis-preferably on DVD, from a new transfer, with meaningful supplements. However, more reissues of the time-worn prints I've described here are likely to continue popping up in pretty wrappers, so it's best to scrutinize any new release-regardless of incentives like "digital mastering" or "Dolby surround"-with considerable caution.
Meanwhile, Metropolis, the film, as great and sprawling as its name implies, awaits a definitive reconstruction on video.
Reviewed by -Wesley G. Holt