M

This was my second time seeing Fritz Lang's masterpiece M for class, so I was able to further analyze Lang's vision for this influential psychological thriller. I had commented on some of the most brilliant aspects of the film, such as Hans Beckert's crimes being implied rather than shown, in my earlier review from last year; but this time around I gained further appreciation for the technical aspects and story. M was an early talkie, coming once the industry had almost fully transitioned to sound. Most early talkies were primitive, taking advantage of sound technology through dialogue and in musicals; M, however, uses sound in a much more atmospheric, innovative manner. Lang was among the first filmmakers to make sound design the forefront of dramatic tension and suspense. What we hear becomes a calling card for certain characters, especially the leitmotif of the child murderer Hans Beckert, whistling “In the Hall of the Mountain King”. It is set up very early on, right as he is buying balloons for his unsuspecting first victim, the little girl Elsie Beckmann. As soon as we hear the whistling, we have reason to be suspicious: this iconic sound motif has become a classic horror film and thriller trope. When the killer is coming for a victim, a piece of music is all we need to be deathly afraid. The film comments on sound cleverly as well, with the blind balloon seller being the most informed character in the whole story: him hearing the killer’s constant whistle helps get the police and townspeople to hunt him down. What we don’t hear in M is just as important as what we do hear. There are numerous prolonged moments of silence throughout, which are incredibly effective. Some of my classmates didn’t like some of these silent moments, but I disagree: in one moment early on, as the police are getting ready to raid a speakeasy, we hear no sound effects, even as we see cop cars getting by…. Only to be caught completely off guard by the bartender alerting the patrons of the police presence. The film’s moments of silence are a masterclass in building tension, with the sounds we hear after acting as an auditory jumpscare. Filling the theater with such a void of silence only makes these moments more nerve-wracking. The lack of a musical score, typical of early talkies, enhances this feeling of anxiety. Cinematography-wise, this was an unconventional film for its time, but a masterful one that foreshadowed the visual style of film noir. Even the daytime scenes, such as the chilling introduction to Hans Beckert, are baked in atmospheric noir shadows. Gritty nighttime scenes, such as when the police and beggars search the office building in which Hans Beckert hides, fill the screen with darkness. Reflections are also used in an original manner, such as when Hans Beckert sees a potential victim’s reflections in a store window. There are some fantastic, tasteful tracking shots and long takes as well, such as our introduction to the hideout of the powerful organized crime syndicate pursuing Beckert In the context of the German Expressionist film movement, this is a fascinating example: we are out of the surrealist fantasy of the horror films Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Nosferatu, the middle ground between sci-fi and realism in Lang’s just-as-good Metropolis, and into full-on gritty realism. Whether to call it an Expressionist work is debatable, since it is not grounded in the fantasy of earlier and even later Expressionist works, and in that respect, a clear turning point in World Cinema.  Lang even pulls a Citizen Kane before Citizen Kane, with opening credits only consisting of his name and a title card. An aspect of the film that has received some criticism, mainly from my classmates at the screening, was that there was no clear protagonist and no real character development. I think that this was intentional, to show the collective unity against Hans within the town, with cops and criminals alike ready to hunt him down and bring him to a kangaroo court. The two characters we focus the most on (besides Hans Beckert of course) are Inspector Lohmann and the Safecracker, on both sides of the law, but they can’t be considered definitive protagonists. It reminds me of Hitchcock’s Psycho, in that the most memorable character isn’t the protagonist, but the killer. And rather than instantly condemn or celebrate the mob mentality, Lang lets us decide whether all the fear was worth it. The constant fear around the killer is justifiable, given he is a mass child murderer and implied to be a pedophile, even if mob rule takes over in the end and does not grant Beckert a fair trial. Speaking of Beckert, let’s discuss the legendary Peter Lorre and his star-making role. He gives perhaps the best acting performance I have seen in an early talkie. For most of the runtime he has little to no dialogue, but his terrifying facial expressions and body language say it all. One chilling moment where he stares at a mirror and makes faces was a clear inspiration for the opening of Joker, another iconic menacing villain. Lorre’s iconic bug eyes are so expressive, vulnerable, and haunting: he is one of those character actors who became a major Hollywood star for a reason. With this lack of dialogue, his sudden, horrifying burst of emotion in his final, passionate monologue during the trial scene is some of the best acting I have ever seen in all of cinema. You can sense the sheer hopelessness of this character while he explodes in front of the angry mob. His grotesque crimes are irreversible, you hate him but you are just as disturbed by the ways the mob torments him. Lorre went on to have a long, storied career in Hollywood once he fled Nazi Germany (he was Jewish, so I can’t blame him), playing menacing villains in the great horror film Mad Love and most prominently in Maltese Falcon, but is still an underrated legend of Old Hollywood to this day. What really makes this a chilling film through and through is not what is shown onscreen, but what isn’t shown. We don’t see or hear the grisly details of Beckert’s crimes, but we are able to imagine in our heads just what a monster he is. This choice is perhaps due to heavy censorship in early cinema, but also makes the crimes more chilling in a way. All we see of the demise of Elsie Beckmann in the opening is the haunting image of her bouncing ball rolling through the grass in which she is killed. This image is all we need to know of the horrific deaths of innocent children. As Elsie’s mother says at the end, “Look out for the children.” M is a classic, creepy psychological thriller that has stood the test of time, and has justifiably stayed an influential film now.