Faust

To fans of early horror, director F.W. Murnau is best known for 'Nosferatu, eine Symphonie des Grauens,' his chilling 1922 vampire film, inspired by Bram Stoker's famous novel. However, his equally impressive 'Faust' is often overlooked, despite some remarkable visuals, solid acting, a truly sinister villain, and an epic tale of love, loss and evil. The story concerns Faust (Gösta Ekman), an old and disheartened alchemist who forms a pact with Satan's evil demon, Mephisto (Emil Jannings). As God and the Devil wage a war over Earth, the two opposing powers reach a tentative agreement: the entire fate of Mankind will rest on the soul of Faust, who must redeem himself from his selfish deeds before the story is complete.

Relying very heavily on visuals, 'Faust' contains some truly stunning on screen imagery, most memorably the inspired shot of Mephisto towering ominously over a town, preparing to sow the seeds of the Black Death. A combination of clever optical trickery and vibrant costumes and sets makes the film an absolute delight to watch, with Murnau employing every known element – fire, wind, smoke, lightning – to help produce the film's dark tone. Double exposure, in which a piece of film is exposed twice to two different images, is used extremely effectively, being an integral component in many of the visual effects shots. In fact, aside perhaps from Victor Sjöström's 'Körkarlen (1921),' I can't remember double exposure being used to such remarkable effect.

It's often difficult to judge performances in a silent film, but I've certainly got a generally positive attitude towards the acting in 'Faust.' I was particularly astonished by Gösta Ekman, whose character, given limitless evil control, is transformed from a withering old man to a handsome youth. Despite my impression that two different actors had been used, it seems that Ekman convincingly portrayed both the old and young man, which is a credit to both the actor and Murnau's make-up department (namely, Waldemar Jabs). Emil Jannings plays Mephisto with a sort of mysterious slyness, always one step ahead and always up to no good. Whilst I wasn't completely blown away by young actress Camilla Horn as Gretchen – the woman with whom Faust falls in love – her acting is adequate enough, and she certainly shows some very raw emotion in the scene's final act, when her forbidden romance with Faust sends her life in a downward spiral.

'Faust' was F.W. Murnau's final film in Germany, his next project being the acclaimed American romance, 'Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927).' At the time, the film was the most expensive ever made by the German studio, UFA (Universum Film AG), though it would be surpassed the following year by Fritz Lang's classic science-fiction epic, 'Metropolis.' Notably, there were five substantially different versions of 'Faust' produced, several of these by the director himself: these include a German original version, a French version, a late German version, a bilingual version for European audiences, and an American cut compiled by Murnau especially for MGM in July 1926. Each of these altered particular scenes and camera angles, and often included material that would be more relevant to the target cultural audience (for example, the US version reportedly contains a joke about the American Prohibition era).

At the heart of 'Faust' is a love story between the corrupted title character and his doomed love, Gretchen. I felt that the scenes when Faust is trying to coax Gretchen into loving him were the slowest parts of the film, much less exciting and invigorating than the darker and more effects-driven sequences that preceded and followed it. Nevertheless, F.W. Murnau's 'Faust' is an absolute gem of 1920s silent horror, and anybody who doesn't look out for it is very surely missing out on something special.

By 1925 UFA, German cinema's pioneer production company, was almost collapsing under the weight of mounting financial difficulties, having lost over eight million dollars in the fiscal year just ended. It was at this point that American film studios found the perfect opportunity they've been looking for to finally defeat their one opponent in the market of continental Europe. It was ironic that a film industry born out of the necessity of WWI and Germany's inability to provide American, British or French films in the years between 1914 and 1919 would go on to become Hollywood's number one opponent. Indeed Paramount and MGM offered to subsidize UFA's huge debt to the Deutsche Bank by lending it four million dollars at 7.5 percent interest in exchange for collaborative rights to UFA's studios, theaters, and personnel - an arrangement which clearly worked in the American companies' favor. The result was the foundation of the Parufamet (Paramount-UFA-Metro) Distribution Company in early 1926.

This is only tangential to FAUST but important nonetheless to place the film in its correct historical context. Both as FW Murnau's last German film before he left for Hollywood and as UFA's most expensive production to that date. It is no wonder that within a year of accepting Hollywood as business partners, UFA was already showing losses of twelve million dollars and was forced to seek another loan, when FAUST, a film that cost them 2 million dollars alone and took six months to film only made back half of its budget at the box office. FAUST would go on to be succeeded by Fritz Lang's METROPOLIS as the most expensive German production but it remained FW Murnau's aufwiedersehen to Weimar cinema. He was one of many German film artists and technicians that migrated to sunny California following the Parufamet agreement (Fritz Lang would follow a few years later, having refused Goebbels' offer to lead the national film department for Nazi Germany, along with others like Paul Leni, Billy Wilder, Karl Freund and Ernst Lubitsch).

Weimar cinema wouldn't make it past the 1930's and FW Murnau's career would come to an abrupt end with his death at 42 in a car accident, but FAUST, as the last German production, not only in nationality, but also in style and finesse, definitely deserves its place next to 1922's NOSFERATU in the pantheon of German Expressionism. Frontloaded in terms of spectacle and dazzling visuals, this retelling of Goethe's classic version of Dr. Faust's story is as slow paced and dark as Nosferatu but with the kind of fantastic, mystical and romantic blend that characterized German post-war cinema. A cinema aimed at repressed lower middle-classes which, in the absence of a national identity swept away by war, were now turning to a new cultural identity conscious of the social realities of the times. In that sense, Murnau's Faust is part escapism spectacle, part edifying fable on the corruption of evil and the redeeming qualities of love and forgiveness.

And if the story is overwrought melodrama by today's standards, the magnificent sets constructed by UFA technicians and special effects work stand shoulder to shoulder with some of the best from the 20's. Mephisto looming black and gigantic over a town swept by plague is an iconic image etched on the same pantheon wall of German Expressionism as Count Orlok's shadow. The angels of death riding on their horses with beams of light shooting through them combines the dark fantasy of the production design with expressive lighting, the kind of which would eventually become shaped into film noir by directors like Otto Preminger and Fritz Lang. Gösta Ekman as Faust (superbly made-up as an old man to make even Welles green with envy) and Emil Jannings as Mephisto stand out among the cast.

My first silent film lasted over two hours. Dialog full of screens after everything's been said. To be honest, I was surprised at how there was never a point of down, there was never a realization that I was watching a silent film, though it did take a bit of getting used to in the beginning. Some might get pushed away due to the fact that the screen transfer isn't great, or that the music has been recently dubbed, but I found it all to fit perfectly. The acting in this film is more than over expectation, that made me believe in the story from start to finish. By the end I had a new found admiration for the makers of movies from our past, and what standards they can set for movies now.

I think of Murnau's Faust as a masterpiece not only of cinema, but of the human imagination. I understand that reviews at the time of its premier were lukewarm, but I honestly can't imagine not feeling grateful for the opportunity to see this film today. Moments and images from it are so powerful, they are vivid in the mind years after seeing them -- two hours in a dream world.

The flying sequence has been commented-on more than once, and with good reason. It is a spectacular series of shots wherein the camera tracks through long miniature sets which gradually change from a dense cluster of medieval rooftops and steeples, to a tortuous countryside of mountain peaks and snake-like rivers, twisted trees, deep gorges with plunging waterfalls and stone cliffs, rapids, a field of long grass, elaborate renaissance architecture and an Italianate palace. Along the way there is an encounter with grotesque elongated black birds in the sky, their wings flapping in unison. The sets incorporate running water (with little bits of smoking material floating in the rapids to simulate splashes and spray), an illuminated moon, and smoke to simulate clouds and fog. The whole sequence can't be much more than a couple of minutes long, but the effort to design, construct and coordinate the sequence must have been staggering. The following palace scene is set on a huge multi-level set with female dancers stretching off into the distance. They are there for no better reason than to establish an atmosphere of sumptuous decadence, and young Faust arrives in the middle of this riding between two enormous elephants, which seem to be entirely artificial and crafted of fabric, wire, etc. So it goes throughout the production. Almost every scene is a feast for the eyes, and the darker scenes are vividly expressionistic in design.

The acting is the old-fashioned silent-movie variety of big operatic gestures and vivid facial expression. It may seem odd to those not used to it, but it is NOT an example of ham actors overdoing it. This was a legitimate style of acting in its time, and offers genuine artistic beauty to those who can manage to appreciate it.

The fact that there seems to be no video version of `Faust' at the time of this posting is criminal. Ditto for Murnau's "Sunrise." These things should NEVER be out of print.

A lyrical fable version of Goethe's famous story, where Mephisto and an angel gamble with Faust's spirit, the entire film has an aura of delicate beauty. When Faust's town is shrouded with a pestilence, Faust summons Mephisto and agrees to a trial selling of his soul, in the hopes that he can save the townspeople. When Faust does indeed cure the town, Mephisto tempts him with the promise of youth and Gretchen, the most beautiful woman in Italy. Misty, often eerie, fiendish imagery, like satanic birds, hooded men, flying horsemen and Caligari-inspired exteriors fill the screen. When Faust signs his contract, the words burn themselves into the page as Mephisto dips his feather pen in Faust's vein. A wonderful touch near the beginning has Faust trying to escape Mephisto but having him appear wherever he goes, always a few steps ahead. Both Faust, as a young man, and Gretchen are lovely, and Jannings gives an excellent performance as the Dark Prince. A masterpiece of poetic atmosphere that ages Murnau's technical mastery wondrously, the film is aided tremendously by the sometimes ominous, sometimes enchanting orchestral score. 10/10