Dr. Caligari

With all of the insane and colorful zest of a Douglas Sirk melodrama, the similarly unnatural bodily horror dysplazia of VIDEODROME, some incredibly witty, well written and razor-sharp dialogue to rival the likes of FASTER, PUSSYCAT KILL! KILL!! And even HEATHERS, finished off with equal parts ERASERHEAD. FORBIDDEN ZONE and THE CORPSE GRINDERS, the resulting abortion emerges as director Stephen Sayadian's brilliant, long overdue sequel (of sorts... not really, though!) to the 1919 classic German expressionist CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI, this more recent incarnation, also titled DR. CALIGARI, reaches such insanely overblown, expressionistic and unlikely comedic heighths, that it is an immensely bizarre and enjoyably welcome, diverting hoot of a bad acid trip that consistently veers off in the opposite direction from the atypical genre fare one might easily anticipate from such efforts, that it really does emerge as a wholly original and consistently first rate breath of fresh abstraction, quite apart, above and far beyond anything one might wish to compare it to... the mere fact that DR. CALIGARI was produced, released and exists at all justifies it as achieving meritorious mention as the unheralded and unsung art/sex/grindhouse classic that it truly is, rightly belonging alongside all those other, better known underground cult classics of the last fifty years, and, to my reasonably well-educated, informed cinematic estimation, is nothing short of a minor masterpiece and truly one of the very finest horror comedies in all of film history.... That being so firmly stated : UNLESS sustained representations of abnormal psychology and psychotic situations, every kind of aberrant sexuality, highly stylized instances of day-glo color schemes, synchronized avant-garde staging beyond any rational, functional or logical reasoning and some of the funniest, most ridiculously realized puns & double entendres ever to appear so intentionally, consistently rhythmic and delivered with such hyper-realized absurdist aplomb as you're ever likely to experience from any other title in the library of contemporary adult genre films... If any of that doesn't exactly sound like your particular cup of angel dust, then I would earnestly suggest that you definitely steer clear of this queer grand guignol melting pot of ideas, genres and psyches! Sure, the film is far from perfect, but hell, even SUNSET BOULEVARD had it's fair share of mis-steps!

Stephen Sayadian's "Dr. Caligari" (1989) is a phantasmagorical fever dream that plunges viewers into a world more disconcerting and distorted than the distorted sets of its silent film inspiration, "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari". This film is a testament to the enduring power of German Expressionism, a perverse pastiche of its visual and psychological hallmarks warped through a lens of '80s cult cinema sensibilities.

At the heart of this bizarre spectacle is the asylum of Dr. Caligari's granddaughter, a cold and clinical space saturated with lurid neon colors reminiscent of a warped Dick Tracy comic panel. Here, sexual deviance is not merely a pathology but the very subject of experimentation. The film's psychosexual explorations are brazen and exploitative, channeling a dark, camp energy that borders on the parodic.

Sayadian uses dialogue as a weapon of disorientation. Characters deliver absurdist, stilted lines with unnerving artificiality, their words less meaningful utterances than sonic textures adding to the film's unsettling atmosphere. This mockery of 'arty' pretension contributes to the film's blackly comedic tone, as does the gleeful revelry in its own exploitation.

While some might admire its visual boldness and thematic provocations, "Dr. Caligari" is undeniably a film of extremes. Its blend of jarring style, sexual explicitness, and absurdist humor isn't crafted for a broad audience. Those with stomachs for the bizarre, a taste for the transgressive, and a fondness for the stylistic legacy of German Expressionism will find this film an intoxicating, if deeply flawed, curiosity. It's a warped mirror reflecting both the anxieties and guilty pleasures of its era, a fever dream of psychosexual perversion that remains both repellent and oddly compelling.

This is the visual equivalent of an acid trip. A giant tongue attached to a wall licks a writhing lady. Another woman pops out of nowhere in various scenes saying "Chinchilla! Chinchilla!", then disappears. It is one of the most original movies I have ever seen, you are in for a very different experience if you can get your hands on a copy. You will never ever forget this one....

If there was ever an art-house film that existed, this would be it. In other reviews I've discussed the forays into artistic film-making made possible by the Expressionist movement of the 1920's. I've always thought of the 1980's as a decade that served as a revival in its own right, experimenting with abstract and surrealist qualities upon several mediums. Dr. Caligari serves as a possible end of this decade and the experimentation found within. I can discuss topics like New Romanticism from the 80's a bit more in depth but for some of you that might be as interesting as watching water boil.

This film borrows loosely from the original, and I do mean loosely. For one, Caligari is a woman – and hey, change is good – but why is she a sexual deviant? Two, there is mention of an insane asylum much like the 1920 version as well – but that's it. Everything is strewn about in a convoluted, nightmarish heap. Mrs. Van Houten suffers from extreme nymphomania and her husband, Les, seeks possible treatment at the hands of Dr. Caligari. After this small plot detail is established it's basically a free-for-all. There is symbolism portrayed at every turn. You can't make heads or tails of the dialog. Sexual content is found throughout, even more so than violence. The man responsible for the makeup of this film later went on to do the Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy - what an impressive resume he must have! Sexual gratuity wasn't innovative by 1989, but that isn't what makes this film visually comparative to the 1920 silent version.

This film was not shot in black and white, but the stark difference in contrasting colors and lighting techniques are more than similar to the Expressionist output 70 years earlier. This may have served as a point of brilliance had it not been for the sexual ridiculousness that followed. Literally, and I mean literally, everything in this film deals with sex on some level. I really have no idea why they decided to go down that avenue with a film like this – a name which held importance and value in cinema itself! I suppose it's no shock that the director of this version has been responsible for other "artsy" porn films as well, but why on Earth would you choose to dabble with Dr. Caligari? I wasn't offended by the topics explored – just mystified. Was that really the goal here? To take something that held value and make it laughable?

As with all films of this caliber, it has a considerable cult following. If you're an art house fan that doesn't mind trashy, exploitative themes of violence and sexual content, this may be your lucky day. Make no mistake; aside from visual similarities, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari and Dr. Caligari are two very different films.

I first saw this movie when I was about 14. I didn't really get it. It was definitely...different. Anyway, years later I had help from Mr.Leary's friend and finally figured out what it was about. It's about screwing with your head and making you enjoy it. Great impressionist sets and lighting. Truly bizarre acting and dialogue. Sometimes someone will just pop out of the bottom of the frame, say something and then drop back out of frame. The days of enhancing my viewing experiences are over, but I carry many fond memories of this film with me. Good luck finding a copy...a used one is your best bet.