The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is the product of a post World War I germany and the minds of Carl Meyer and Hans Janowitz. The film is one of the most famous of all times and a landmark horror piece. The picture tells the tale of a mad scientist who conceives a plan of controlling the mind of another so that he will they will do his bidding - even murder. This idea was unheard of in the 1920s, but with Robert Wiene as director, it would become a smashing success.



The film begins with the protagonist, Francis, (Friedrich Feher), mid conversation with a stranger in his garden. As he begins his tale, the scene begins to fade into a memory. It is revealed that the stranger is Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss) for whom the film is named. He has recently come to town, bringing with him Cesare (Conrad Veidt), a sleepwalker. In the days after there arrival, many of the townspeople met their untimely demise, causing rumors and suspicion to spread. Francis’s best friend was one of those who had died, and so he had begun to investigate, which of course leads him into great peril.

 

Finally, when Francis’s girlfriend Jame (Lil Dagover) is put into danger, the film is hurried along to a climax that anyone could have guessed (which in case you can’t I won’t reveal here) creating the feeling of a slow moving plot. When the rising action meets all of your expectations, the climax can seem a little bland, but it is important to remember the value of this film as a landmark. That being said, the film seems a bit too obvious even for the time.

For instance, it seems a little clear from the get go that the Dr is controlling his sleepwalker in order to commit murders. This detracts from some of the mystery and makes the rest of the film rather predictable even for audiences then. When Jane, the stereotypical pretty woman, is introduced, you’re basically counting the minutes until she’s attacked to introduce the damsel in distress narrative. Again, however, the film was produced in 1919 and these tropes may have been novel, even new to audiences at that time. An appreciation for modern film shouldn’t detract from the film: it should enhance it by revealing to you where modern film techniques originated. This is particularly true for The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.

 

The set was designed by Walter Rohrig and Reimann and Hermann Warm and consisted of a 2D backdrop painted on canvas. When people traverse this 2D plane, it can become confusing to the viewers eye - making the characters seem rather off balance. To add insult to injury, the flashback sequences are filmed in German Expressionist style typical of the time: full of strange angles and asymmetrically trending lines. The shadows also seemed overdone and dramatic to the point of extremism. I have to imagine the audience even then noticed this as objects seem to “float” with no space underneath them in some of the darker scenes.



Much like Frankenstein, the acting is wildly exaggerated. The actors seem almost as disoriented and extreme as their set, which contrasts nicely with the bland plot. They all act out their roles sharply. The tall sleep walker seems to blend with the dark shadows in his dark clothes. Dr. Caligari seems wild and controlling: clearly the only pulling the strings. Francis, the stoic hero.





So now for the super surprise twist ending I’ve been saving all along. Spoiler alert ahead so you’ve been warned. Our hero Francis? Insane all along. The garden in the opening scene seemed a little walled in, didn’t it? That’s because Francis is in a mental institution along with Cesare and Jane. Oh and Dr. Caligari, the evil puppet master? He’s actually the chief physician at the hospital who believes he can heal Francis of his delusions. While this seems a little trite by today's standards, we have to remember that this was 1919 and audiences at that time would have been absolutely shocked. They didn’t have twilight zone back then, and so plots like this were non-existent. Because of this, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari has stood the test of time as a benchmark for horror and a landmark for general film history.