I encountered Dr. Mabuse in the 1958 book, “Film as Art,” written by Rudolf Arnheim. I’d found this little gem in a used book store across the street from the Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia on which I’d been writing a piece at the time. The penitentiary is an odd place, creepy in its decommissioned state. Al Capone was incarcerated there once. His cell has been preserved with his comfy bed, tasseled lamps, writing desk. I guess he was a man of letters. Just joking. His cell looks quite habitable and I can understand why people are turning old jails and prisons into destinations. These places are right up there with weighted blankets in their therapeutic claustrophobia-induceingness. I guess. At any rate, they’re all the rage now .
Although published in 1958, the essays in this book were written in the early 30s and so they’re a look back at what the experts had to say about film technique in those early days. The author mentions an interesting shot in Dr. Mabuse. It’s a sort of manual zoom-in. I wanted to see what he meant, but he doesn’t specify which Dr. Mabuse. There are three made by Fritz Lang of Metropolis fame alone. And countless other versions by other directors. Apparently the good doctor was quite popular, but I had never heard of him.
And that’s a shame because Dr. Mabuse turned out to be quite the delight.
I found the first two Lang films on Youtube. Dr. Mabuse the Gambler is a silent made in 1922 and is 4 ½ hours long. Yikes! In this film we see Dr. Mabuse in various disguises as moves through his enterprises: a counterfeiting operation where the workers are locked in a vault, card gambling, and encounters with a famous vaudevillian who is under his spell. Through it all Dr. Mabuse uses his strange powers of hypnotism to get what he wants.
The Testament of Dr. Mabuse from 1933, was a mere two hours in length. Since I was mostly just looking for a certain filmic technique, I opted to watch this one, hoping I could spot it in this later version. In this film Dr. Mabuse’s various activities are carried out by a gang of thieves, one of whom is a good guy trying to redeem himself. We never see Dr. Mabuse. He gives his orders from behind a curtain.
I was blown away from the very first scene of Testament when I saw the jumping lamp shades, bottles, and cabinetry, an effect I suppose signifying the setting was in an industrial area. Or maybe it was near the train tracks. Dunno, but it was lovely.
I usually expect old films to be dreary: poorly lit, silent, with stilted dialog and over acting. This film was not that. It was captivating with beautiful special effects, lighting, and sets. And sound! I should not have been surprised. It’s Fritz Lang after all.
There’s one scene that makes viewing this film worth it, even if you’re not fond of old films. Let me set the stage for you. Do you remember Guillermo del Toro’s Shape of Water ? It won four Academy Awards, including Best Picture, in 2018. There’s a fantastic scene where the main couple are trapped in a bathroom. They stop up the drains and cram a towel at the crack of the door. They open all the water spigots and the room fills with water. At the last moment the door bursts open and the contents of the room gush out.
It’s a beautiful scene almost certainly stolen from Jeunet et Caro’s Delicatessen, released back in 1991. Here the main couple trapped in a bathroom stop up the drains and cram a towel at the crack of the door. They open all the water spigots and the room fills with water. At the last moment the door bursts open and the contents of the room gush out. Find a quick comparison of these two show-stopping scenes here.
I still marvel at the water busting through the door and cascading down the spiral staircase. This is why I go to the movies: so I can see somebody do something I would love to do but can’t. Who wouldn’t want to turn their home into a swimming pool?
Delicatessen is one of my all-time favorite films and that scene might be the reason why. Imagine my delight when the scene showed up at the crisis point in The Testament of Dr. Mabuse. I marvel at the director’s chutzpah. How did he do it way back then? Nowadays everything is CGI and nothing is impossible. Back in 1933 if you wanted a room filled to the brim with water, you had to hook up the fire hose and hope the camera stays dry.
So I loved the second film and decided to take a crack at the first one. Like I said: it was four and a half hours long. And it was silent and murky like those old-time movies are. Nevertheless, I found it to be as delightful as the later film. Is it overwritten? Yes. Could it be shorter? Sure. Does the story make sense? Not really, but then horror stories never do. I couldn’t figure out the mechanism for hypnotism. There was no looking at the gold watch, stripes on the bed, or as in “Little Britain,” Kenny Craig repeating “Look into my eyes, look into my eyes, look into my eyes,” in satiric rapid-fire.
In neither of the Dr. Mabuse movies is it clear what it is that makes the victims do Dr. Mabuse’s bidding. He seems to be sending nefarious thoughts through the ether. Or something. In the second movie, the incredulous is carried to the extreme when the good doctor, who has now gone insane and in fact died, is controlling his one-time psychotherapist through a set of left behind notes. I love nonsense like that. It’s so impossible it has to be true.
The first film tends toward a German Expressionist style. Not quite like Dr. Caligari, but in the interiors you see improbable furniture, wall art, and accoutrements. It’s all dark, angular, and weird. With a great sound track!
There’s this one image that sticks with me. Dr. Mabuse stands in the doorway of a darkened room. We can just see the outline in the foreground of…something. Then he switches on the light and you see a marvelous, opulent Art Nouveau bed. It looks like a sleigh that might carry a load of baby Cupids. It’s a fantastic scene and I WANT THAT BED!!!
I could go on and on about these films created during the chaos of Germany post WWI. I’m not an expert on social commentary, but I saw this character — who seems motivated by nothing but a desire to spread confusion and possibly the end of civilization — as a sort of maniacal political beast. Dr. Mabuse himself seemed confused as to why he was doing what he was doing. He had good thoughts and bad thoughts, but he didn’t know why. A true mad scientist: pure evil, yet oddly self-aware.
Dr. Mabuse’s fictional mantra seemed to be “destroy the world; it’s messed up.” And then surprise! Along came Hitler to try just that. He said he was inspired by the punitive Versailles Treaty. Perhaps the true story is he was under Dr. Mabuse’s sway.
I’m joking of course, but this all brings to mind our modern day bloggers on the Internet, intent on riling up the peoples for the sake of more followers, hits, and likes. These blatherers spread fear and panic, only because they can and it’s good for advertising revenue. People, calm down! Use your common sense. Do not be a victim of those looking to control you! You are being hypnotized as part of some Internet content provider’s manifesto. No one is worshipping the devil or eating babies. The opposition party is not part of a powerful cabal looking to take over/destroy the world.
Creators have been making this stuff up since before Dr. Mabuse, but with the advent of TV and the Internet, these ridiculous ideas have gone virally bonkers. You all need to stop looking at your phones for a few minutes. At least once a day, go outside, check your surroundings. There’s no man in the high tower, no smoldering ruins. Just sunshine and flowers. Take a breath of God’s air. Relax.
If you truly are afraid to go outside, take a break from the madding crowd and watch the Mabuse films: Dr. Mabuse, the Gambler (Might want a couple of sessions for that one), and The Testament of Dr. Mabuse. Maybe you’ll find something more believable than what you’re reading on your favorite polemical site.
Speaking of films, my pal Santo has a new one he’s cooking up: Il Mio Posto a Tavola. It’s a documentary about his journey through the issues of abandonment and loneliness that come with adoption. Check ‘er out.
See you at the movies.
Sue Lange
Author, We Robots, a story of AI
Discover more from Lange Unfocused
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Lange Unfocused 