Power Corrupts All: The Message of Algol
Note: This is the hundred-and-tenth in a series of historical/critical essays examining the best in film from each year. Essentially, I am watching films from the beginning of cinematic history that interest me and/or hold some critical or cultural impact. My personal, living list of favorites is being created at Mubi, showcasing five films per year. All this being explained, what follows is an examination of my fifth favorite 1920 film, ALGOL, directed by Hans Werckmeister.
There are films from the era of German Expressionism, the dominant school of silent film in the Weimar Republic throughout the 1920s, that are often categorized as part of the movement due to select moments. THE GOLEM: HOW HE CAME INTO THE WORLD (1920) is one of those. ALGOL is another. But these movies do not directly fall into the definition that many consider set forth by THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1920); but then, not much does. That’s the very paradox of Expressionism, one of the most cited cinematic movements, not even just specifically of the silent era. There aren’t even really that many “Expressionist” movies, which may be a moot point. I’ve written about this already as it pertained to THE GOLEM. The labels probably aren’t important.
But the influence and proliferation of certain visual styles, moods, and themes are important, psychologically influenced manifestations of a country in flux, as Germany was after World War I. To that extent, ALGOL certainly fits the mold that it’s been placed to, even if its mise en scène isn’t explicitly dramatized or extreme, with a few exceptions. But ALGOL’s socialist message is radical.
The film is a humanitarian treatise, a populist document. “Populist” is a tricky word, as it has been assigned to left and right-wing causes in the past and currently, and of course, the German context may sound a ring of National Socialism. Only uneducated hucksters try to conflate Nazism with socialism, however, and ALGOL should not be considered a predecessor of the sentiments associated with Adolf Hitler and the Nazi party.
Even still, let’s play one of my favorite games when it comes to pre-1933 German cinema: how many of the people who worked on this film were fucked over or killed by the Nazis and how many aided the regime in their work? And by “let’s play one of my favorite games,” I mean “let’s look at one of the most unsettling and disappointing components of some of the most compassionate and artistic works of their time.”
- I’m really not able to find much information about director Hans Werckmeister. IMDB lists 26 directorial credits, of which ALGOL is certainly the most notable; apparently he died in 1929, so who knows where his future in the changing German political landscape would have ended up.
- Star Emil Jannings’ story has been told before. One of the greatest actors of the silent generation became a Third Reich collaborator, starring in Nazi propaganda films. He was subjected to denazification and died in 1950.
- John Gottowt, the titular alien character and also a star of NOSFERATU (1922), was Jewish. His brother-in-law was Henrik Galeen, who was able to escape Germany. Gottowt was banned from acting in 1933, moved to Denmark then Poland, and was ultimately murdered by the SS in 1942.
- Hans Adalbert Schlettow also played Hagen in Fritz Lang’s inimitable DIE NIBELUNGEN films (1924). Schlettow was a Nazi though, and died during the Battle of Berlin in 1945.
There were of course more of the cast and crew that lived through the rise of Hitler and World War II, but these are the most notable stories. They illustrate the ultimate, reviled direction of Germany. But in this work, and others, these collaborators created a film that railed against totalitarianism and the exploitation of workers. ALGOL is an empathetic film.
Part of ALGOL’s impact on me came through the iffy quality of the print I was able to watch, another important aspect of discovering obscure films. ALGOL was long thought to be a lost film, but has only resurfaced in recent years through screenings and uploads online. So the very act of watching it feels like an otherworldly coincidence, like discovering an unsought gem. You know the experience of finding something lesser known. So the circumstances of watching ALGOL put you in a place of slight bewilderment, or at least it did for me. And then throughout its 110-ish minute run time, the film meanders a bit too much, taking a slightly underwhelming pace that nevertheless serves to illustrate the economic and democratic ideals of its ostensible “science fiction” story.
Alright, here’s that story. Jannings plays coal mine worker Robert Herne, who has a romantic friendship with Hanna Ralph’s Maria Obal; Jannings and Ralph were just married in 1920. Out of nowhere, Gottowt’s lanky, somewhat aloof Algol appears to Herne in the mine, telling him that the extraterrestrial is from the star of the same name and is there to provide Herne with a machine that can provide unlimited power. Algol’s motives are never made perfectly clear, besides being a sort of Satanic figure of chaos, and he’s not truly a central character beyond setting things in motion.
Herne becomes a mogul who ends up providing power to almost every nation in the world. Twenty years into this arrangement, his lapsed relationship with Maria comes back into his life. Maria has a son who travels to Herne to ask for help; you see, he and his mother live in the only country/part of the world not controlled by Herne’s power-providing machine(s). Maria eventually visits Herne as well, convincing him that his power is corrupting him and leading the world into economic ruin. All the while, Herne’s own son has been scheming to take control of the machine himself.
It should be noted that ALGOL does not especially concern itself with the machinations of, well, the machine. It’s in a centralized location yet provides power to the whole world and Herne is the only one who has had access to it in an entire 20 year span (through a hallway that remains the film’s only out loud Expressionist statement). The movie is a theoretical experiment, postulating the effects of technology that could decimate the workforce of an otherwise thriving industry. See, and this is where the populism comes in. Sounds familiar, especially as it concerns coal?
In this way, ALGOL can seem regressive. But its makers could not yet envision a world that supported citizens in manners other than allowing them to work themselves to death in coal mines. Oh, the film is certainly sympathetic to them; it acknowledges life cannot go on that way. In fact, that’s part of why Jannings’ Herne is sympathetic. Wouldn’t you have taken the chance that was presented to him, to avoid a life of backbreaking monotony and relative poverty?
But his reign, such as it is, does not relieve these conditions from others. ALGOL makes clear that the dream of capitalism, which can allow one from the lower rungs of society to rise to the top, does not make for a harmonious world. It can make for a controlled world, one that fits into the considerations of those at the top, but not a harmonious one. It just so happens that the film uses a miraculous invention and a dictatorial figure to illustrate this point even more broadly, simplifying the whole affair to make its intentions clear.
The film’s sometimes subtitle, TRAGEDY OF POWER, is a little on-the-nose. As mentioned, ALGOL has a bit of meandering pace, and numerous slow points render it less effective. But ultimately, its theme is clear. Power should not be used to control the world. It should be used to elevate the world. It uses the dynamics of labor to more eloquently communicate this concept, by way of some weirdo images and a progressive sci fi premise. ALGOL is not a masterpiece by any means, but it’s a worthwhile gem of German silent cinema with a lesson for the ages.
