The Golem’s Step Away from Expressionism
Note: This is the hundred-and-seventh 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 second favorite 1920 film, THE GOLEM: HOW HE CAME INTO THE WORLD, directed by Paul Wegener and Carl Boese.
Despite being commonly cited as an Expressionistic work, THE GOLEM: HOW HE CAME INTO THE WORLD may more accurately be described as Romantic. This contrarianism, which I found surprisingly but ultimately resonant, is a point brought up by The Revenant Review (I discovered this while doing some research on the film). I can’t claim credit for this idea. But I thought I’d like to explore the idea further, by looking at films also labeled Expressionist and THE GOLEM’s Romantic compatriots like Fritz Lang’s DIE NIBELUNGEN films (1924).
I wrote about THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1920) last week, oft-cited as the progenitor of the dramatic, chiaroscuro-steeped production style that defined German Expressionism. As with any classification, whether or not certain movies fit into “Expressionism” is up for debate. But if THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI, or indeed Expressionistic creations in other disciplines like visual art and architecture, are to be judged as the template, Expressionism is much narrower than I think is commonly perceived.
Certainly, there are elements of Expressionism found in THE GOLEM: HOW HE CAME INTO THIS WORLD. Of course, both Expressionism and Romanticism heighten reality, but as Revenant pointed out, THE GOLEM creates a more convincing reality. The design behind the film is still beautifully artificial, but it is placed squarely in time, unlike CALIGARI’s town and its residents’ clothing.
Long removed as the dominant artistic expression in Germany (it was at its peak at in the 1800s), Romanticism also manifested in gothic and bohemian traditions. In this way, THE GOLEM’s artistic inspirations seem clear. There’s no way of knowing exactly what influenced THE GOLEM’s production design (provided by Hans Poelzig), besides some Max Reinhardt love from co-director and star Paul Wegener. But quick Google searches find echoes from the work of Carl Gustav Carus and Carl Spitzweg, German Romantic painters who portrayed angular, vertical installations that bring to mind the impressively tall Jewish ghetto in which THE GOLEM is set.
The influence of German Romanticism on DIE NIBELUNGEN, the pair of phenomenal fantasy films directed by Fritz Lang, is even more apparent. In a way, THE GOLEM feels like a predecessor of the medieval energy of those films, although much more urban. It’s brighter than Expressionism typically allows. Its hints of darkness and exaggerated architecture, as well as its “horror” bent, clearly dovetail its Romantic elements into Expressionism, which is much more widely known and studied as far as it comes to German silent cinema. Perhaps it’s futile to directly assign a work of art to a broad definition. Nevertheless, I think it’s clear that the influences upon THE GOLEM are not exactly elements associated directly with Expressionism.
Its performances fit more in line what you can expect from a CALIGARI or a METROPOLIS (1927) or a NOSFERATU (1922), however. And Wegener himself, co-director and star of THE STUDENT OF PRAGUE (1913), turned out a proto-Expressionist film before the horrors of World War I that are often cited as the catalyst for the movement. You can’t rule out the cohesive revolution that was happening in German silent cinema. Wegener, who often turned to a collaborator when he took directing duties in hand, made the film with Carl Boese, a constant presence in the German film industry; he made 158 films from 1917 to 1957.
Henrik Galeen, writer of NOSFERATU and writer-director of the STUDENT OF PRAGUE remake (1926), co-wrote the screenplay with Wegener. Galeen also co-directed Wegener’s first attempt at the Golem legend, aptly titled THE GOLEM. The 1915 film was set in then-modern times, with the Frankensteinian creature rampaging through a different world. Wegener also co-directed a “sequel,” called THE GOLEM AND THE DANCING GIRL (1917), with Rochus Gliese, art director on, most notably, SUNRISE: A SONG OF TWO HUMANS (1927). This film, however, was a parody, featuring Wegener as an actor donning the Golem costume to impress a woman. This makes THE GOLEM: HOW HE CAME INTO THIS WORLD a “prequel” and the conclusion of an early film trilogy. These are loose titles, but it is impressive that Wegener turned to this concept in short succession; both previous films, by the way, are lost.
Adolf Steinrück stars as Rabbi Loew, a leader in a Jewish ghetto in medieval Prague who turns to the legend of the Golem to free his people from exile by the Holy Roman Emperor. Instead of setting loose his creation, brought to life in the film’s world by an impressive creation sequence filled with convincing special effects (and a spooky appearance by a demon), Loew uses the Golem as a servant and a tool to impress the court. When the Golem saves the Emperor’s court after they laughed too hard at the story of the Wandering Jew, bringing down the palace in the process, (yeah, I don’t know), the Emperor pardons the Jews and they can stay in the city.
But then the Golem starts to get a little too forceful, and Loew “deactivates” his creation. His assistant, however, is jealous of maid Miriam (played by Lyda Salmonova, Wegener’s frequent co-star and third/sixth wife) and her secret courtship with knight Florian. He reactivates the Golem, and through a series of events, the Rabbi’s tower burns down along with Florian and threatens to take the whole ghetto. Loew performs a spell to remove the demon Astaroth (who had possessed the Golem and was manipulating the destruction), and it leaves Miriam (who it had kidnapped) and leaves the city. It stumbles upon a group of children; only one is brave enough to stay and interact with the Golem. James Whale clearly took inspiration from this scene for FRANKENSTEIN (1931). The girl calmly plucks the star that animates the Golem from its chest, and it falls. The end.
I tell the whole tale because its clear approximation of an oral legend told for centuries feels, fittingly, like a fairy tale, warts and all. This is in keeping with THE GOLEM’s Romantic influences, as well as its Expressionistic acting. A clear overlap between THE GOLEM and CALIGARI is their residences in wholly different worlds, although THE GOLEM’s can be placed in history. Coincidentally, both feature compelling, iconic moments of awakening from a striking monster. Wegener’s Golem costume, by the way, is a bit goofy, but ultimately convincing as a stony figure, along with Wegener’s stoic performance.
As I mentioned in my piece on THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI, and as I’m sure I’ll mention in many of my upcoming essays on various silent German films, the fates of THE GOLEM’s cast during the rise and reign of Adolf Hitler are varied. Wegener was an actor of the state who, allegedly, attempted to help Jews by donating to resistance groups and hiding them in his apartment. After the war, he also worked on rebuilding cultural life in Berlin, playing the titular, Jewish character in a stage production of “Nathan the Wise.” Although THE GOLEM features some stereotypical portrayals of Jews, it is clearly favoring them and is sympathetic to their plight. Reconciling reports of his work during World War II and willingness to tell Jewish stories is just another facet of understanding German cinema of the era. Ernst Deutsch, the Jewish actor who played Loew’s assistant, fled Germany and, notably, acted in Carol Reed’s THE THIRD MAN (1949), as well as a stage production of “Nathan the Wise” in the title role. Lothar Müthel, knight Florian, directed the Burgtheater under Nazi rule. Galeen, a Jew, fled to Sweden in 1933 and eventually ended up in America. Stories like this swirl around everyone involved with THE GOLEM, as well as nearly every film produced in Germany at this time.
Ultimately, the film itself is a thrilling, visually compelling relocation to a sensationalized time period. THE GOLEM: HOW HE CAME INTO THIS WORLD is slower and not as striking as the popular Expressionist films of the day, but in keeping with its Romantic influences, its lasting impact is resonant for some time. It tells a fable with a message, and represents an artistic renaissance in Germany that would revolutionize film. Regrettably, it would be stamped out by fascism.
