The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari was the first silent film I have ever seen, so it was quite a unique experience. As demonstrated by this film (as well as by the scene in Battleship Potemkin), in the absence of sound cues or dialogue, other elements become increasingly important in setting the tone of the story. The role of the music, for instance, was greatly heightened in directing the viewer’s emotions and reactions to each scene. However, it was the visual elements of the film that I found the most interesting and so it is on these that I will primarily focus.
As dialogue was unavailable, the roles of the characters were conveyed predominantly through their appearance with the use of greatly exaggerated makeup and costumes. Jane, for example, is instantly established as pure and ethereal by her flowing white dress and long cascading hair. Meanwhile, Dr. Calligari is immediately understood as the story’s villain with his black cloak and dark makeup, and Cesare’s tight black garments and pale complexion confirm his identity as a monstrous, almost sub-human, figure.
The distorted and unnatural mise-en-scenes, filled with strong angles, jagged lines, and large menacing shapes, helped to establish a wild and ominous mood throughout the film. In fact, the constructed town landscape, with its caricature houses and streets, was more reminiscent of the painted settings used in theater productions than of film, which typically attempts to capture reality. For instance, rather than having the buildings and houses stand upright at a perfect right angle to the earth’s surface, the director had them constructed at strange angles, slanting forward and side-to-side. Another extreme example is the scene after Cesare kidnaps Jane in which he carries her up a hill. The distorted artistic elements that made up the mise-en-scenes portrayed the feelings of disharmony and mental uncertainty that the director sought to create. Together, these aspects of the film lent it a distinctly bizarre and dreamlike quality that created the sensation that the viewer was indeed witnessing the delusions of a madman.
While watching the film, it was impossible to ignore the countless parallels between it and Shutter Island. The protagonists in both films are in search of truth, but through a twist-ending realize that they themselves are patients at a mental institution; the antagonists in both films turn out to be the Doctor at the institution; both films utilize surrealist elements to create a sense of mental uncertainty. It was these uncanny similarities that led me to question whether yet another, although far less obvious, similarity may exist as well.
In Shutter Island, it is eventually revealed that the protagonist is in the mental institution because he was unable to overcome the guilt he experienced after his mentally unstable wife murdered their children, for which he feels personally responsible. Interestingly, in the Cabinet of Dr. Caligari the reason why Francis is a patient at the mental institution remains unknown. Moreover, the identity of the murderer of Francis’s friend, Alan, is never actually confirmed—it is merely assumed that the man responsible is Cesare. Consider, for a moment, that it is also explained at the beginning of the story that both Francis and Alan are deeply in love with the same woman and are simultaneously competing for her affection. Perhaps one interpretation of the film’s ending is that it was Francis who in fact murdered Alan in an effort to eliminate any threat to his ability to win the woman he loves, and as in the case of Shutter Island, was driven to madness in which his delusions are a manifestation of his unrelenting guilt.
I leave the question open to the class of whether there is any merit to this idea whatsoever, or whether it is too far-fetched.
Engaging Cinema at Tech 