German filmmaker Fritz Lang remains best known on these
shores for his hugely influential 1927 silent film Metropolis, which mixed bold and at times strange allegorical
elements with a cautionary tale of science run amok. Its style and production
design would remain highly influential upon European and American directors
alike for generations to come, trace elements finding their way into sci-fi
masterpieces like Blade Runner as
well as a slew of futuristic tales leery of big government. Lang’s first
release with sound, however, came four years later with the penultimate
psychological thriller M. And
courtesy of a beautiful, newly restored digital transfer from Criterion
presented in its original aspect ration of 1.19:1, along with a wealth of extra
features that plumb and codify its importance, this landmark achievement stands
ready to finally inherit the reputation it so richly deserves.
Brooding and richly atmospheric, M has at its core all the salaciousness of
ripped-from-the-headlines entertainment. Loosely based on a series of grisly real-life
German murders, Lang and then-wife Thea von Harbou fashioned a story that on
the surface must have seemed to capture uncannily the zeitgeist and mood of the
modern day — the Jack the Ripper tale of its time. Tone is everything, however,
and Lang’s artful construction of M
is meticulous, exacting and of a piece with Metropolis,
with many allegorical elements that render the film a grander humanistic parable.
M
tells the story of a child murderer, Hans Beckert (Peter Lorre), who wanders
the streets of
young girls with promises of candy and balloons. Lorre (
mesmerizing and wholly memorable performance. Part of it is steeped in overt
theatricality, yes, but his marriage of confusion and rage goes a long way
toward capturing the duality of a diseased criminal mind.
On Beckert’s trail is Inspector Karl Lohmann (Otto
Wernicke). Lang doesn’t show the murders, of course, but instead merely indicates
them with spare master shots of empty streets. The ensuing panic plays as an
extra character; fear hangs over the proceedings like a low, enveloping fog as Lang
showcases paranoia and a mob mentality gripping an increasingly fearful public
rather than tell his story strictly through a small, set number of characters. The sound design alone is enough to at times give you goose bumps.
As with almost all of their titles, Criterion’s supplemental features are
like answers to prayers you didn’t even know you made, contextualizing the film
and its importance while also not failing to humanize it. First up is a
very interesting if understandably academic-leaning commentary track by German
film scholar Eric Rentschler, author of The Ministry of Illusion: Nazi
Cinema and Its Afterlife, and Anton Kaes, author of the BFI
Film Classics volume on M. The duo are obviously extremely
knowledgeable about not only the movie and Lang’s career, but German film in
general, and thusly elucidate the movie’s themes as well as the state of the
German union at the time of its making.
The second disc holds an
abundance of unique features, including a 50-minute interview with Lang, filmed
in 1974 and conducted by fellow filmmaker William Friedkin (The French Connection); Claude Chabrol’s
M:
le Maudit, a short film based on Lang’s movie that was part of a French television series that
offered up miniaturized versions of classic films; audio classroom tapes of M editor Paul Falkenberg discussing the
movie and its history with film school students; a stills gallery with
behind-the-scenes photos and production sketches; and A Physical History of M,
which showcases some of the changes and cuts that were made to the film over
the years in various release incarnations.
The restored
black-and-white video transfer is also a beautiful thing, detailed exhaustively
on a featurette that covers the restoration. While the film’s original aspect
ratio of 1.19:1 doesn’t fully extend across standard television sets (it originally
allowed space for an optical soundtrack alongside the projected image), it’s
nicely framed here. Wrapping things all together is a 32-page booklet with an essay
by critic Stanley Kauffman, the script for a missing scene which may have
actually been shot but removed by the censor board, a 1963 interview with Lang,
an essay the filmmaker wrote for a German newspaper just prior to M’s release and other prima facie material from the early
1930s. A (Movie) A (Disc)