A tedious Annoucement

Ok, this is the week of hell. I have my applications due, my SAT subject tests, and my college film class final exam, and IB English assignment and then......i'm done. I'm pretty much going to no longer be desperatly writing essays. I mean, school work will still be draining my time but honestly, I like to write and i hope to be able to churn out more articles and give this blog the attention it deserves. This is going to be part of my college application process as an example of my work and I really want to focus more energy on both D&D articles, which i've drifted away from and movie reviews that aren't as massive as some of mine. I am aware that i write alot which can be intimidating, but i like to cover all the bases. Anyways, good show
from
EE

The seven things i want from film/what is M

M

Right, for those of you who saw my massive essay, and were like “what is he talking about” I feel like I should in good conscious write a review of one the best movies ever made, M by Germany’s very own Fritz Lang, the man who essentially invented Film Noir. M was his first silent film and his own personal favorite film, made in 1931 a little before Hitler took power. Now, reviewing M is awkward because in all honesty, it is much better than Citizen Kain, and about as complex, so any review inevitable goes into a morass of film related tedium as I try to sum up the massive amount of genius contained in this movie. So quick summery for those of you who don’t want to have any spoilers and don’t want to listen to my massive film rants, as you can see those in my other article.

M is set in a nameless German city, most likely Berlin, which is under threat. There is serial killer on the loose, a pederast who goes for little girls, and this is causing all degrees of panic. Now its important to realize, this was essentially the first serial killer film ever made, and handles the subject matter brilliantly. Instead of just showing the murders like a typical horror film, M shows how the killer effects the city around him, because people get really upset by this serial killer. Because nobody knows who he is, people are accusing each other wildly, angry mobs are attacking anybody who is remotely eccentric or so much as talks to a little girl. The police become increasingly authoritarian in there hope to find the killer, and raid the more seedy pubs thinking that the serial killer might hang out among there crowd. In response, the underground criminal organization gets together and decides to hunt the killer themselves, both because they are quite frankly, digested by this man. The rest of the movie is a chase as both the police and the mob try to catch the killer before he does more damage. As the movie goes on, the audience follows the killer himself, played by Peter Lorre, as he desperately hopes to escape It posses this Watchmen quality of awesome, except far far better than Moores work (book not movie, and I say that knowing it is hard to top) And it is awesome

Alright, now for those of you who don’t care about spoilers or have seen it before, I feel bad just talking more about it cause I pretty much did a score of pages on that, so let me just list what M did that I wish more movies out there would do and make it awesome

1) Mature subject matter. Child murderer who is being hunted by the Nazi like criminal syndicate and is played by Peter Lorre? Yeah, for a film that has no blood, this is a mature film, but it doesn’t just revel in the “oh look at us, we talk about pedophilia”, it actually handles all of its mature subject matter very…well maturely. There isn’t any reveling or in depth graphic portrayal of the various subtexts, sexual or political, they are just taken for granted and then handled like any other movie subject. Compare to say, Sin City, where the child molesters played up for all they are worth and the dark nature of rape and murder are played up to the point where it becomes a joke (and not in a good way). M treats the problem of a Serial Killer very realistically, showing how society reacts to his atrocities, and how the city undergoes a state of panic and quite frankly revulsion, to the point where the mob wants to get rid of this guy. Also, politics, and pretty tough one. Lang is trying to give a strong message, everybody is human and mob justice is wrong, but he doesn’t attempt to simply use a series of stereotypes and idealized protagonist ubermensch to simply dictate what the director believes, like say Mel Gibson, Michael bay and Frank Miller do. The issue of the Nazis is taken very seriously, and the movie takes a lot of time to explain both the Serial Killer and the rise of a militaristic authoritarian second government. A mature subject is more than just thinking of the darkest crime imaginable then graphically portraying it, films have an obligation to actually address the subject matter. Hans Becerkt isn’t just a mindless Dirty Harry torturer who kills for kicks, he is a mentally ill, who can’t help himself and is clearly in need of help. While he is truly a degenerate of society and needs to be locked up, the performer is able to convey that he is in fact human, and pitiable, not some mindless monster. And I’ll take a guess and say that real life serial killers, while the worst society has to offer are still human beings.

2) Handling politics with an eye towards portrayal, not propaganda. M has learned the lesson that so many educational videos have not in that hammering a point home again and again to the point of absurdity doesn’t teach people how to learn something. And portraying all of your villains in offensively two dimensional terms in a world of extreme black and white is just offensive. The way to handle a political point is to make an attempt to explore the issue, to demonstrate reasonably the dangers of an issue. M doesn’t simply yell at the audience that mob justice is wrong and barrage use with friendship speeches, then walk away. Instead, Lang makes an effort to show how hard of a position democracy is, that the mob’s reasoning to murder the child killer seems appealing, and many of the characters make speeches explaining there point of view. Lang makes his point by displaying even the most vile members of society have feelings and showing the value of humanity. In Sin City, the Yellow man is not a human being, he is a two dimensional character who exists simply to be so vile that the sociopathic main character can be justified in torturing him brutally. And because he never displays any actual human emotions, its easy to accept this, to delight in his brutal torture and murder (same goes to Scorpio in Dirty Harry and the mute guy in Sin city….oh and all of 300), we can easily give in to our inner sadism now that we have thoroughly taken away any humanity from the character. But that isn’t real, that’s an illusion, an dream where evil people are simply just inherently demonic. Peter Lorre plays the most vile human being society can naturally produce, (with the possible exception of the SS like Safecracker), and yet he is still a human being. While we can mentally wish him to be tore apart when he is stalking a young girl, when he is desperately fleeing from a band of angry crooks, hiding pitifully to avoid capture, we can’t help but feel pity. He is one of us, a sick twisted one of us, but he isn’t some fantastical creature who exists only in trashy pulp novels and the films of hacks. He is a person, and that is far harder to face than any two dimensional monster. Far scarier than witnessing a soulless monster is being forced to confront the humanity within that. Especially when M forces us to ask who is the monster, the sick man who gives in to his perverse urges or the sane men who wish to torture him none the less. Now I’m not saying every villain has to be a Peter Lorre, Captain Videl in Pan’s Labyrinth and the villain of Blue Velvet are great examples of psychopaths who still show hints of humanity, and the film doesn’t justify torture. On the political sides of things, Lang disagrees with the Nazis, but he isn’t showing them as a series of stock movie villains, and explores the mob’s own motivations and philosophy. The hints of the film towards purging the “unpure” and of spies and mass execution were at the time simply fantasy, but sadly were revealed to be true.

3) Showing the wide range effects of actions. This one really gets to me, because a good story always needs to have background in order to properly make sense. I read a lot of history, so I understand that background events always influence smaller decisions, the rise of Hitler was attached to at least in part to the wide spread disillusionment of traditional values and democracy following the depression and WWI. M makes sure hat the audience is well aware of the publics agitations and the way in which the actions of the police, the mob and the killer effect the city as a whole. Thus, the various characters actions have much more meaning to them, when one man is almost lynched for saying high to a little girl, this isn’t an isolated incident but instead the sign of the times. Compare to say, in Sin City, where the child murderer is able to get away with anything because his dad is a senator, and yet when Mark Foley hit on an intern, he gets essentially banished. What world does this operate in? Or the way that in Braveheart and the Patriot, no real effort is made to understand why the British are trying to keep their conquests. Or even why the rebels are rebelling beyond the generic “freedom” clause, when in reality the American revolution was an absurdly complicated, corrupt, and racist affair on all ends (except maybe the Quakers) as 1776 shows.

4) Less is more. M has no death on scene, no blood, in fact beyond one man falling down a stair case, no injury. And yet it is one of the darkest and most frightening films ever made. Being graphic to the point of absurdity isn’t dark, its silly. M is very reserved, and more implied horror than real gore, which hammers home a real point. The murderer is among us, will your community be driven to paranoid accusations and radical movements if pressured, could your child not come home one night as you prepare dinner? Could you support stability and order only to awake one day and find yourself in an oppressive militaristic government. Even the music does this, there isn’t any, the tone is set by the characters, not the music. The only music is the humming of “hall of the mountain king” by the killer, a broken tuneless whistle that is far more sinister than any orchestra. Dark Knight isn’t scary, the Joker’s antics are amusing, but not horrifying, because I have no doubt that it will never happen, that the movie is clearly a fantasy who’s pretensions of being “dark and edgy’ rest entirely upon having there villains be seemingly omnipotent and the mob being stupid enough to trust a clown. Its not something that I feel will ever effect me, what scares me are people. People are damn scary, they are reactionary, emotional, easily manipulated, and liable to commit great cruelty. There has never been a killer like the Joker or the Persians in 300. As we know, the darkest force in M emerged a year and a half after the film’s making.

5) Random characters. Every single character in M has something distinctive about him, something interesting, something that gives the impression he is a human being too. Even the beggar who counts out his cigarettes and has no lines is a person, and like in most Kurasaka like manner, seems like he’d be something that would be interesting to follow more and learn more about. It isn’t like 300 where the characters are just generic racially classified faces who play a part in the film, people are, well people, they are diverse, they are distinct, and they reaction to events. In every cut, every single extra is doing something different. Random characters often speak up or make observant comments, acting almost as a Greek Chorus.

6) There isn’t a main character. Are we following Safecracker as he tries to establish a stronger regime by taking advantage of this killer? Are we following Beckert’s fall as he is captured in response to his atrocities? Is this the story of Lohemann’s attempt to enforce democratic justice? Or is that random defense lawyer the main character, standing up to hundreds of angry criminals as he defense that nobody has the right to kill without a just trial. The story is seen from the perspective of many people, and tells a story, full of complications and different views

7) Details. Details, details, details. Details make a massive effect on the film. Let me give you an example. The opening scene of the film is a women in her room, hand washing clothes and obviously stressed out. Then her cocoo clock goes off, and she smiles, and goes to set the table and prepare food, more work but she is obviously delighted by something. The camera cuts to a public school, as little Elsie Bechmanne is coming out of school. As she crosses the street, she is almost hit by a car, making the audience suddenly jump, instinctively feeling sympathy for the child. We cut again to the mother, as she finishes her meal, and waits expectantly. It is clear that her daughter coming home is the happiest moment of her day. Cut again to Elsie, playing with her ball, throwing it against a wanted poster of the murderer, when suddenly a loaming shadow appears over her, and a voice, a strangely kind voice says “What a pretty ball you have. What is your name”. Cut again to the mother, as she watches other kids come up the stairs, her slightly anxious expression as she wonders why her kid is late. Cut again to the killer, buying the little girl a balloon, whistling his broken tune, the child looks delighted that she has met this understanding friend. Arm and arm, they walk off screen together. Cut again to the mother, now visibly nervous, when suddenly the door rings. The audience is confused, this can’t be the daughter, she is in the hands of a killer. Is help arriving? Has she escaped? IS this the news of what happened? But it is only a book salesman, selling the next chapter of some man’s story. The mother buys it, with a slightly happy, but also worried look on her face as she asks if he has seen her child, the man nonchalantly walks off. The mother stands in the room, almost dazed, not knowing what to do, then as if suddenly realizing what could have happened to her child, she begins to yell down the stairs her child’s name. Again and again she tries to reach her child, her own impotency in protecting her child reveled, as her cries echo uselessly through the empty building. Then we cut to a telephone pole with the child’s balloon caught in it, an empty field where silently a ball rolls unto screen, an empty attic with children’s clothes, a memory of the child perhaps, or a place where something horrible happened. The details bring out the emotions of the scene, like the when the police organize the objects.

OK, those I want to see more of. As you can tell, I am not a fan of modern film, and I truly hate the works of Mel Gibson, Frank Miller and Mr. Bay Surprise surprise

From

EE ,

My film college paper political undertones of M

(safecracker, being a scary nazi)
Hey guys, this is what has been keeping me occupied (well one of the things) for the last month. I've finished and i'm proud of it, and i want to post it here. But if you haven't seen Fritz Lang's M, then it won't make much sense to you and will spoil it, so either watch that movie, or read this if you don't care, or wait until i write a review of M, which is one of my favorite movies. ok, film buffs enjoy

The Political Undertones of M:The Murderers Among us John Pruitt

The story of the hunt for a child murderer may not seem inherently political since it employs the plot device of a police drama, but Fritz Lang’s M, made in 1931 on the eve of Hitler’s rise to power, must be viewed through a political lens. Lang focuses less upon the drama of finding the killer and more upon the indirect affect the murderer has upon the society he lives in, and in so doing, exposes not only the life of the city but the lengths this internal threat drives people to. When making the movie, Lang said, “I want to make a movie about people,” and he focuses less upon the singular story of a serial killer, and more on the collective story of human nature, law and justice. Lang’s city becomes a microcosm for German society as a whole.

One of the central themes of M is that the murders have a wide-scale effect on the population as a whole. The murderer isn’t on screen in the early scenes; instead, we learn first of people’s reactions to his actions. The first lines of dialogue are by children singing about some dark monster, immediately followed by two women talking about how the child-killings are on everybody’s mind. When little Elsie Beckman meets her killer, she is looking at a poster outlining his crimes. The murder itself isn’t seen, only the cries of the mother combined with shots of the girl’s balloon and ball, leaving the gruesome details to the viewer’s imaginations. Following the murder, the next scene shows how different characters interpret the paper. The camera cuts from a nervous crowd to a table of gentlemen, focusing upon a specific warning from the paper about the crime: “We must remind you again that a mother’s first duty is to guard her children from the danger which always threatens. Also the danger is often hidden with some attractive treat, candy, a toy; an apple can all be weapons of the killer.” The seemingly unimportant details highlight the paranoia that has overcome the city. The paper reads: “Where is the murderer, what is he like, where is he hiding? Nobody knows, but still he is one of us.” The warnings underline why the police can’t find the criminal, and why the people of the city are so on edge; if the criminal is one of them, then nobody can be trusted. The citizens are tormented by knowing that their kid isn’t safe even in their neighbor thus are more likely to turn to extreme measure to put a stop to this perpetual terror. The line “the murderer is one of us” underlines a secondary theme in the film – that it isn’t quite clear who the murderer is, as the people of the mob are themselves liable to murder.

In a following scene, a crowd reacts violently towards an old man giving the time to a little girl. The mob’s paranoia reveals a city gripped by the need to find a scapegoat. None of the characters on screen have names or any direct relation to the plot, which gives the impression that this scene has been played out many times across the city. Although the accused man is innocent, his house is searched. The exasperated and tired expressions on the policemen’s faces let the audience know that this has become a formula, that searches are taking place all over the city. The camera cuts to exhausted patrolmen being woken up, detectives looking through mountains of paperwork, whole armies exploring forests for clues; the audience is exposed to brief glimpses of the hardships the police are enduring. As dozens of criminals are rounded up in raids, the police use their lack of papers as an excuse to arrest them for other crimes. When the police form a blockade forcing the men to display their papers (unintentionally resembling the checkpoints set up by the SS years later), the petty criminals’ chants about “Papa Loehmann,” the head inspector, which indicated that police popularity is waning due to the amount of trouble they are causing with nothing to show for it.

The result of all of these seemingly unimportant scenes is that when the criminal network gathers in force, the audience understands their mindset. Frustrated by constant raids and feeling humiliated that the police assume the killer is among them, the lower classes are angry. This anger leads them they to hate the child-killer for bringing inconveniences upon them. Their desire to protect their own business interests, combined with their fear for their own children and disgust at the brutal nature of the crimes, provokes extreme measures. Thus, when the meeting does commence, the audience sympathizes with their determination to catch the killer themselves. The newspaper’s question of “who is the murderer?” echoes throughout the film, as both Hans and his hunters can simultaneously be described a killers.

The idea of a city gripped by fear turning to a militaristic criminal element to bring stability draws an obvious parallel to the Nazi’s rise to power -- Hitler would become chancellor of Germany a mere two years after the film’s creation, when it would be banned in Nazi Germany – and, for Lang, the underground criminal government becomes a metaphor for the Nazi’s vigilante thuggery. The concept of a gang of thieves running their own guild wasn’t unique to Lang; the 1928 musical The Threepenny Opera had a similar premise, but the criminals of M are both more efficient and more sinister. The head gangster (in one translation known as the Safecracker) looks like the quintessential SS man, a sharp figure with a sleek black leather overcoat, meticulously groomed and with cold watchful eyes. This image is completed by a hat that casts a shadow over his face, leather gloves, and a cane gripped like a weapon. His every movement is carefully coordinated; in his first appearance, he jerks back from the open door in seconds demanding the curtains be closed. When sitting during the meeting, he doesn’t pace or worry as the other leaders do, but contemplates, not even removing his gloves, which indicates caution, (the viewer remembers the police fingerprint lab seen earlier). His every movement is mechanized and planned out; he never lets his guard down, almost as if he is trying to make himself an inhuman machine. In contrast to the other criminal heads at the meeting, he doesn’t make any mention of a family or of being morally appalled by Hans Beckert; his issue with the killer is business. It’s noteworthy that when the criminals hunt Beckert, Safecracker dresses in uniform and masquerades as an agent of law. Safecracker is the new Germany, a smoothly professional killer who detaches himself from emotions and praises efficiency, a cold man whose moral code disregards mercy or compassion. (Ironically, the career of the actor who played Safecracker thrived under the Nazi regime, and he was later accused of being a collaborator.)

In contrast to Safecracker’s inhuman efficiency, Inspector Loehmann, the head of the case, is tubby, with greasy hair and unfashionable clothes. While Safecracker barks orders, Loehmann paternally asks criminals to “calm down, my children.” Loehmann doesn’t mind seeming eccentric or flawed. When the camera looks up at him from the floor, making him look very unimpressive and ugly, the effect is much different than when Hitler was filmed from the waist up, using a subordinated viewpoint to impress and intimidate. In contrast, Safecracker is filmed in such a manner during the trial scene, in order to empathize his intimidation of Hans.

(see picture above)

Lang’s shot of Loehmann reveals his physical imperfections, yet Loehmann is one of the heroes of the movie; his ethics convey a belief in democracy, justice, deductive reasoning and hard work. Loehmann doesn’t violate the rights of the people under his protection. He protects his city as an agent of the law, as when he questions and tricks the captured criminal rather than using torture.

The criminal movement attempts to lay a scrim of legitimacy over what is essentially vigilante justice. Their justification for going after Beckert is disgust at his actions, but the criminal leaders’ main concerns are finances and their own reputation. Beckert’s actions are “bad for business.” The syndicate operates as a twisted parody of justice, as seen by the mock trial held in the end. In fact, they are almost shown as a second government who operate independently of the police, not trusting the establishment to try Hans Beckert and instead taking matters into their own hands. The Nazi party, at this time, also possessed more members than the German military (due to WWI restrictions), and operated as an independent government. The criminal and police meetings are constantly intercut, highlighting the parallels between the two groups but also their fundamental differences. The camera sharply switches between the official and the criminal meetings, disorienting the viewer. The essential difference between the two operations is authority. The criminals are subservient to Safecracker; they propose ideas, but he makes the final choice as if they were advisors to a king. Later, when an informant is on the phone with one of the lesser bosses, Safecracker simply grabs the phone away and begins issuing orders, contradicting the other with a word. In contrast, at the police meeting, the highest ranking authority figure, the police commissioner, speaks little, trusting his subordinates to do their job, and giving the floor to different officers as they propose an idea. The result this hands off approach is that Inspector Loehmann’s plan is taken seriously and the meeting is a success. The police meeting is an example of democracy at work.

Loehmann, unlike Safecracker, is only a man. The latter seems more ideal than human, while Loehmann is flawed, and yet that is what makes him sympathetic. When he learns why the criminals raided the office building, Loehmann doesn’t instantly know what to do, but has to run to the restroom to compose himself. However, upon his return, he is able to take control of the situation and insure that justice is done. Loehmann hasn’t given up on the value of humanity, and his is a legitimate justice rather than a mockery of it.

Safecracker’s solution ultimately does produce the serial killer and ensure the safety of the children, and yet it is stability at a cost. Like many dictatorships, Safecracker assures the peace of the city by installing a spy network that answers to him, having no accountability with the public. In protecting the city, he has also taken away their right to privacy and due process, instead securing peace based upon force, not individual rights. As far as the gangsters had known, Hans Beckert could have been a father or uncle who liked to whistle and happened to pass the same place on the wrong days. While far fetched, it’s still possible that he could have been innocent, while Loehmann’s method would have gotten the right man absolutely. The democratic system is slow, flawed, and often disorganized, but in the end it represents justice. The syndicate, like the Nazis themselves, wears the mask of a lawful organization, holding a mock trial and trying to catch a killer, but is unable to hide the fact they are a loosely bound group of criminals and thugs, many of whom deserve to be in jail. In the trial scene, Safecracker looks like a gentleman, but behind him are toughs, prostitutes, thieves and murderers, whose response to the defense is to heckle and jeer, surging forward to kill Hans. They are an uncontrolled mob, united in their hatred of an outsider supposedly viler than they are.

The criminals at the trial are like the Nazis themselves, seeking to restore stability but at the price of stripping away humanity and mercy. This dehumanization could be seen as justifiable in the case of a child murderer, and yet, by choosing such an extreme example, Lang undermines the Nazi ideal. Through Lorre’s portrayal, Lang is able to convey that even the vilest members of our race are still human, and pitiable, calling into question the ethics of state-killing. M makes no attempt to mask or justify Beckert’s murders, and yet he is no less human than the criminals who kill for profit, or the police who kill for the law. In fact, in some ways he is more human than Safecracker, who demonstrates none of the weakness or warmth characteristic of humanity. If any character can be deemed a monster, it is Safecracker himself, who for most of the film is considered the lesser of two evils. The shift in Hans’ portrayal also subtly highlights the way movies inherently dehumanize people, playing with the emotions and feelings of the audience. Much like the Nazi propaganda at the time, the film lulls the audience into allowing their respect for humanity to slip away due to the revolting nature of the crimes, to the point that they are willing to see a man torn apart by an angry mob. If Hans Beckert had been beaten to death in his opening scene, the audience’s response would have been one of satisfaction. If he had been murdered in cold blood when following the girls, nobody would have bemoaned his death. M forces the audience to see beyond a pervert’s affliction and recognize his humanity, sick and twisted as it is

Filmed in the age of the Nazi philosophy, the question of Hans Beckert’s humanity is central to the movie, whether he is truly a monster who is beyond any redemption or mercy, or a sick man in need of help. From the opening scene, it is the children who are humming a macabre tune to their game, building the killer into some sort of boogie man. His first appearance on screen is only as a shadow on his own wanted poster with the ominous seductive drawl. His leitmotif, Grieg’s “The Hall of the Mountain King” is a song from the opera Peer Gynt, is about a band of mad trolls hunting down a human, and tells a tale of both madness and claustrophobia. Hans is a monster hunting down innocent humans, while a subtler theme is his being trapped in the hallways of his mind (a metaphor used in his final speech). The leitmotif is used to establish his character on the screen, simply hearing the music signals to the audience that he is present, if not seen, such as when he is stalking a young girl who is window shopping. The murderer is a looming shadow that stalks the unaware, as he stalks the town itself. He acts as a sinister presence throughout the film as the tension and fear on the streets is displayed, and both common people and professionals are shocked by the horrific nature of his crimes.

The fact that the murders aren’t shown on screen but are alluded to, with various characters mentioning “the state they were found…well we all know how they looked.” Hans doesn’t have any lines for the first third of the movie, which is instead dedicated to showing how other characters react and prepare for him, planting spies, investigating leads, and voicing their discontent. Numerous characters, especially the angry mob, refer to Hans Beckert as simply “the murderer” or “the monster,” again stripping his humanity. When the police are taking the pickpocket away, the crowd surges toward him having heard only the word murderer, and many characters in other scenes indicate they want to tear him apart.

Throughout the inter-cut meeting scene with the police and criminals, a limited understanding of his personality is patched together as two dozen people talk for almost ten minutes about him. As the movie unfolds, Han’s Beckert’s personality on screen had been established by his reputation alone, before the visual – his strange almost goofy face and the aural – his whistling – introduces him as an individual. In the same way we associate his leitmotif with his character, we associate his name with a feeling of disgust and anger. Both the police and the syndicate put their plans to catch him into motion before he even appears, giving the audience a sense of inevitability when it comes to Hans’ fate, much as if the viewers have watched the preparation of a trap for a wild beast.

When a police inspector rummages through Beckert’s room and personal belongings, the camera inexpediently cuts to the man himself, looking into a store window. His is a rather chubby and bored face reflected in a store window. Lorre’s unimpressive frame and rather unremarkable presence makes the context of the scene a little hard to understand; he looks like a normal man who is window shopping. The sinister hat and long coat from the first scene now look ill-fitting and plain, and the killer seems almost disappointingly normal.

This changes, however, when he sees the little girl in the mirror, surrounded by a display of knives as an indication of his intentions, and a subtle transformation occurs. His face contorts into a mask of lust and perverse enjoyment, almost a parody of an excited window shopper. When he turns to his victim, his face is again normal, however his reflection is the warped face of a monster, the inner demon underneath this somewhat unimpressive exterior. Then, when his humming of Grieg resumes, he is like a beast on the prowl, and yet the expected chase scene is cut short when the intended prey is intercepted by her mother, and the killer is forced to slip by them, revealing his frustration. Hans has a drink to console himself and rocks back and forth with nervous energy, attempting to resist his demonic urges. The man who was a moment ago was an inhuman hunter driven by lust now resembles a man struggling with an addiction, a pitiful figure. His whistling becomes broken, fragmented, and frenzied, almost as if he is trying to resist the urge to whistle, before finally giving in and resuming the prowl. All of his future scenes are tainted by this brief interlude; he is no longer an inhuman monster who serves as the film’s antagonist, hunting the children without any emotion but lust and rage (like the Tramp from Suspense) , but instead a very awkward and troubled human being. Consequently, the audience is not able to delight in his capture the way they would for a stock killer. During his mock trial, he has become an animal, slowly hemmed in and trapped, and Lang generates sympathy for the monster as Beckert desperately tries to avoid his inevitable capture and murder.

The question of Han’s Beckert’s humanity is one of the central themes of the film, as it calls into question how a society justifies killing, and especially the nature of vigilante justice. Hans’ defense lawyer also points out that Safecracker has killed three people himself, underlining the hypocrisy of their kangaroo court. Han’s verdict was decided before the trial started. When the floor is given to the defense lawyer, he is heckled the moment he starts defending his charge, the mob yelling for him to stop talking. The gangs are only interested in vengeance, and have left behind any pity or sense of compassion. In his final speech, Hans points out that he doesn’t have a choice in his crimes; it’s a compulsion, while the criminals surrounding him are simply lazy and cowardly. His famous line “Who knows what it’s like to be me?” can be seen as a play upon the fact that most of what we know of the man has been a picture painted by other characters; little is understood of Beckert’s own torment. The speech also follows up the earlier café scene, in that it strips away Beckert’s aura of mysterious power. Gone is the menace attached to the serial killer, the monster of the city, replaced by a grown man crying and holding his head, and again the audience is suddenly aware of his humanity and impulsively feels pity. However, standing opposed to his fervent and desperate pleads for understanding are the authorities and the pitiless Safecracker, whose speech of purging this evil -- this man compelled to murder -- is strikingly similar to the Nazi rhetoric of purging “undesirables.” Safecracker has no pity for the mentally ill, and his speech about the failings of the state asylums are like his earlier speech about hunting down the killer without any mercy or compassion. Safecracker is repeating the same cold rhetoric of purging those who are deemed a determinant to society, a status determined by him. Han’s Beckert’s final outburst shows that even individuals who have committed the most heinous of crimes can still possess a shred of sympathy, and that even if the audience, like the detectives, see the worst and darkest parts of his life, that doesn’t mean that they can truly understand what it is like to be him, nor condemn him to an unjust fate. Underneath this theme of reactionary panic of the city, is the danger of innocence. The opening rhythm is sung by the children, who are a symbol of innocence, and later it is a child who both returns Hans’ knife and points out to him the mark upon his back. Hans himself has a strange innocence quality about him, as the children are unknowingly drawn into his trap; he himself is a victim of the criminal’s trap. While most characters are unaware of his true nature, his own broken whistling reveals his identity to blind beggar, who can’t see his humble disguise. When Hans is marked, he looses his disguise, which has kept him from being caught for so long, and is now branded as a beast to be hunted by the encircling mobsters, the mark preventing him from slipping away. Paradoxically, in revealing his true nature as a killer, he gains the pity of the audience as he is hunted and trapped by the mob. Hans, himself, resembles a giant child, both physically, with his wide eyes and pale flesh, and in his mannerisms, from his emotionalism to his inability to control his childish needs and frustrations. In a sense, Hans is a child who has disrupted the game of the adults, and in doing so he has caused them to unite to restore the old order. Much as Safecracker is a parody of justice, Hans is almost a parody of innocence, a victim, but one with blood on his hands.

The theme of humanity is applicable more than just to Hans Beckert, but also to the criminals themselves. Despite the syndicate being a stand-in for the Nazi party, Lang is careful to make clear that with the exception of Safecracker, the criminals are also human. These men and women, who in many films would be simply generic villains, are almost seen as the heroes, protecting the city from the child-killing monster. The earlier scenes underlie the city’s panic and frustrations, making the criminal’s own worries and anger over the murders seem more sympathetic. Many of these criminals are upset at Hans not just because he is bad for business, but also because his cruelty upsets them. The keeper of the pub makes a point to mention that many of the prostitutes are mothers and are offended by the nature of these crimes. When the mock trial occurs, one of the women talks about the emotional horror of losing a child and asks the defense lawyer to consider the feelings of the parents. As she talks about the long nights of not knowing what happened, and the sudden shock, the camera cuts to other criminals, many of who are physically large and misshapen, looking upset and sad by her words, implying they had lost children at some point. The women’s speech ends with her choking on emotion, her face contorted with rage. This scene demonstrates how the very humanity of the mob is what drives them to strip away the humanity of others.

The mob isn’t a political strawman that Lang attacks with impunity. He makes an effort to show that they too are people who are upset and horrified by these crimes. Even the bosses, with the exception of Safecracker, are shown to be very human inside, one mentioning having to look under his child’s bed every night to make sure the murderer isn’t there, and another showing panic at the idea of being tried for murder. With the exception of Safecracker, all of the criminals are visibly upset by the nature of these crimes, and in some part feel that they are doing a civic duty. By showing the humanity of the killer and the vigilantes, Lang makes a point about the complexity of human nature, and avoids dehumanizing any character the way the Nazi’s would. The film makes a conscious effort to avoid stereotypes or caricatures, so that no character is portrayed without compassion. The only exception is Safecracker who consciously strips away his own humanity, and the humanity of those that follow him, as they become bestial in the trial scene. It is the philosophy of fascism that is the true monster.

M reveals the danger of allowing fear and hatred to take precedent over the rule of law and justice, and forces the audience to realize that taking a life isn’t as easy as exterminating an animal. As a film, it shows how easy it is to reduce a human being to something that can be killed without sympathy. It is, in fact, easier to make Hans Beckert into a monster than to regard him as a human, because this requires a conscious effort to sympathize with the killer, to enter the mind of somebody so disturbed that it reflects upon the viewer’s own feelings about sexuality. The real horror of M comes only in part from the killer, but mostly from the men who are mentally stable who are taking charge and advocating the murder of others. M is a movie about justice and the value of the limitations upon vigilantism, and the danger of extremism. The real monster of M is not any one person, but the way individuals can so quickly become a mob bent on vengeance and hungry for blood.

from

EE

Call of Duty 4 mordern warfare

Hey guys. Now college apps are draining my free time, so sparse posting for another say......three weeks? Then i'll be back in action. But this is my school newspaper review of COD 4 enjoy
from
EE

Call of Duty 4

Remember the days when playing video games would make you nerdy and unpopular. In those days, when a girl asked her friends what she should get her boyfriend, her friends would sarcastically suggest a football or a knife or something equally overly macho. Now its just “Call of duty 4’ cause pretending you’re Special Forces is the manly way to spend your time, and in the same way GI Joes aren’t dolls, CoD is apparently not a video game apparently. Call of Duty, for those of you who have been frozen for years and recently unearthed, is a video game series until recently about World War II. In contrast to its rival series, Medal of Honor, Call of Duty has pretentious to realism, and tries to avoid American jingoism, traditionally having you play as the allies during the WWII games, since Russia really won the war. But I digress. Call of Duty 4 is a departure from their normal format, and is about modern warfare. Now of course, this is a departure from pretentious to fact into near fiction, but you know what, that’s alright, they are trying something new. One of the reason why most video games like to show WWII however is because it avoids controversy, nobody objects to killing Nazis because they went so far out of their way to make themselves evil that even the Soviets come off as good guys. Not to say that the allies didn’t do horrible things in the war, its just easier to get away by showing the conflict in black and white terms, which is harder with modern warfare, because modern wars tend to not be far. America tends to have the best weapons, best training and most advanced tactics, while their enemies are people in small third war countries using outdated rifles and machetes and guns given to them by us, which isn’t good drama. You can’t exactly have a game where you walk around in an Iraqi city for weeks trying to figure out which civilian secretly wants to kill you before being killed by a car bomb. Also modern warfare is sticky, its full of awkwardness, like if invading a sovereign nation to install a puppet government is morally justified, or the tricky issue of civilians causalities. One of the advantages of video game warfare that your enemies have the good nature to never surrender and all of their bases/cities are fun by robots rather than people so you never have the problem of accidentally shooting a innocent laborer or dramatically breaking down a door to find a group of children looking at you with terrified expressions. Also, your enemies die in a very dignified manner, falling down babbling in some foreign language that only a few people playing the game could understanding. You never have to deal with men lying on the ground, crying out for their mothers, sobbing for mercy, and lamenting there families who will suffer without them. Modern Warfare makes this even more awkward because the Special Forces are renown for having a very loose understanding of morals. CoD4 tries to address some of these issues, by not having you fight in any wars but instead fighting rebels in Russia and Saudi Arabia.

Call of Duty 4 is a good game. The graphics are astounding, the guns are all accurate, the fighting is clever and the combat gives me the wonderful feeling of being awesome. But it doesn’t really invent anything, it just re-masters the First Person Shoot format (the games where you are basically a walking gun). I still can get shot three times, hid behind a table, and then be totally fine, I can still use my comrades as human shields and avoid any actual death, I can still use a machine gun without any throwback while running down a cliff. I’ll admit, this game does it better than most, people die fairly easily, and charging a tank or machine gun will cause you to die, but I’m still able to kill at least twenty guys with guns with a pistol, and I can shoot a man in the stomach only stuns him, so there still is a lot of silliness. Also my comrades make things too easy for me, at no point do I have any real feeling of “ok what do I do now” and have to use my own initiative. Now some of you are asking, “Um, why do you want such realism” and I respond, firstly it is so much more challenging. There is a level where I have to defend a village form a bunch of Eastern Europeans because they are...Russian and stuff, and I thought it would be cool, like the last scene from Saving Private Ryan, I’d have to be clever. But instead, my comrades essentially just escort me from house to house, preventing me from being hurt but also from actually feeling like I’m making a difference and the lack of actual dying makes it very unsatisfying. And secondly, realistic combat is what actual Special Forces have to go through.

Now the final issue of CoD4, what is it trying to say? You play as the US Marines fighting some generic Arab rebels, and the British SAS fighting generic Russian rebels, but both allies are show doing so many horrible things that I wonder if the game is trying to make a statement about our foreign policy. When you die in this game, little quotes appear about your death, and almost half of them are anti war quotes. So is it trying to make as statement about the irony of preventing war with guns? There are some pretty cool moments like when (Spoiler that has already been spoiled to you a million times) the American team is totally wiped out by a nuke that goes off, and you play your character as you crawl around in the ruble of a destroyed city before dying alone and forgotten (oh and Snap kills Mr. D). But despite that, at no point do I really feel like I’m fighting a real modern war and I have to face the consequences of that. Like you know, the actual implication of ordering an air strike on a city full of civilians? Or why these guys are rebelling other than “Duh, evil foreign people”. In short, it’s a good game, but doesn’t bring anything new to the industry.

Being there

Being There

Being There is, intentionally I think, designed like the main character to be hard to classify, in that any commentary towards the movie is reflective of the viewer himself. Being complimentary of the film is either recognizing the genius that is hidden there all along, or perhaps looking for things in the movie they fine personally appealing. Criticisms of course, reflex badly upon the critic, as it makes them seem small minded and unaware of the irony of the film. A critic who calls it boring or simplistic instead looks like a conservative close minded conventionalist (I wish that play on words was clever). Calling the film plotless only makes you similar to the President in the book, who simply can’t comprehend something that doesn’t fit to their narrow minded and bourgeois standards (this film making the pretension of being Avante Guard). Summarily, those who call the film condescending or unrealistic are like Mr. Rand (is that a play on Ann Rand, or the Rand diamond factory?), and thus are simply unimaginative and materialistic, too caught up in their own lives to appreciate the simplicity of the film, or you’re an undereducated plebe. Now I get the film, I see what its about. Chance is a mirror for other people’s egos, people bounce their various ideas off of him, and he also represents the ideal example of Tabula Rassa, a blank slate that absorbs ideals. However, its pretentious, it is trying to be something outside the box, but it follows all of the conventions of a conventional “spiritual” film.