In the pantheon of great directors, Fritz Lang is a bit of an anomaly. Unlike his contemporary Alfred Hitchcock, who was canonized early on and remains a universally acknowledged god of cinema, Lang’s road to directorial fame was an oblique one. Although denounced by Siegfried Kracauer as a fascist in the forties, and then heralded by the French Cahiers du Cinema as an amateur in the sixties, his work has received a surprising dearth of critical attention. It has only been in the last few years that critics have begun to exhume many of his films and give him credit for his important contributions to the history of cinema. With his foreboding and apocalyptic vision of modernity, his keen awareness of the effects of technology and his firm belief in the importance of the human struggle against outside forces, Lang is a particularly apposite director for us to be studying in this day and age. It is time that his reputation be elevated to the height it deserves.

Fritz Lang was born in Vienna in 1890 and died in California in 1976. He lived through two world wars, successfully transitioned from silent films to sound films and, after fleeing the Nazis, managed to start his cinematic life all over again in America. Rivaled only by director Howard Hawks in his ability to work in every genre, Lang directed hundreds of films that ranged from musical comedy to western to police drama. His long career spanned many decades and transcended many difficulties. And yet his cinematic vision remained relatively consistent. Throughout his life, he bemoaned the helplessness of the individual in an age of increasing technological domination. German Language and Literature Professor Eric Rentschler, who is curating the upcoming Fritz Lang retrospective at the Harvard Film Archive in conjunction with his new course on Fritz Lang, emphasizes Lang’s sensitivity to the power of the media. “Fritz Lang’s films are films about how things look and how we see in the modern world, with modern means. They reflect on the problems of perception, a perception increasingly mediated by machines, institutions and political forces. Lang is a particularly astute and prescient observer of the ways in which technological networks permeate social spaces and human lives. For no other filmmaker are the mass media so unabashedly and insistently the defining factor in how people experience the world,” Rentschler said.

Metropolis is the film that Fritz Lang is best known for. Premiered in 1927, this incredibly ambitious and technologically innovative vision of futuristic purgatory practically bankrupted UFA, the enormous German film studio. The extraordinary beauty of Lang’s expressionistic city and the brilliant special effects of Eugen Schuefftan, overpower the argument that belittles Metropolis for its excessively maudlin, and at times incongruous plot. Metropolis was one of the first true science fiction movies, and its influence on films such as Alphaville and Blade Runner is very apparent. Lang’s Marxian depiction of capitalism and industrialism gone awry prophetically predicts many of the problems that plagued the twentieth century. Some dislike what they see as an oversimplification of capitalism, and accuse Lang of being politically antiquated. Perhaps his economic stance in Metropolis is somewhat archaic to the modern viewer. Nonetheless, the memorable sequences of frenzied mob terror, the twisted contortions of the robotic Maria as she incites the workers to revolt and the hallucinatory images of throbbing machines, make Metropolis stand out as an example of brilliant filmmaking.

Metropolis has achieved a cult-like status thanks in part to Giorgio Moroder’s re-release of the movie with a new soundtrack in the 80s. But by focusing solely on Metropolis, viewers fail to realize the importance of Lang’s many other films. His great silent films such as Destiny (1921), Dr.Mabuse the Gambler (1922), and Die Nibelungen (1923-24) should not be ignored. Bunuel believes that Destiny opened his eyes to the poetic expressiveness of the cinema. This fantastical film, which is about the fight of the individual against the forces of death, or destiny, is based on a Grimms fairy tale, and is in the German romantic tradition. Dr. Mabuse captures the essence of post-war despair and is a commentary on the dangers of political power. Dr. Mabuse is a master of disguises, and through him, Lang reveals the deceptive power of the cinema. Die Nibelungen had a large impact on Eisenstein and uses symbolism to convey the epic tale of Siegrfied and Brunhild

When the Nazis came to power in the 30s, they wanted Lang to help them produce fascist propaganda. Lang, however, left Germany, and settled in Hollywood. Professor Rentschler sees this act as proof that the accusation that Lang was a Nazi sympathizer is a false one. He says, “Lang left Germany at a considerable personal cost and went into exile, settling in Hollywood to become a founding member of the Anti-Nazi film League. In that regard he is unlike many other German filmmakers (including his wife Thea von Harbou) who stayed in the Reich and whose careers flourished under the Nazis.” Lang was dictatorial in his directorial style, and often subjected his actors and extras to intense conditions. This coupled with his thick German accent and austere manner made it easy for people to whisper about his fascistic tendencies. Lang always said that he wanted his films rather than his personal life to speak for him. His films clearly condemn authoritarian figures, and show what happens when individuals are forced to confront modern institutions of control, domination and surveillance. This is clearly not the cinematic vision of somebody who supported the Nazi dream machine.

Others leave Lang’s silent period alone, but criticize his Hollywood noir films for being sexually perverted and unnecessarily violent. His noir films are violent, but they are not unnecessarily so. And in comparison to much of what is made today, they are sexually innocent. Spies, Blue Gardenia, Scarlet Street and Woman in the Window are some of his more famous films in this second period. All of his noir films, however, continue to elaborate on the theme of what can happen when technology overpowers our existence. Images of cameras, telephones, clocks and other such modern devices reveal his dark vision of a world, which revolves around a struggle for control or power. His characters face death and destitution, but they do continue to fight. Lang’s films are not without hope.

In the last few years, critics have begun to dismiss many of the prurient and personally vindictive accusations that plagued Lang. Colin McArthur’s book on The Big Heat, Tom Gunning’s new book on Lang and a recent retrospective of Lang’s work at England’s National Film Institute, are just a few examples of his rehabilitation. Harvard is also doing its part to give Lang the credit that he deserves with this new film series at the HFA, with the assistance of the Goethe Institut Boston. I highly recommend that everyone go the Film Archive and see the films of Fritz Lang for themselves.

bankrupted UFA, the enormous German film studio. The extraordinary beauty of Lang’s expressionistic city and the brilliant special effects of Eugen Schuefftan, overpower the argument that belittles Metropolis for its excessively maudlin, and at times incongruous plot. Metropolis was one of the first true science fiction movies, and its influence on films such as Alphaville and Blade Runner is very apparent. Lang’s Marxian depiction of capitalism and industrialism gone awry prophetically predicts many of the problems that plagued the twentieth century. Some dislike what they see as an oversimplification of capitalism, and accuse Lang of being politically antiquated. Perhaps his economic stance in Metropolis is somewhat archaic to the modern viewer. Nonetheless, the memorable sequences of frenzied mob terror, the twisted contortions of the robotic Maria as she incites the workers to revolt and the hallucinatory images of throbbing machines, make Metropolis stand out as an example of brilliant filmmaking.

Metropolis has achieved a cult-like status thanks in part to Giorgio Moroder’s re-release of the movie with a new soundtrack in the 80s. But by focusing solely on Metropolis, viewers fail to realize the importance of Lang’s many other films. His great silent films such as Destiny (1921), Dr. Mabuse the Gambler (1922), and Die Nibelungen (1923-24) should not be ignored. Bunuel believes that Destiny opened his eyes to the poetic expressiveness of the cinema. This fantastical film, which is about the fight of the individual against the forces of death, or destiny, is based on a Grimms fairy tale, and is in the German romantic tradition. Dr. Mabuse captures the essence of post-war despair and is a commentary on the dangers of political power. Dr. Mabuse is a master of disguises, and through him, Lang reveals the deceptive power of the cinema. Die Nibelungen had a large impact on Eisenstein and uses symbolism to convey the epic tale of Siegfried and Brunhild.

When the Nazis came to power in the 30s, they wanted Lang to help them produce fascist propaganda. Lang, however, left Germany, and settled in Hollywood. Professor Rentschler sees this act as proof that the accusation that Lang was a Nazi sympathizer is a false one. He says, “Lang left Germany at a considerable personal cost and went into exile, settling in Hollywood to become a founding member of the Anti-Nazi film League. In that regard he is unlike many other German filmmakers (including his wife Thea von Harbou) who stayed in the Reich and whose careers flourished under the Nazis.” Lang was dictatorial in his directorial style, and often subjected his actors and extras to intense conditions. This coupled with his thick German accent and austere manner made it easy for people to whisper about his fascistic tendencies. Lang always said that he wanted his films rather than his personal life to speak for him. His films clearly condemn authoritarian figures, and show what happens when individuals are forced to confront modern institutions of control, domination and surveillance. This is clearly not the cinematic vision of somebody who supported the Nazi dream machine.

Others leave Lang’s silent period alone, but criticize his Hollywood noir films for being sexually perverted and unnecessarily violent. His noir films are violent, but they are not unnecessarily so. And in comparison to much of what is made today, they are sexually innocent. Spies, Blue Gardenia, Scarlet Street and Woman in the Window are some of his more famous films in this second period. All of his noir films, however, continue to elaborate on the theme of what can happen when technology overpowers our existence. Images of cameras, telephones, clocks and other such modern devices reveal his dark vision of a world, which revolves around a struggle for control or power. His characters face death and destitution, but they do continue to fight. Lang’s films are not without hope.

In the last few years, critics have begun to dismiss many of the prurient and personally vindictive accusations that plagued Lang. Colin McArthur’s book on The Big Heat, Tom Gunning’s new book on Lang and a recent retrospective of Lang’s work at England’s National Film Institute, are just a few examples of his rehabilitation. Harvard is also doing its part to give Lang the credit that he deserves with this new film series at the HFA, with the assistance of the Goethe Institut Boston. I highly recommend that everyone go the Film Archive and see the films of Fritz Lang for themselves.