It happened again. I thought I'd check out Metropolis for an hour before crashing and finish the movie later, but I became so mesmerized with Fritz Lang's visual artistry that I couldn't go to sleep until it was finished. If Metropolis seems familiar, that is no surprise. Created in 1926 and inspired by director Fritz Lang's first visit to New York City, Metropolis is the world's first truly great science fiction film, and it has indelibly fixed nightmarish images of a futuristic city focused more on scientific progress than mankind's betterment.

Every science fiction film noir owes a debt to Lang. Blade Runner comes to mind most readily with its dark metropolitan setting--even borrowing the idea of replicants from Metropolis, as key scenes involve a robot that supplants a human. Metropolis' mad scientist Rotwang and his artificial right hand has many film descendents, including James Bond villains and Dr. Strangeglove. Even comedies like Charlie Chaplin's Modern Times and the Coen brothers The Hudsucker Proxy can trace thematic elements back to Metropolis, where the underclass workers toil below while the administrators rule the upper layers.

Like all quality silent films, the visuals carry the story, and numerous scenes could stand alone in modern art galleries. Lang pulls a true visual tour de force in Metropolis, a definitive example of German expressionism. Between the huge sets and the evocative camera work, Lang creates a fantastic metropolis of angled skyscrapers and aerial freeways while a hidden subterranean world of complex machinery keeps the metropolis going. That underworld is quickly pictured as bleak and hopeless with its extended workday clock and heavily choreographed militaristic worker shift changes.

CGI didn't exist back in 1926, so the crowd scenes consist of thousands of real people on Lang's extensive set. The mob scenes and riots in the flooded subterranean caverns are marvels of Fritz Lang's direction--enough to exhaust Cecil B. DeMille.

The story itself is relatively simple. The people on the surface live luxuriously while slave workers toil below. Malevolent ruler John Fredersen (Alfred Abel) stares villainously, but he has an innocent son named Fredor (Gustav Fröhlich) with a heart of gold. One day as Fredor plays in the Pleasure Gardens, he is struck by the purity and beauty of Maria (Brigitte Helm), who has brought a group of worker children up from the subterranean regions, introducing them as Fredor's “brothers and sisters.”

Fredor is dumbfounded about this secret world, and finds out more information from the mad scientist Rotwang (Rudolf Klein-Rogge). Fredor descends to the underground and attempts to help the workers, highlighted by his turn at performing the tedious clock hand maneuvers. Perhaps he will be the mediator that Maria has prophesized will come and is oft referred to on the intertitles: "The mediator between hand and head must be the heart."

Maria is really a revolutionary, but consistently promotes peace. When Fredor excitedly tells his father of his underground discovery, the elder Fredersen is not amused. Using Rotwang's scientific talents, Maria's face is transferred to a robot in the most famous scene of the film, and the robot gets the workers to rebel violently to play into Fredersen's plans. Since this has a film noir feel to it, and is German, I'll not reveal whether the resolution is a happy one for the handful of people who haven't seen this classic yet.

A more definitive DVD version should be a priority for an enterprising distributor. The Madacy Entertainment version is cheap literally and figuratively--the credits are too large to fit the screen and the visuals are fuzzy. Essentially Madacy presents a video version on DVD format, so at least the tape won't go bad on you.

Still, some stunning visuals make it hard to believe that this is a 1926 movie. Just check the opening scenes of the city and its machinery with the reflected abstract images. Most of these were done through the pioneering special effects work of Eugene Schuefftan, who later worked on The Hustler near the end of his career.

Besides the general artistry of the film, Bridgitte Helm's strong acting completely transforms her attitude from the demure Maria to the provocative Futura robot with outstanding pantomime work. The outer body language differentiates the two characters plainly, but even better are the facial expressions that differentiate the "evil" Maria from the "good" Maria. Sure it's melodrama, but her work is so strong that Lang doesn't have to use other visual props or intertitles to cue the audience.

Metropolis is a landmark film that everyone should see--especially those that normally avoid black and white films or subtitled foreign films. It's amazing how well this silent film holds up--no surprise, as many others have travelled similar science fiction paths where heroic individuals confront the system. But here the creative, abstract production design and cinematography star. Even an inferior VHS tape or pedestrian Mandalay DVD can't stop Metropolis from fascinating film lovers, but for the most enjoyment insist on the ultimate edition from Kino.

* Note: for a far superior more complete version, watch the restored version by Kino International, which contains footage never seen before in theaters and added intertitles that fill in the gaps of the film stock that unfortunately is lost forever (an estimated quarter of the film has been lost). This is now readily available.