★
The Wandering Shadow isn’t a promising start to the collaboration that would soon bring us Die Nibelungen, Metropolis, M and The Last Will of Dr. Mabuse. Fritz Land and Thea von Harbou worked together to create a plot here that unexpectedly lurches from one event to the next, throwing in an occasional surprise and reversal. A character like Wil Brandt can play a significant role early and then vanish for much of the rest of film until re-emerging at the end. And there are numerous unmotivated character elements like Georg Vanderheit vowing for no apparent reason to remain isolated from society until the stone Madonna walks. A full third of this film has been lost, but it’s hard to imagine that the missing third would have given lots more cohesion to this muddle.
That said, some elements here point to better things to come. For one, the intercutting between the cabin and the burning dynamite fuse shows Lang remembers how to create suspense by editing instead of simply showing simultaneous action. There’s also a good deal of Germanic folklore, from the decorated wedding canoes to the rustic mountain cabins and the bells that are associated with death. There’s even a hint of the supernatural that includes a fade-in of a skeletal arm ringing a bell. As in Spiders, a claustrophobic, underground chamber hosts some of the suspenseful action when the cabin is covered in a landslide, an image that recurs in Lang’s work. And his eye for composition again dominates Lang's frame, as does his skillful use of depth of field.
And for all its problems, Lang and Harbou’s story creates suspense and engagement with the audience. Early in the film, we have to wonder why John is pursuing Irmgard so relentlessly and calling her his wife; all the while, Wil Brandt is called George’s rightful heir although Irmgard is George’s widow. All this early confusion for the viewer in the film – and made more confusing by the same actor playing the role of both George and John – lasts until a flashback explains the mysteries. But no sooner do we understand these mysteries than the writers add new narrative questions to engage the audience. The complexity of some of the narrative mysteries here overly confuses, but Wandering Shadow shows the screenwriters honing their skills.
With a third of Wandering Shadows lost, it's hard to judge precisely what the complete film looked like in 1920, but based on what we have here, it might have been an overly ambitious first collaboration between the two writers, While this film is really of interest only to dedicated fans, history shows us that these collaborators would soon meld their respective talents into a formidable cinematic team.
The Wandering Shadow isn’t a promising start to the collaboration that would soon bring us Die Nibelungen, Metropolis, M and The Last Will of Dr. Mabuse. Fritz Land and Thea von Harbou worked together to create a plot here that unexpectedly lurches from one event to the next, throwing in an occasional surprise and reversal. A character like Wil Brandt can play a significant role early and then vanish for much of the rest of film until re-emerging at the end. And there are numerous unmotivated character elements like Georg Vanderheit vowing for no apparent reason to remain isolated from society until the stone Madonna walks. A full third of this film has been lost, but it’s hard to imagine that the missing third would have given lots more cohesion to this muddle.
That said, some elements here point to better things to come. For one, the intercutting between the cabin and the burning dynamite fuse shows Lang remembers how to create suspense by editing instead of simply showing simultaneous action. There’s also a good deal of Germanic folklore, from the decorated wedding canoes to the rustic mountain cabins and the bells that are associated with death. There’s even a hint of the supernatural that includes a fade-in of a skeletal arm ringing a bell. As in Spiders, a claustrophobic, underground chamber hosts some of the suspenseful action when the cabin is covered in a landslide, an image that recurs in Lang’s work. And his eye for composition again dominates Lang's frame, as does his skillful use of depth of field.
And for all its problems, Lang and Harbou’s story creates suspense and engagement with the audience. Early in the film, we have to wonder why John is pursuing Irmgard so relentlessly and calling her his wife; all the while, Wil Brandt is called George’s rightful heir although Irmgard is George’s widow. All this early confusion for the viewer in the film – and made more confusing by the same actor playing the role of both George and John – lasts until a flashback explains the mysteries. But no sooner do we understand these mysteries than the writers add new narrative questions to engage the audience. The complexity of some of the narrative mysteries here overly confuses, but Wandering Shadow shows the screenwriters honing their skills.
With a third of Wandering Shadows lost, it's hard to judge precisely what the complete film looked like in 1920, but based on what we have here, it might have been an overly ambitious first collaboration between the two writers, While this film is really of interest only to dedicated fans, history shows us that these collaborators would soon meld their respective talents into a formidable cinematic team.