“Metropolis,” Capitalism, and Science

Fritz Lang’s film Metropolis provides a good balance between science fiction and social commentary on Weimar Germany.  It depicts a futuristic, dystopian city in which the upper and working classes are both literally and symbolically divided.  When Freder, the son of the city’s overlord discovers the disconnect between the classes, he realizes his role as a mediator between his father and the workers.  He is helped to discover this by his love interest, the prophetic Maria, who preaches for a peaceful solution for the class divide rather than the violent revolution which ends up occurring.

The film’s esthetics play a large role in emphasizing the distinction between the classes.  While the visible part of the city where the wealthy reside is bright and modern looking, the workers’ city is literally underground and characterized by darker colors.  The opening scenes further show the differences between the residents of each section of the city.  The wealthy are shown playing sports and dancing in elaborate gardens specially designed for their pleasure, while the workers are shown marching in a monotonous mob, downtrodden as they prepare for another long shift.  These scenes and esthetics show the two extreme social classes created by capitalism, rather than a large middle class.

The theme of scientific advancement and the troubles in brings reminded me of Bertrand Russell’s “Icarus, or the Future of Science.”  In Metropolis, scientific advancements do not equal better lives for everyone.  While the city is full of technological advancements that make the lives of the citizens of the surface easier, it comes with the price of the suffering of the underground workers.  The creation of the robot Maria is another example in the film of technology being used to harm others.  The robot’s role was reminiscent of that of the somnambulist in The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, as both were used to carry out the plans of a madman.

Is the idea of there being some sort of mediator between the classes too idealistic to truly work?

A classic struggle of “us against them”

In her article “Us Against Them” in Fitzpatrick’s Stalinism: New Directions, Sarah Davies describes a society in the Soviet Union that is fraught with discontent. In the mid to late 1930’s the elite party leaders were attempting to reconstruct a class system–albeit a different one than before–and the people were growing weary.

The long-term goal of the revolutionaries was to abolish the class system and bring to fruition a country ruled by the working class, but it was a goal that proved to be nearly impossible. If the ideology of the party was based on a hatred for the Bourgeoisie and the belief that the workers ought to rule, eliminating all class structures and identification made it more difficult for the party to differentiate between its allies and enemies. Consequently, some new system had to be constructed to distinguish friend from foe. 

In hindsight it is easy for us to see the flaws in the plan, but at the time it seemed the logical solution to a party-made problem. Elite party members became a new “class,” with workers, peasants, and other social groups like Jews classified at lower statuses. What resulted was in essence a new Bourgeoisie (the Party), with the lower working class remaining in the same old social stratum.

The workers had been “liberated” by the revolution and been given the hope that someday in the near future they would rule the Soviet Union, yet here they were less than two decades later being governed yet again by a class of elites–this time by members of the same revolutionary movement that deplored class distinctions. The grand strategists of this plan created an “us against them” environment that was counterproductive to its overall goals. Additionally, history shows that this dichotomy is a powerful motivating force–just look at the Russian revolutions.

The Communist Party may not have successfully abolished all class distinctions with their revolution, but they did instill a new mentality in the Proletariat. It was this new mentality that sparked discontent towards the new “classes” in the 1930’s, and ultimately eroded the revolutionary foundations of the Soviet Union.

Working Conditions in Fritz Lang’s Metropolis

Fritz Lang’s 1927 science-fiction masterpiece Metropolis depicts a futuristic dystopia ridden with class-struggle. Made in Weimar Germany, the films follows Freder, the son of the city’s overlord, and Maria, his love interest, as they try to disenfranchise the classist nature of this urban society. Throughout the film, there is a stark contrast between the scene’s of the workers slaving endlessly to power the city, and the pleasured lives of rich. The city eventually crumbles due to the rocky internal nature and ends with a reconciliation (despite total destruction) of “head” and “heart.”

The scene that stood out to me the most was when Freder explained the horrific details of an accident on of the machine rooms to his father, Fredersen. Freder was down there out of curiosity of the depths, and was following Maria. He watched in shock when a machine exploded and caused several deaths and injuries. He begs his father to fix these horrible conditions, but his father remains unaffected.

This scene paints a picture of the horrible factory conditions in Weimar Germany, as well of the rest of Europe at the time. Economic output was a top priority as modernization prevailed, even though many times it was at the expense of many workers health and safety. It also depicts how little factory owners cared about these workers. To them, workers were replaceable as everybody was looking for work. Conversely, it also shows that perhaps some wealthy people, such as Freder, were appalled by these conditions and urged immediate change.

Maria prophesized a mediator that would bring the classes together and help the workers, could this be Adolf Hitler?

Philosophy and Metropolis

Metropolis, created in 1927, is the grandfather work of the dystopian genre and reminds me of the epistemology of Rene Descartes and The Matrix (1999), which has deep philosophical roots which revolve around skepticism. The central theme of this movie is about capitalism, and the stark contrast it can create between the working class and the elite, and class relations in general.

Rene Descartes, a famous 17th century French philosopher who questioned the legitimacy of our sensory perception in relation to what was considered “real”, may have had influenced Fritz Lang, the writer and director of Metropolis. What led to this thought was how Freder, the protagonist, did not even know the underground half of the society existed before he unknowingly travelled there.

There are two sides to Metropolis: the above ground and below ground. Above ground lays a vast, utopian city with a thriving economy and beautiful gardens. It is depicted as a dreamscape, with the primary color being white which gives a luxurious, heavenly vibe. Metropolis’ power source comes from underground, where the working class industrialists slave over machines in life threatening working conditions. Freder, who is the protagonist, spends his time dwelling in a beautiful garden, until he follows Maria, a woman which he is immediately taken with, underground. Freder’s initial response to this unfamiliar realm is fright, especially when he witnesses the explosion of a machine which results in the injury of many workers in black uniforms. His initial shock to exposure to a world which existed but he was unaware of lays considerable groundwork for reoccurring themes in the entire science-fiction genre, and undoubtedly had influence on the Wachowski Brothers, the writers and directors of The Matrix.

The scene in which Freder reacts upon his submergence into the industrial, dystopian world is closely mirrored in The Matrix, when Neo passes out from a combination of fear and inability to grasp world he could never sense, but always existed. Although I believe The Matrix’s main themes have more biblical roots, I could not help but draw the connections it had with Rene Descartes and Metropolis.

What connections does this movie have with the fear of the evolution of science and Bertrand Russels ICARUS or the future of science?

“Metropolis” and Scientific Advancement

Humans are creatures of habit; we don’t like change. This dislike can morph into fear, especially when it comes to technology. In his film Metropolis, Fritz Lang explores the marvels and horrors that could come from technological advances. While Lang illustrates class inequality and warfare, the film focuses mainly on scientific advancement as a double-edged sword.

Metropolis is the story of a futuristic city, in which the wealthy live extravagantly while the poor work all day to keep the city running. A woman named Maria tells of a mediator that will close this gap between rich and poor. Freder, the son of the ruler of the city, fills this role of mediator by bringing his father and Grot, the leader of the workers, together.

This film displays the good that can come from scientific advancement, but also the evil. For example, science can bring remarkable things, such as the city of Metropolis, but it can also bring horrible things, such as the Maria robot.  In this way, both Metropolis and Bertrand Russell’s “Icarus or The Future of Science” advise people to be cautious with science because what can come of technological advances is uncertain.

The contract between the actions of the robot Maria and the real Maria show why science is not to be trusted. The robot Maria leads the workers out of their underground city, leaving the machines and their children behind. The real Maria goes to the workers’ city and saves the children. This scene shows the audience that scientific advancements are not always better for humanity. Humans need to be cautious and aware of their actions when using technology because it can be dangerous.

Metropolis shows the uneasy and fear of the 1920s. Science was advancing and changing how people thought and perceived reality.  This film shows the meeting of humanity with its creations.

Metropolis

Metropolis is a 1927 film made in Germany, and considered to be the world’s first important science fiction film. It is set in a future where thousands of nameless workers toil in underground factories to help the wealthy minority live in peace on the surface.

The film follows the exploits of Freder, the son of a wealthy industrialist, and Maria, the daughter of a worker. Freder learns compassion for the workers when he goes down to their level, literally and figuratively, and witnesses an explosion that is caused by the carelessness of fatigued, overworked men. This sets in motion his desire to connect the working class and the upper class, which he does through persistence, and the odd arrival of a robot that stirs up a workers revolution through sexual tension, that harms both the wealthy and upper classes. The movie ends with Freder convincing his father and a worker to shake.

The scene I find most fascinating is at the beginning. The movie describes the workers as a horde of similarly dressed workers walking in and out for their shifts, and their hazardous and undesirable working conditions. Simultaneously, the children of the wealthy are frolicking and embracing around a fountain, on the surface level of the city. While this is admittedly a pessimistic science fiction view of the future, and partially similar of Orwell’s 1984, it raises a question about Weimar Germany. While everyone has heard of the culture revolution, including Bauhaus architecture and jazz music, and the economic upturn under Stresemann after 1925, I don’t fully understand how this could have been a reality for a vast majority of a post-War nation. While the issue of capital may have been largely solved through American loans, the utilization of these resources would have required daily shifts from the majority of the population, evoking a similar image to that of the opening scene in the movie. I don’t understand how Weimar Germany can be simultaneously known for baskets of paper money during the hyper inflation of 1923, and the supposed cultural freedom. My question is, how did the average German worker, or peasant, living anywhere but in a large city, live? Did they have access to such luxuries? Did they have time to participate in such luxuries? Were their daily lives that different than under the monarchy?

Also, on a minor note, there was a clock at the start of the movie that only had 10 hours, instead of 12. Does anyone know why?

“The Mediator Between Head & Hands”

Fritz Lang’s Metropolis is a 1927 German science fiction film displaying the heavy influence of the impressionist movement.  The film portrays a dystopian future society (the eponymous “Metropolis”) in which the laborers that maintain the mechanical operations of the city are relegated to an underground living space while the upper classes enjoy a comparative utopia above.  The city’s leader, Joh Fredersen, attempts to augment his power by using the newly invented Machine-Man, who is made to look like the prophetic character Maria, to incite a rebellion in the working class which will simultaneously cripple their underworld home and justify any further punitive measures that he wishes to take against the laborers.  Upon realizing that his son Freder has posited himself amongst the working class and is thus endangered by the rebellion, Joh realizes the error of his ways and begins a policy of symbiotic cooperation with the labor force, due largely to Freder’s impassioned diplomatic efforts between the two.

Thematically, the film is centered around the opening epigram “The mediator between head and hands must be the heart!”  This epithet is invoked both explicitly and implicitly at numerous points throughout the film. One of the more subtle examples of this exultation of emotional literacy occurs approximately halfway through the film when Freder confronts the incarnation of the grim reaper that stands among the seven deadly sins.  Freder admits to the reaper that his death would have meant little to him up to this point in his life.  However, after having discovered his love for Maria, he defiantly warns that death must “stay away from me and my beloved.”  In this manner, Thea van Harbou makes a strong case for the value of the heart; it is so essential that human life without it is not only impossible, but meaningless.

Do you feel that the role of the “mediator” described in the film is as important as Lang and Harbou portray it to be?  In modern society, what offices/positions fill that role?

Moscow & Lithuania: A Showdown?

An article in The Moscow Times caught my eye yesterday. I’ve been reading a lot about Russia lately, not just in this Russian history course but in other courses as well. With every reading something becomes more and more apparent: Russia has a bit of an attitude when it comes to international relations.

I get it; history shows that their path to the present wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. They are often on the defensive and find themselves with few allies that truly have their back. But isn’t it time they drop the innocent, “I don’t know what you’re talking about” act? The following excerpt from the article displays this:

“Titov (Russia’s deputy foreign minister) said that speculation about Lithuania responding with border restrictions is an attempt to create the impression that it is the “victim of some imaginary outside pressure” and accused Lithuanian carriers of violating customs rules more and more often…”

The language alone gives off a feeling of arrogance. They are belittling the actions of Lithuania in an attempt to discredit them. And certainly Russia doesn’t have a history of inflicting “outside pressure” on its neighbors, does it?  Oh, wait….

Maybe Lithuania really is making something out of nothing and Russia is completely guilt-free of the interference in Lithuanian trade of which they are being accused.  But as a historian I was taught to learn from the past, and in this case the past is on the side of Lithuania.

Beating the System: Socialist Realism

During the Soviet Union, especially the Stalin era, the state controlled members of all professions- including artists, architects, writers, musicians, and directors.  Members of these professions were forced to join unions and would be expelled from the unions if they did not follow their strict rules.  Basically, the rules stated that all art had to glorify the state.  Artists who wrote about other topics were expelled from the unions and their careers were ruined.  Artists who dared criticize the state were sent to the gulags.

This basically led to mainstream Soviet art featuring only socialist themes.  Art from this period included portraits of Lenin and Stalin appearing as religious figures, sculptures of laborers, and military marches.  Films, such as the movie Circus (directed by Grigori Aleksandrov and Isidor Simkov), were first and foremost propaganda films.

Circus is an entertaining movie, both due to the fun circus scenes, and the interesting look at Stalinist propaganda.  The reason why Circus was such a success as a propaganda film was that it used truths about American culture at that time to show the USSR as superior to the US.  The scene at the beginning in which angry Kansas farmers chase the heroine and her biracial child onto a train was no exaggeration.  The US-especially the South- was not an enlightened place in the 1930s.  The Soviet Union used these sad truths about America to their own advantage.  (Although, the US certainly should have been called under attack for their treatment of race.)

Where the film becomes unrealistic is its portrayal of the Soviet Union as a utopia where everyone loves each other and is a big happy family.  At the end of the movie, a famous Jewish actor sings to the baby in Yiddish.  In real life, this actor died under suspicious circumstances, most likely because he had begun to speak out against anti-Semitism in the USSR.  Clearly, the Soviet Union was not the hippie love nest the movie proclaimed it to be.

Critics say that socialist realism caused the death of creativity for Soviet artists.  However, I believe that it enhanced creativity for certain artists who tried to beat the system.  Dmitri Shostakovich composed many official pieces for the government.  He also would sneak messages into his songs.  Towards the end of his life, he wrote “String Quartet No. 7.”  This piece features three beats, symbolizing an officer knocking on the door to the beats “K-G-B.”  This work in considered one of Shostakovich’s finest.

Socialist realism resulted in some interested propaganda, at its worst, and at its best, unknowingly challenged artist to work around the rules.