Metropolis
Deep social commentary and evil robots. Rock on!

Well, I admit it. I was a fan of Working. You know, the TV show with Fred Savage that lasted on NBC about as long as a sneeze? Hey, I liked it. Though looking back, I'm starting to think that the main attraction of the show for me was the opening sequence, where quick clips from various gloomy dystopian movies were played along with the groovy sounds of Devo's "Workin' in a Coal Mine." It was, indeed, one of the truly great TV opening sequences of all time.

The best of these clips was a scene of a multitude of identical workers shuffling slowly and rhythmically down a cramped hallway. This, as it turns out, is a scene from the 1927 silent masterpiece Metropolis, a spectacular movie that holds up perfectly seven decades after its creation.

Metropolis is set sometime in the future, in an enormous high-tech city with a bit of a class disparity problem. Workers are kept in a dark underground sub-city and made to work punishing hours in order to keep the giant machines running, while the rich folk get to hang out in the fabulous aboveground city and chase cute girls around fountains. All this goes on just fine until a beautiful woman named Maria (Brigitte Helm) shows up and starts preaching sermons of hope to all the exhausted workers, thus making the master of Metropolis, John Fredersen (Alfred Abel), really nervous. As if that weren't bad enough, his naive, bloomer-clad son Freder has just fallen in love with Maria and decided he wants to save the entire working class somehow or another.

Fredersen, of course, formulates a plan to squash the influence Maria has over the workers. He conspires with a wild-haired inventor (Rudolf Klein-Rogge) to create a robot in Maria's image, then sends her out to sow discontent among the real Maria's followers. Naturally, this doesn't sit well with young Freder (Gustav Frohlich). Or the real Maria, for that matter.

Metropolis is a remarkable case of every element of a movie working together almost perfectly. The acting is surprisingly good, considering the melodramatic style often adopted by silent movie actors. And the visuals are absolutely stunning all the way through; the robot, prior to being transformed into a Maria look-alike, is truly gorgeous and eerie, and the sets are all incredible. There are several arresting scenes of the workers maintaining the machines, each one of them moving in perfect, jerky choreography to the rhythm of the city. Everything on the screen builds up the exquisite effect of a world ruled by technology and precision.

The movie ends on a hopeful note, despite the dark vision it lays down beforehand, and leaves you with a great deal of food for thought. Its themes are ones that have managed to stay relevant for a very long time. Are we still in danger of letting technology control us? Will there be a time when we forget about all the people who are cut out of the loop? Have we already? Whatever the answers may be, at least Metropolis is still asking the questions. On top of the philosophical currents, furthermore, it's a really entertaining movie. And hey, you can always imagine Devo playing in the background.

DROOL FACTOR: Well, Freder's not bad, especially when he changes out of his bloomers. But it's nothing to write home about.

GROSS-OUT FACTOR: Nothing to worry about.

STRONG CHICK FACTOR: Maria is a leader, a prophet, and a savior of society. But the evil robot's still cooler.

-- Caroline Ziemkiewicz

Metropolis is currently available on video and DVD.

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