Three Films In One?

Three conflicting films merge to form a haunting enigma:

1. The Melodrama

   A simple tale of a proud hotel doorman who is humiliated when, due to his age and health, he is replaced and gets what he considers a demotion. Any possible threat of a social critique being drawn from this film is deflected by the star's hammy and largely unconvincing performance (Jannings' old man moves like Richard Pryor's "Mudbone" character - but is not intentionally funny), which ensures nothing remains but a sappy melodrama.

   

2. The Allegory

   An allegory, told with breathtaking visuals (and zero intertitles, thus transcending language barriers), of the emptiness of modern urban life and its superficial relations - where a person's worth (in his own eyes, as well as in the judgment of others) is entirely dependent on meaningless objects (a uniform) and insignificant "achievements" (lifting a weight). The initial air of respectability displayed by the protagonist appears buffoonish, and his loss of social status upon demotion (as measured by women's view of him) merely confirms the senselessness of his entire existence.

   But the cinematic device of dwarfing him within the oppressive skyscrapers, tenements, and traffic reduces the viewer's tendency to look down on him as some unique oddity, and instead guides viewers to see him as an Everyman, and ask: are our own notions of respectability and achievement substantially different? Who does not link their identity with career and social status - which could similarly be suddenly wiped out by bureaucratic fiat?

   

3. The Fairy Tale

   A Cinderella-like fairy tale, created by appending to The Melodrama "quite an improbable epilogue" (quoting the tale's only intertitle).

   

Haunting Enigma: What's Going On Here?

The artistry of The Allegory makes it difficult to accept any claim that the existence of three films merged into one resulted from chance or incompetence, and cries out for a credible explanation.

The sole intertitle exists only to provide an explanation for the epilogue that produced The Fairy Tale:

Here our story should really end, for in actual life the forlorn old man would have little to look forward to but death.

The author took pity on him, however, and provided quite an improbable epilogue.

The essay “Der Letzte Mann”, by F.W. Murnau - Storytelling and Visual breakthrough techniques - Transforming “The last man” into “The last laugh” offers a far more plausible explanation - "The Bottom Line": The reason is actually very simple. The film's producer Erich Pommer, representing the general concept of the time, thought that a film with such a bad end would have very little success (Loader, 1988: 42). Even more, he was concerned about its success in the United States, where the happy end was almost a must. As a result, he forced Murnau and Mayer to add a happy end in the film.

This also suggests an explanation for The Melodrama: while The Allegory appears to be a timeless masterpiece, in its day (as well as in this day) it would likely be considered an art film, with little commercial potential. Superimposing The Melodrama, a more conventional film with a larger-than-life protagonist, played by a big box-office draw, would ensure that The Allegory reached a wider audience - and thus had a better chance of providing a return on investment.

Three Films Or One?

Although, on first viewing, the epilogue appears jarringly disconnected from the look and tone of what preceded it, a closer look reveals that the epilogue is no less disturbing.

First of all, the intertitle undermines the power of the epilogue, denying the viewer the relief from angst that happy endings are supposed to supply. It declares that what appeared up to that point reflected "actual life", while what follows was quite improbable. So the intertitle is an instance of Brechtian Verfremdungseffekt ("distancing effect") - 12 years before Brecht coined the term - in all the senses defined at MIT Global Shakespeares: The distancing effect is a technique used in theater and cinema that prevents the audience from losing itself completely in the narrative, instead making it a conscious critical observer. The actor accomplishes this by directly addressing the audience, barring them from feeling empathy (film), interrupting the narrative (cinema), or drawing attention to the filmmaking or theatrical process.

Secondly, the epilogue is not as disconnected as it seems. In the protagonist's final encounter with the public, the scene ends with the laughing faces of a public (mostly women) mocking him behind his back. He then skulks to his family, where he is turned away, and finally returns to the hotel washroom, the final scene before the epilogue.

Moreover, the epilogue restores his status as a pompous buffoon. He gorges on absurd portions of food, grossly smears his whiskers in it, and gulps down champagne rather than sipping. His former boss, who we've seen deeply bowing to hotel clientele, shows him no more respect than a reluctant nod.

Most importantly, the epilogue shows that the theme of The Allegory - the emptiness of modern urban life and its superficial relations - is not limited to lower socio-economic classes. His uniform gave him identity - and all around him viewed him as nothing more than that. Now he has merely replaced the uniform with new wealth - and all around him view him as nothing more than his wealth. This is grotesquely illustrated in the Python-like final scene of a seeming endless line of hotel staff with outstretched palms.

In short, the epilogue restores his fragile, illusory world (shifting his role from soldier to fat cat), while again showing us the emptiness and absurdity of that world.

As with The Threepenny Opera (Die Dreigroschenoper) four years later, this epilogue passing for a "happy ending" reveals the deeply cynical view pervading some quarters of Weimar culture.