It’s hard to think of a time when Fritz Lang’s Metropolis wasn’t the most influential science fiction film ever.
In the 84 years it has existed, it has been a Cartesian allegory, a political statement, a cautionary tale, a rallying cry for unionization and a sexualized statement of actualization (or however it was that Madonna contextualized her collaboration with David Fincher on “Express Yourself”). It was also one of the Holy Grails of “Lost Films” until its 2010 restoration added a half-hour of material found in the vault of an Argentine collector.
Cut mercilessly – and sometimes thoughtlessly – by assorted distributors, Metropolis spent the better part of the 20th century as a cinematic quilt. But in 1984, following a three-year restoration that involved traversing the world and assembling as many extant versions of the film as possible, Giorgio Moroder, the man whose music helped teach the world to Flashdance and who helped usher in the sound of the future with Donna Summer’s “I Feel Love,” released his reconstruction of Lang’s film. Moroder’s restoration screens at the Belcourt Theatre on Oct. 27.
In assembling what was then the most complete version of Metropolis, Moroder did the cinematic world a great service. But it was in three other actions he took that he created a conflict that burns brightly even to this day: He chose to eliminate the film’s intertitles, opting instead for the intimacy of subtitles. He added tints to the film’s monochromatic images (not an unheard of practice during the time of Metropolis‘ original release). And in his most controversial decision, he added a song score to the film.
Moroder worked with an early ‘80s hit parade of artists as disparate as Pat Benatar, Yes member Jon Anderson, Bonnie Tyler, Billy Squier, Adam Ant, Loverboy and Queen frontman Freddie Mercury. Queen had sought out Metropolis footage for their “Radio Ga Ga” video, and in dealing with Moroder (then the European rights holder), a bargain was struck.
Response was varied to say the least. Some were horrified, feeling that a work of great art had been processed through boilerplate MTV aesthetics and added programmed boom-boom beats. Others felt that Moroder had allowed the film to breathe again, energized with an infusion of blood, breath and voice. The debate was frenzied, and suddenly people were aware of Metropolis again.
From 1984 until 2001, this version was the most complete Metropolis in existence. It was considered an unfortunate compromise by some, exhibited in classes with the sound turned off and/or the color removed. I was fortunate to view the Moroder reconstruction again in a 1998 film class while luxuriating in the interplay of sound and vision. That is Moroder’s cinematic gift – he won Oscars for scoring Midnight Express and for co-writing the theme songs to Flashdance and Top Gun, in each case finding a way to use his array of synthesizers and engineers to get at the emotions of the images.
The Moroder Metropolis is a strange kind of musical. The songs serve as illustrations of whatever subtextual currents are in play, and the various vocal timbres provide an intriguing contrast to the characters’ heightened interactions.
Particularly fascinating are the selections featuring Benatar, Mercury and Tyler. Tyler’s raspy growl yields the greatest contrast to Moroder’s pulsating sequencers, while Benatar gets to deploy her operatic register in a way she very rarely did on her own records.
Freddie Mercury is, as always, Freddie Mercury, a bright nova of charisma and power. This work in conjunction with Moroder’s programming makes you lament that there was never a full album’s collaboration between the two.
But after a home video release in 1985, Moroder’s reconstruction of Metropolis faded from discussion, though the soundtrack album never went out of print. In the late ‘90s, with the DVD revolution in full swing, music rights issues kept the 1984 reconstruction out of play. After the 2001 and 2010 reconstructions, no one paid much attention to Moroder’s take.
Still, there has always been a vocal cult for the Moroder reconstruction of the film, and as the Internet became the preeminent global marketplace one could find the film with a thorough search. There were cut-out VHS tapes and early-adapter DVD-rips from increasingly-rare laserdiscs of the film. There were even fan edits which took the pristine footage from the 2001 and 2010 restorations, recut them and tinted them to match the Moroder version.
It’s been around for 27 years, but now, after its innovations have been supplanted by the official version, the Moroder reconstruction has resurfaced. Taken from one of the few surviving 35mm prints of the 1984 reconstruction (and preserving its cigarette burns and reel-bound filmitude), the HD restoration of the “Moroderopolis” is simultaneously futuristic and out-of-date, like Solaris or Terminator I. Metropolis proper became a binary and burnished creature of the digital world following the 2010 restoration, so the Moroder version is now able to take its place as a readily available piece of cinema (and synth) history. I love the songs, I love how clearly it lays out the story and I love its textures.
Tinted black-and-white is a remarkably expressive medium; its ability to reflect subtle emotional shifts is unique with regards to film language. With digital intermediates (and HD photography), one can adjust seemingly every aspect of the visual experience at any point, so I have to admit a partiality to the alchemy of photochemical processes. The crimsons and magentas of repression and exploitation find full flourish in Moroder’s tints, and he understands the way that analog and digital interact – his chord progressions reflect it beautifully.
Some view this version of Metropolis as a step backward after the 2010 restoration. Some people were never happy with Moroder’s version. But with this release, the 1984 Metropolis reconstruction is able to take its place in the ongoing evolution of Lang’s masterwork. The fact that it has a great beat and you can dance to it is just gravy.
Metropolis: The Giorgio Moroder Reconstruction (http://www.kino.com/theatrical/th_item.php?film_id=1232) screens at the Belcourt Theatre (www.belcourt.org) on Tuesday, Oct. 25th at 7 and 9:30 PM. NR, 84 min. Silent, with English subtitles and an English-language song score. Directed by Fritz Lang. Starring Brigitte Helm, Rudolf Klein-Rogge, Alfred Abel, and Gustav Fröhlich. Reconstruction by Giorgio Moroder.
All images courtesy of Kino Lorber, Inc.
