Horrorfest 2011: The Testament of Dr. Mabuse

Banned in Germany upon its first release in 1933 and never fully appreciated in the U.S. until the 1970s, THE TESTAMENT OF DR. MABUSE was cinematic genius Fritz Lang's second sound-era film after the classic Peter Lorre crime thriller, M. Like M, MABUSE features the character of Inspector Lohman (Otto Wernicke), making the film a bit of a pseudo-sequel. It's a more direct sequel to Lang's earlier DR. MABUSE: THE GAMBLER, a film I have never seen but should now add to my must-see list.

Aside from M, I've also seen one of Lang's other masterpieces many times, the sci-fi epic METROPOLIS. MABUSE shares many qualities with Lang's earlier efforts -- they all tell stories utilizing the many layers of an urban society, from top to bottom, and they're all set in dark and ominous locations. MABUSE has the gangland and police procedural angles of M and the expressionistic dream-like elements of METROPOLIS.

One thing MABUSE has that the others do not have is a supernatural element. But, I'm getting ahead of the plot -- the Mabuse of the title (Rudolf Klein-Rogge) is a criminal mastermind who has been held in an insane asylum for years, under the study of Professor Baum (Oscar Beregi, Sr.). Mostly catatonic, all Mabuse does is sit up in his bed and write endless pages of a criminal manifesto -- a sort of criminal genius' how-to guide for a variety of perfect crimes, ultimately leading up to the destruction of society, and maybe even mankind, through the acts of senseless chaos -- crime for crime's sake. Mabuse is one of the first of many super villains who would later be commonly found in comic books and Saturday morning cartoons (and later, big budget movies based on the same).

Mabuse's written ramblings are somehow making their way out of the asylum and manifesting themselves as actual plots in an intricate criminal underworld that is slowly but surely taking over the city. Among these criminals is Kent (Gustav Diessl) who has turned to crime as a result of the shitty economy, but starts to balk when the crimes veer towards violence, and is tempted to give it all up to run away with his sweetheart (Wera Liessem).

The afore-mentioned Inspector Lohman, a cranky but brilliant criminal investigator, becomes interested in the investigation when Hofmeister (Karl Meixner), a once promising cop who has since fallen from grace, contacts him with some leads. Unfortunately, before Lohman knows what has happened, Hofmeister is behind the bars of Baum's insane asylum, creepily chattering to himself in his cell.

I promised a supernatural element before. Without giving away too much, let's just say there are a couple ghosts walking around and that Mabuse might have some telepathic powers beyond that of your average every day criminal mastermind. Then again, maybe the ghosts are the figments of a crazed imagination? Maybe Mabuse isn't telepathic after all? You never know.

Most of the movie plays like a somewhat melodramatic police procedural. A lot of this is the stuff of movie serials -- an untouchable villain dispatching his endless hordes of henchman to ravage the city, while our heroes go through several cliffhangers, car chases, and explosions. The difference is, here we've got great production values, intricate plotting and ambiguously creepy moments instead of solved mysteries.

My favorite part was Karl Meixner's performance as the ex-cop apparently driven insane by Dr. Mabuse. He sings this creepy "Gloria" song whenever he becomes afraid, in a wavering, child-like voice. The use of the song here is somewhat reminiscent of the use of the child killer's whistling in M and similarly never failed to send a chill down my spine.

There's an interesting dichotomy in this film between the mundane and even gritty settings of warehouses, the street thug characters, the matter of fact cops and the more supernatural or comic booky elements of the story. One set, in particular, takes full advantage of this dichotomy -- an abandoned room in which the criminals receive their instructions from the mastermind, again, presumably Mabuse, who literally sits behind a curtain. One half of the room looks like an authentic abandoned room in a bombed out building, with peeling wallpaper and a bricked up window. The other half of the room is the territory of afternoon serials, with a row of lights illuminating a shadowy figure behind a curtain, who commands his minions with an authoritative (maybe even hypnotic?) voice.

I was glad to see another of Lang's films, albeit a less famous one than either M or METROPOLIS. In some ways, MABUSE is a little less ground breaking than its predecessors because it's simply not as flashy or gimmicky. But, in other ways, MABUSE is way ahead of its time in the way it uses several levels of a complex social system to carefully allow its story to unfold without hitting the audience over the head with too much explanation. In this way, MABUSE has more in common with the film so the latter half of the 20th century than it does with its contemporaries, which might explain why it took so long to get some recognition.