Содержание

участок

Действие происходит в еврейском гетто средневековья. Прага, фильм начинается с Раввин Лёв, глава еврейской общины города читает звезды. Лёв предсказывает бедствие своему народу и сообщает старейшинам общины. На следующий день Император Священной Римской империи подписывает указ, объявляющий, что евреи должны покинуть город до новолуния, и посылает рыцаря Флориана передать указ. Тем временем Лёв начинает изобретать способ защиты евреев.

По прибытии в гетто высокомерный Флориан испытывает влечение к Мириам, дочери Лева, к которой его помощник также испытывает привязанность. Лоу уговаривает Флориана напомнить Императору, что он предсказал бедствия и рассказал Императорские гороскопы, и просит аудиенции с ним. Пофлиртовав с Мириам, Флориан уходит. Лёв начинает создавать Голема, огромное существо из глины, которое он оживит, чтобы защитить свой народ. Флориан возвращается позже с просьбой от Императора, чтобы Лоу посетил Фестиваль роз во дворце. Он разделяет романтический момент с Мириам, в то время как Лоу рассказывает своему помощнику, что он тайно создал Голема и требует его помощи, чтобы оживить его. С помощью сложной магической процедуры Лоу и помощник вызывают дух Астарот и заставить его, согласно древним текстам, произнести волшебное слово, которое оживит. Это слово написано Лёвом на бумаге, которую затем вкладывают в амулет и вставляют в грудь Голема. Голем просыпается, и раввин сначала использует его как прислугу.

Когда Лева вызывают во дворец на фестиваль, он приносит с собой Голема, чтобы произвести впечатление на публику. Тем временем Флориан ускользает из суда, чтобы встретиться с Мириам, дом которой охраняет помощник Лева по приказу Лева. Вернувшись во дворец, двор одновременно напуган и заинтригован прибытием Голема. Впечатленный, Император просит показать еще сверхъестественные подвиги Лева. Лёв проектирует волшебный экран, показывающий историю евреев, инструктируя своих слушателей не смеяться и даже не говорить. По прибытии Ахашверош, то Бродячий еврей, суд начинает смеяться, и дворец внезапно начинает рушиться. По приказу Лоу Голем вмешивается и подпирает падающий потолок, спасая двор. В благодарность Император прощает евреев и позволяет им остаться.

Лёв и Голем возвращаются в гетто, распространяя весть о спасении евреев. Лоу возвращается в свой дом и начинает замечать странное поведение Голема. После того, как ему удалось удалить амулет, он читает, что грядущие астрологические движения заставят Астарота овладеть Големом и атаковать его создателей. Помощник вызывает Лева, чтобы он присоединился к празднованию на улице. Когда община радуется, помощник идет сообщить Мириам, но находит ее в постели с Флорианом. Опустошенный, он реанимирует Голема и приказывает ему удалить Флориана из здания, но Голем, находящийся теперь под влиянием Астарота, буквально делает это, сбрасывая Флориана с крыши дома, убивая его. В ужасе помощник и Мириам бегут, но Голем поджигает здание, и Мириам падает без сознания.

Помощник Лева спешит в синагогу, чтобы предупредить молящихся евреев о бедствии, но по прибытии в дом Лева они обнаруживают, что он горит, а Голем и Мириам пропали. В отчаянии сообщество умоляет Лоу спасти их от неистового Голема. Лоу выполняет заклинание, которое убирает Астарота с Голема. Вскоре Голем, который бродит по гетто, вызывая разрушения, оставляет Мириам, которую он тащил за волосы по улицам, лежащей на каменной поверхности и направляется к воротам гетто. Он выламывает ворота и видит группу играющих девочек. Все они убегают, кроме одного, которого он подбирает, и теперь у него послушный характер. Из любопытства она снимает амулет с Голема; он роняет ее и рушится. Тем временем Лева находит Мириам, которая просыпается вскоре после этого. К счастью, воссоединившись, к ним неловко присоединяется помощник Лева, который сообщает ему, что евреи ждут его у ворот. После ухода Лоу помощник обещает Мириам, что никогда никому не расскажет о ее запретном романе с Флорианом, и просит взамен прощения за свои действия. Тем временем евреи собираются у ворот, чтобы найти мертвого Голема. Радуясь и молясь, они несут его обратно в гетто, Звезда Давида появляется на экране в конце фильма.

The Silent Cinema Blogathon: The Golem: How He Came into the World (1920)

Today marks a special day for Tales from the Border, as I partake for the first time in a blogathon! This first blogathon is the Silent Cinema Blogathon, hosted by the blog In the Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood and Lauren Champkin. Please head over to the blogathon page and have a look at all of the other great blogs contributing to this event. I have written on the German Expressionist classic, The Golem: How He Came into the World (1920), a cinematic oddity that will leave a profound impact on all viewers. Enjoy!

The Golem: How He Came into the World (1920) ranks among the most utterly bizarre of silent films. It combines both the naturalism of Nosferatu (1922) and the over-the-top visual gothic of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920). It’s a film focusing on the plight of the Jews in a largely anti-Semitic time, filmed in Germany in the year of 1920 and on the cusp of near social-collapse. There’s plenty of evidence that it is both a Jewish film to its core and an anti-Semitic production. It’s a film of polarities and unity, order and chaos.

I think it’s because of these bizarre qualities that the film has fallen by the wayside, giving way to more overtly gothic expressionist horrors from Germany of the time. It never quite goes all the way into the realm of the gothic, though acclaimed cinematographer Karl Freund makes great use of the gothic in his lighting and photography. Perhaps the film cannot be considered a purely gothic experience; rather, it straddles the line of being the cinematic equivalent of a fairy tale, carrying across the stylistic choices and morality of these tales.

In this respect, The Golem ranks among the finest silent fairy tales committed to the screen. For those that have loved films such as Douglas Fairbanks’ The Thief of Bagdad (1924) and Jean Cocteau’s The Beauty and the Beast (1946), you will find much to love in The Golem. But at the same time, there are marked differences. The film doesn’t have the effervescent air that these others have. It is frequently grotesque and unnatural, and this odd combination of sumptuous visuals with the more horror-themed material creates a jagged edge that these other films don’t have.

The appearance of Astaroth is the most memorable scene in the film, as it is dripping in gothic terror.

The center of all of these opposites and polarities is director and star Paul Wegener’s Golem. He is created by Rabbi Loew (Albert Steinrück) to protect the Jewish people of medieval Prague from an oncoming calamity that the Rabbi forsees in the stars. He is so desperate to save his people that he uses the black arts to craft the Golem out of clay, and then summon the demon Astaroth to tell him the word of life. With this word he brings the Golem to life. In many respects the Golem is just another representation of that most insidious of gothic terrors, Frankenstein’s monster, but in many other ways he has a symbolic power that Mary Shelley’s creation lacks. He is at once both a cultural hero of the Jewish people, and a ghastly anti-Semitic caricature. He is the rage incarnate of the Jewish people against those who would supress them, and also a symbol of their oncoming destruction. The fact that such a film was made in 1920s Germany, a time in which the Nazi Party was growing and which would capitalise on common anti-Semitism also speaks to the cultural relevancy of the film.

What exactly were director/writer/star Paul Wegener’s intentions with this film? I can’t say for sure. But like the very best of fairy tales, it is a cinematic oddity full of multiple meanings and dualities. It’s a film that only grew with social relevance in the 1930s and 40s. Wegener’s own life is full of these dualities as well; whilst Jewish artists were arrested, persecuted, and exiled under the reign of the Nazis, Paul Wegener became an actor of the state. At the same time, he donated lots of money to resistance groups and also hid the persecuted in his own home. Wegener, much like his magnum opus, is an oddity.

The Golem is very much worth your time, and I urge all with an interest in Jewish cultural studies and the history of silent cinema to search it out. If you find it even a little bit perplexing, then you’ll understand my thoughts on the film. At once a cinematic spectacle and a culturally important film, both beautiful and grotesque. The Golem is a film that will be talked about far into the years to come.

User Reviews

I’ve only watched it myself (3 times so far) on VHS but I do have the Kino edition in my «To Watch» list, purchased as part of the «German Horror Classics» 4-Disc Box Set.

As for the film itself, I concede that it’s the least of the 3 celebrated German Expressionist classics of the early 20s – the others, of course, being THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1919) and NOSFERATU (1922). Still, the production itself is quite impressive to my eyes, the «bizarre set design» being the best of it, but I also love the creation scene (with the aid of the demon Astaroth and some notable special effects) and the scene where the old Rabbi describes the Jewish pogroms (which we see superimposed on the screen) to the unimpressed and downright sneering aristocrats, not to mention the rather moving way the Golem meets its comeuppance – which I’m sure even you will concede that it clearly inspired one of the most famous sequences in James Whale’s FRANKENSTEIN (1931). In fact, I’d say that even the domesticated monster of BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935) owes its genesis more to this film than the Shelley original, where we see it carrying errands for its master the Rabbi (before it runs amok for plot, and genre-defining, purposes). Paul Wegener’s acting may feel somewhat comical today, but he certainly managed to convey the lumbering creature’s brutish strength – coupled with its inherent innocence and highly susceptible nature.

Actually, this was Wegener’s third stab at the character after THE GOLEM of 1914 (set in contemporary times!) – the 1920 version, in fact, was identified by the subtitle HOW IT CAME INTO THE WORLD – and the semi-comic sequel THE GOLEM AND THE BALLERINA (1917), both of which seem not to have survived, alas. Happily, though, Wegener’s earlier THE STUDENT OF PRAGUE (1913; which is another much-filmed supernatural tale) – in which he played the principal dual roles but did not direct – has and, in fact was recently released on DVD by, of all people, Alpha. I caught this on Italian TV several years ago and thought it was pretty good; I hope they do a repeat one of these days, or else some other DVD company (like Kino, for instance) will take the trouble to release it in a restored edition – preferably with the apparently rarer Robert Wiene/Conrad Veidt 1926 remake in tow

P.S. There was a French remake of THE GOLEM in 1936, which I’ve seen and even managed to tape off the TV: this, too, is basically a historical melodrama rather than a horror film but I recall it being very adequate and featuring some expensive production values to boot.

This is the most exciting film I have seen of those made before ‘Kane.’ It is far better than those usually clumped into the so-called expressionist movement, particularly better than ‘Caligari.’

The lighting, framing and rhythm of the thing is about of the same fine quality. Where it astounds is in the sets, which are Gaudi-esque. The Jews are portrayed in a darkly sensual, magical way. far different than the sly banker conspiracy that would later emerge. These Jews are spontaneously powerful, not deliberately so, and the matter is a curious milestone in the history leading to the holocaust.

But I’m more interested in its effect on film. Gaudi’s architectural ideas were based on the inherent magic of environmental clay and its movement. The Golem is very much in that tradition. And so is the magic of creating moving images. Three levels in each scene, perfectly folded. The final touch: the enveloping warmth of the Jewess comes from the director’s wife.

Absolutely the best film of 1920, and on my ‘must see’ list.

Although this 1920 German silent does not really rank alongside the truly great silent films, it remains a fascinating oddity. Based on European Jewish folklore, it tells the story a Jewish community in Prague which is threatened with expulsion from the city. In an effort to protect his people, Rabbi Loew creates a man-like creature made of clay and uses it to impress the Emperor. Unfortunately, the magic backfires, and when the Golem falls into the hands of the Rabbi’s perfidious assistant disaster results.

Much of the film’s charm is in its visual style. The sets by Hans Poelzig are a strange but cohesive mixture of medieval, nouveau, and surrealism, and the cinematography by legendary photography Karl Freund uses high contrast black and white to truly remarkable effect. The Poelzig-Freund combination would cast an extremely long shadow, and THE GOLEM would influence not only such German films as Fitz Lang’s METROPOLIS but the entire cycle of 1930s American horror films that began with the 1931 Bela Lugosi Dracula.

Several plot devices and the look of the Golem, as played by Paul Wegener, would also prove particularly influential for director James Whale’s famous 1932 FRANKENSTEIN. Whether or not Boris Karloff or make-up artist Jack Pierce knew the film is uncertain—but Whale, who was fond of German cinema, certainly did, and traces of THE GOLEM can be seen throughout his most famous works.

Over the past several decades a number of film historians have attempted to reinterpret THE GOLEM in light of the Holocaust. There may actually be a certain validity to this, for although the Jews are portrayed sympathetically they are very clearly outsiders, and their religion seems less like religion than witchcraft—and indeed Rabbi Loew might be said to practice black magic in bringing the Golem to life. This sense of social estrangement and religious stigmatism does seem indicative of the anti-Semitism that will ultimately explode into furnaces of Nazi Germany. All the same, it is worth noting that THE GOLEM is a fundamentally Jewish story to begin with, and it is perhaps best to think of it in those terms instead of using hindsight to impose modern meanings upon the film.

There are several home market releases of the film. While I have not seen it, I am told the Timeless Studios VHS release is weak; I have, however, seen the Gotham DVD release, and although there are some quality issues this inexpensive DVD is not at all bad. Still, my preference and recommendation is the Kino DVD. Unlike many Kino editions, it does not have anything significant in the way of bonuses, but the overall presentation is very fine and likely represents a best-possible presentation short of full digital restoration.

Imagine shooting a feature-length horror movie with the camera built into your mobile phone. Now imagine disabling sound and colour on your phonecam, only being able to shoot a few seconds at a time, each minute costing a small fortune in recording material, imagine that phonecam being large and unwieldy and kind of knackered so that the already low-resolution image is flickery and erratically exposed, and it plays back too fast so that people look like wound-up dolls. It also exposes blueish light more than reddish light, so each shoot is unpredictable, but of course you’ll only know that the next day when the film has been processed.

Welcome to movie-making in the year 1920 AD.

Now go shoot a masterpiece that will still be watched, talked about and revered in a hundred years.

Anyway, what can I say, a stupendous film. Watch it from the edge of your seat.

I caught this restored version of the 1920 German silent classic at Lincoln Center where a new musical score was premiered by the Chamber Music Society. I had never seen the film before and was frankly amazed at the imagery in the sets and costumes and editing of the film. The film’s director, Paul Wegener, wearing a thickly padded outfit and wig and high-heeled boots plays the main character, «The Golem». A mythical character from Jewish folklore. For its day, the special effects were also intriguing. I resist describing the movie as anti-semitic but I believe that the portrayal of the jewish ghetto was depicted so dramatically to show that the jews in Prague were outsiders and not welcome in mainstream society. This is evident in the fact that when a nobleman comes to the ghetto, he is greeted by a mammoth closed gate that looks like a precursor to the one used in King-Kong. And most notably, during the creation sequence, a satanic figure appears on screen that would coincide with the European belief a that time that Jews walk hand-in-hand with the Dark forces.

In 16th-century Prague, a Jewish rabbi (Albert Steinrück) creates a giant creature from clay, called the Golem, and using sorcery, brings the creature to life in order to protect the Jews of Prague from persecution.

The film also has an interesting presentation of anti-Semitism, where the emperor accuses the Jews of killing Christ, among other things, and orders them to evacuate the ghetto. How did Germany in 1920 feel about the Jews? We now know how they felt a decade later, but was this hatred always there or invented by Hitler? If it existed, how did it translate to this film’s reception by the German people?

Others have pointed out that Karl Freund’s camera is remarkably still for a man who would go on to be known for the most innovative camera techniques in film history (I dare say he is the greatest cinematographer who ever lived). Mayo says there is an «inventive use of extreme camera angles», but I did not notice. The lack of movement does not hinder the film, however.

Lee Price praises the film, saying the only fault of the film is «the inconsistency of the acting», though I did not find it distracting at all (even if the frightened faces of the extras are a bit extreme). Price calls the architecture of the film as influential (or more so) than the German Expressionism of «Caligari». He is not alone in this view: Ivan Butler makes a point to mention the «strange twisted buildings and crooked streets filled with steeple-hatted inhabitants», and Siegfried Kracauer singles out the «maze of crooked streets and stooped houses» devised by Professor Hans Poelzig.

THE GOLEM is actually the third Golem film that starred Paul Wegener as the mythical character. The first film, THE GOLEM (1915), only currently exists in fragments and the second one, THE GOLEM AND THE DANCING GIRL (1917) is completely lost. The film most people call «The Golem» is this 1920 version and it’s more correct title is «THE GOLEM: HOW HE CAME INTO THE WORLD». Wegener not only starred in the films but he wrote and co-directed them as well! The film is a tale based on a Jewish myth about a man-made creature that came to life in the 16th century to defend the Jews from persecution. This film stays pretty close to that legend and there have been other Golem films since.

The story begins with a royal edict being announced. It says that all Jews are to leave the land. However, the Rabbi is liked by the emperor and so the Rabbi hatches a plan. First, he’ll build a Golem out of clay and animate it. Then, he’ll take it with him to see the emperor—and threaten to use the Golem unless the edict is canceled. Well, the plan works out very well and the edict is reversed. However, given that the rabbi used the forces of darkness to make the beast, there is a strong chance this «blessing» will become a curse, so he’s quick to deactivate the creature. Stupidly, his assistant, in a fit of rage, reactivates it and the creature runs amok—burning and killing pointlessly.

The story gets high marks for creating an excellent and menacing monster—years before Universal created what we now think of as horror monsters. The story is also excellent—especially for the silent age. The only negative is that the story ends very abruptly and there just isn’t enough payoff at the end. Once they lose control of the monster and it goes off terrorizing the countryside, it all ends with a bit of a fizzle. Still, for 1920, it’s a heck of a good film.

By the way, seeing this film come out just before the Nazi era is interesting. It could mean that Germans were more accepting of Jews and Jewish themes (since the film is about the persecution of them) but I also wonder if the Gentiles took it to be a warning about the Jews—as it shows them dabbling into the occult and being a bit of a menace! So here we have a film that could be pro-Jewish or ant-Semetic depending on the audience! I wonder what the German government in 1933 did about this film—did they ban it or use it to promote the myth of the «evil Jew»?

For an interesting look at the life of Paul Wegener, try this site—http://www.missinglinkclassichorror.co.uk/wegener.htm.

Also, if you look on IMDb for information about the first Golem movie, it seems that many have confused this for the 1920 film—this should account for why the film has so many votes even though only a few minutes of film exists today.

The giant frame of Paul Wegener as the Golem is one of the best known characters from the silent era, and one of the first icons of horror. Der Golem is actually the third film to feature the character, the first being The Golem (1915), and the second The Golem And The Dancing Girl (1917), which is a short comedy with Wegener donning the costume to frighten a girl he is in love with. Tragically, those two films are now considered lost, and only fragments equalling about 14 minutes of the first film remain. This film is actually a prequel, and it’s full title is Der Golem: Wie Er In Die Welt Kam (How He Came Into The World), but is now commonly know as simply Der Golem.

The Jews of medieval Prague face persecution from the townsfolk. Terrified of their doomed fate, Rabbi Loew (Albert Steinruck) uses his skills in black magic to create The Golem, a mythical figure from Jewish folklore. He is made entirely from clay, and has an amulet in his chest that gives him power, and when removed turns him back into lifeless clay. He is initially used as a servant, and then to terrify the townsfolk who are threatening them. The Golem eventually gets tired of being used as a tool of fear and begins to turn on his creator, and starts to lay waste to the Ghetto.

Like the majority of films made in Weimar Germany, the film has an expressionist tone, with lavish, artistic sets that dominate the frame. Similar in feel to the great Das Cabinet Des Dr. Caligari, it is however more subtle in its artistic flair, and lacks Caligari’s rickety (although wonderful in its own way) sets. It is also quite terrifying in its realisation of a segregation that would occur in the country only a decade later, although it does portray the Jews as vengeful and as studying the dark arts.

The Golem itself is a great movie monster. Tragic in the same way as Frankenstein’s monster, he is brought into the world without having asked to be, and is expected to carry out terrible acts against his will. Paul Wagener portrays him with all silent intensity and uncontrollable rage, with his towering frame sending his enemies running for the hills. He also impressively co-wrote and co-directed the film. This is an enjoyable film that breezes by in its rather slight running time, and can be forgiven for some over-acting and the occasional tedious scene. It also has some interesting social comments, and is a frightening prelude to one of the most horrific periods in Europe’s history.

One more interesting parallel to the 1931 film «Frankenstein» is in how the Golem, originally created to protect the Jews but now on a rampage, is destroyed. It is a twist on a similar innocent act in «Frankenstein», one so horrific in its effect that the scene was exorcised from prints of Frankenstein throughout the production code era. I suggest you watch both films and see what I’m talking about.

This landmark film is one of the earliest surviving expressionist works, and it’s art direction and photography— while not as stunning as a film like Caligari— is still extremely interesting with its misshapen sets and its use of light and shadow, and light within shadow. Unlike Caligari, the themes of this film were resonant long after its release, and perhaps still are today.

The Golem is a tolerance film that studies in depth the relationship between Jews and Christians in Prague. To his credit, Wegener refuses to impose stereotypes on either party, instead concentrating on individual characters and using mass characterizations only to highlight the themes of the film.

Unlike stereotypical Jews, rich guys with big noses who rub pennies together, the Jews of Prague are decidedly poor. It is interesting to note that the Jews are all dressed in black and with very few exceptions appear to be bent with age, a tribute to an aging and dying religion. However, they are also portrayed to be earnest and hard-working, with strong communal instincts. The Christians, by contrast, appear bright, shiny, and new. They are dressed in light colors and are young and wealthy, and outwardly appear to be God’s new chosen. However, they are also portrayed as foolish bohemians who do not take God seriously. In the end, Christian innocents (and blonde-blue Aryan, coincidentally)are able to stop the Golem’s rampage, but only because he allows it. The final shot shows the Star of David lying in the dust as the Jews come to carry their fallen champion back into the ghetto, closing the great door behind them and leaving you with a feeling that they are gone forever. However, it should be noted that the Golem is not only a champion to the Jews, but a symbol of revival.

Another interesting comparison in this film is that between the Golem and Jesus. Like man, the Golem is made of sand and clay, then given life by a supernatural force. They are both immaculate conceptions, with the Golem being motherless while Jesus is born to a virgin mother. Jesus in his time was a champion of the Jews, as is the Golem, and each of them rebelled against the wickedness of the authorities that governed them.

This open-ended presentation of the struggle of Christianity vs. Judaism is what makes this film truly great. I suspect that this relevant elevation above the ordinary is the reason for its survival, even though it is the third film of this series. The fact that Wegener was able to make a film that is so ambiguous is a credit to him considering the circumstances surrounding German film-making at the time.

Rabbi Loew is portrayed as a wise and heroic leader of the Jewish community, which lives in a winding ghetto. He creates the Golem for a noble cause— to protect his people against eviction by the Christians—and in this cause succeeds after the Christian court is saved by the Golem from divine repudiation after laughing at Loew’s presentation of the Old Testament. The creation scene is particularly interesting, not only in its visuals, but for the fact that in this scene Rabbi Loew wears white (for purity), yet performs a ceremony that is holy in nature yet seems like witchcraft. The Golem turns on him when he seeks to continue using the Golem’s services for selfish purposes after the Golem has accomplished his mission.

Miriam and Loew’s servant are portrayed quite differently. Miriam is a dark seductress who is unwittingly the cause of the Golem’s destructive rampage. She is only saved from the hands of the Golem by another act of divine intervention, when the communal prayer of the Jews in the streets of the ghetto results in her release. She usually dresses in dark colors. However, there is also a scene before her affair with Florian in which she wears white (purity of a different kind). Also notice how Florian carelessly twirls a flower when he delivers the edict to Rabbi Loew. This is a brief, but effective, example of his character and foreshadows things to come. Loew’s servant is the only other young Jewish character in the film besides a few Jewish children in the street, and it is his revival of the Golem during his jealous rage against Florian that sets the Golem on his destructive path. Like Loew, he is unable to remove the Star of David from the Golem’s chest once he begins to use the Golem for selfish gain. In the end, he shares a poignant moment with Miriam where they seek forgiveness and confidence about their actions.

The depth and attention to detail that Wegener shows as a director (and writer) in this film helps to place it among the great films in the brief history of cinema. It’s message is particularly haunting considering the events of the next 25 years after its release.

Letterboxd — Your life in film

Where to watch

The Golem: How He Came into the World

Synopsis

Suffering under the tyrannical rule of Rudolf II in 16th-century Prague, a Talmudic rabbi creates a giant warrior to protect the safety of his people. Sculpted of clay and animated by the mysterious secrets of the Cabala, the Golem was a seemingly indestructible juggernaut, performing acts of great heroism, yet equally capable of dreadful violence. When the rabbi’s assistant takes control of the Golem and attempts to use him for selfish gain, the lumbering monster runs rampant, abducting the rabbi’s daughter and setting fire to the ghetto.

Directors

Producer

Writers

Cinematography

Art Direction

Set Decoration

Composer

Costumes

Studio

Country

Languages

Alternative Titles

Genres

Themes

76 mins More at IMDb TMDb Report this film

Popular reviews

jewish folklore made into an astrological, expressionist monster movie about power and creation. the fx and compositions are pretty stunning and help merge some of its implicit ideas about magic and storytelling. happy hanukkah!

Whether it be clay figures or cadavers, the idea of imbuing inanimate objects with life has long been a staple of the horror story. From European folk tales and gothic literature, to pulpy American potboilers, horror has long been marked by stories of human beings granting life to things that have no business living. «The Golem: How He Came into the World» is such a tale. Based on Jewish folklore, the film is an expressionistic and engrossing look at humankind’s desire to play God.

When the Jewish population of Prague is ousted by the emperor, a Rabbi takes it upon himself to protect his people by creating a Golem, a hulking clay figure come to life. Paul Wegener and Carl…

Many believe this is the forefather of Frankenstein! A remarkable Silent film that lives up to its reputation! One of the unexpected joys to be had was the romance blooming between the two lovebirds Knight Florian and Jewish maiden Miriam! Extremely well done with actors that were exceptionally expressive! I could feel their hearts beating as one all the way from here! For a 1920s film it ventured a little bit too close to risque territory I imagine!

A Rabbi creates a monster from clay, the very idea of creating such a creature that would do his bidding was no doubt intoxicating…

Spellbinding testament of obsession and paranoia, breathtaking in its scope and unprecedented special effects that enhanced the sensation of demonic dementia. Magically, Wegener, behind and in front of the camera, also managed to create a fantasy perspective of heartwarming appeal and insightful topics through an iconic image. Pure genius.

The Golem: How He Came Into the World is a true classic. It is drenched in atmosphere created by beautiful expressionistic designs captured in crooked shots staring at outrageous architecture. Paul Wegener really made a great film with this, compared to the weaker efforts of his prior work. Here is a film of tragedy and medieval fantasy and a simple depiction of the follies of man, where we destroy ourselves through simple errors and misfortune. The film is also rooted in Jewish heritage and mysticism, and deals with anti-semitism, which gives it a cultural angle that few films have dealt with. Then, to cap it off, the images are stunning and the design of the Golem is rightfully iconic. It’s just an all-round awesome film!

This is evolutionarily halfway between Georges Méliès and James Whale. It has the feel of Kafka’s Prague and Disney’s Grimm. While it’s a cornerstone of German Expressionism, it seems older than the genre or even the medium of cinema itself. It recalls legends from Prometheus and Samson. Its Mitteleuropa DNA flowed Jerry Segal & Joe Shuster and Bob Kane & Bill Finger and in every superhero movie since. Despite its happy ending and Star of David fade-out, watching this today, I sense the falling barometric pressure and the storm of National Socialism on the horizon only a few years later.

”The Golem is on a rampage!”

The Golem’s Gonna Getcha!

This is exactly why you shouldn’t sculpt clay monsters and bring them to life via mysterious secrets of the Cabala! It all starts out with oohs and aahs, but then later, there’s the running and the screaming and the rampaging.

Co-written, co-directed and co-starring Paul Wegener this classic German Expressionist film was the third in his series, and the only one of the three to have not been lost over time.

The set design and overall look is fantastic, but the pacing’s a bit slow and it takes way too long to tell what is a rather simplistic story.

BONUS POINTS for beating Frankenstein’s monster to the punch.

”Amuse us again with your magical arts”

A wonderfully imaginative and visually arresting silent film in the German expressionist style. One can see much of the DNA for James Whale’s Frankenstein here. In fact, this feels very much like a hybrid of Frankenstein and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Rabbi, imagined as both sorcerer and mad scientist alike, breathing life into a monster he crafted by his own hand. A tragic monster ultimately felled by the innocent hand of a little girl, returned to mere inanimate clay. A fine example of the pioneering creative spirit of film makers in the 1920s. Many films from this era were vastly ahead of their time, to the point where one almost suspects time travel, particularly in…

“The revered rabbi Löw reads in the stars that grave misfortune threatens the Jewish community” reads the first title card after the credits. If only he knew just how grave it would turn out to be! 🙁

Afterthoughts: My affinity to German Expressionism has existed since the first time I ever saw a still from Robert Weine’s masterpiece, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, in the student handbook given to me on my first day of Film Studies at college when I was 17 years old. If I remember correctly, the first couple of pages were about the types of ‘realism’ in film. The booklet being very summarised and uncomplicated, outlined a handful of these…

As far as German Expressionist films go, The Golem didn’t wow me compared to the likes of Nosferatu or Dr. Caligari. I initially tried to watch this on Amazon Prime a couple months ago, but it had some god awful dubbing that chilled me to the core. Seek out the version on YouTube instead. I felt pretty indifferent during the entire runtime. The Jewish folklore angle was interesting along with it being one of the first “monsters come to life” films. The set design was impeccable as one comes to expect with these types of movies. Angular, whimsical and very gothic. I couldn’t help but imagine Agnès Varda mixed with Juggernaut when seeing the titular character. If you’re a horror nerd or silent film lover then you’ll want to see this.

While not as fêted as Caligari and Nosferatu, The Golem is an important film in the history of cinema as well as horror. Released in 1920 (the same year as Caligari and two years prior to Nosferatu), it’s very much in the vanguard of German Expressionism, with its use of stylized sets and dramatic chiaroscuro lighting. The film tells the story of the persecution of Jewish citizens by the Christian court and how they find their saviour in the clay form of the golem; brought to life through the invocation of Astaroth, one of Hell’s unholy trinity.

Man, if rabbis still had sick astrology towers, maybe I’d actually go to temple!

Голем (фильм, 1920)

Пауль Вегенер
Альберт Штайнрюк
Лида Салмонова

Projektion-AG Union (PAGU)

Только на территории России:

Голем
Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam
Жанр
Выход фильма «Голем» (оригинальное название — Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam)

«Голем, как он пришёл в мир» (нем. Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam ) — немой художественный фильм эпохи киноэкспрессионизма. Снят Карлом Бёзе и Паулем Вегенером по мотивам еврейской легенды о Големе, оживлённой магией глиняной статуе. Премьера фильма состоялась в Германии 29 октября 1920 года.

Содержание

Сюжет

Император (Отто Гебюр) намерен изгнать евреев из пражского гетто под тем предлогом, что они практикуют чёрную магию. Рабби Лёв (Альберт Штайнрюк) видит единственную (довольно парадоксальную) возможность предотвратить изгнание — действительно обратиться к тёмным силам. Вызванный им демон Астарот сообщает рабби тайное Имя, которое может оживить Голема (Пауль Вегенер). Создав могучего глиняного человека и вдохнув в него жизнь, рабби ведёт его к Императору как демонстрацию чудесной мощи своей магии. На приёме у Императора рабби сотворяет ещё одно чудо — показывает на стене дворца историю Исхода, предварительно взяв с присутствующих слово сохранять тишину. Когда придворный шут это условие нарушает, со стены сходит ожившее изображение Моисея и взмахом руки сокрушает дворец. Император умоляет рабби спасти его, обещая не изгонять евреев из города; тогда Голем по приказу хозяина подпирает руками падающие каменные балки и спасает Императора и придворных.

Рабби и Голем с триуфом возвращаются в гетто. Рабби вынимает из груди Голема амулет с именем, который даёт истукану жизнь, и собирается разрушить его, но его отвлекает помощник Фамулус, который зовёт его на праздник.

В это время дочь рабби Мириам (Лида Салмонова) прячет у себя в спальне Флориана — одного из придворных Императора. К ней приходит Фамулус (который тоже в неё влюблён) и хочет проводить её в синагогу. Девушка отказывается, но тут Фамулус слышит, что в её комнате кто-то прячется. Он возвращается в лабораторию, находит амулет, оживляет Голема и приказывает ему ворваться в комнату к Мириам. Флориан выбегает на крышу, но Голем настигает его и сбрасывает вниз.

Убийство выводит его из-под контроля человека. Он похищает Мириам и устраивает в доме пожар. Рабби Лёв спасает дочь из огня, но Голема в доме уже нет — он выходит за пределы гетто и встречает детей. Когда он поднимает на руки одну из девочек, та вынимает у него из груди амулет, и Голем каменеет. Рабби Лёв и его помощники возвращают статую в гетто, чтобы больше не оживлять её никогда.

В ролях

Съёмки

По первоначальному замыслу создателей, кладбищенские сцены фильма планировалось снимать на реальном еврейском кладбище, однако еврейская община запретила съёмки. Тогда Пауль Вегенер вместе с художником Гансом Пельцигом и оператором Карлом Фройндом задекорировали настоящий лес под кладбище, что придало сценам сочетание эффекта реальности и искусственности.

При съёмках сцены оживления мёртвого Голема, по словам сорежиссёра фильма Карла Бёзе, «не годились ни технические, ни физические, ни химические приёмы и способы». Расчёт делался на воображение зрителя и на иллюзию. Сцена оживления была реализована простой заменой объекта на живого актёра. Для этого Альберту Штайнрюку, который играл раввина, потребовалось изобразить неловкость при чтении пергамента до такой степени, чтобы казалось, что он вот-вот его уронит. В этот момент, когда взгляд зрителя был устремлён на лицо актёра, объект подменялся живым актёром — Паулем Вегенером. [1]

• ← The gathering how to measure the planet
• The grand biocentric design how life creates reality →