I watched the recent (2019) release in the Eureka Masters of Cinema series, "Waxworks" (1924) (originally titled "Wachsfigurenkabinett"), directed by Paul Leni, with William Dieterle, Olga Belajeff, Emil Jannings, Conrad Veidt, Werner Krauss, Georg John, Ernst Legal, and John Gottowt. An original German release print no longer exists, so this was put together from several other prints, especially the British release, the intertitles of which were the basis for the reconstructed English titles here. Unfortunately, the original was probably at least 20-25 minutes longer, but only the final part of the three part story is truncated in any major way. What's unfortunate about that, however, is the fact that the final segment is by far the most creative and interesting.
The restoration is spectacular, with gorgeous tinting and very sharp and clear photography of magnificent expressionistic sets definitely derivative and showily imitative of "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" (1920). The plot begins in a carnival where a waxwork display needs stories to tell about the characters represented, the Caliph of Bagdad, Harun al Raschid (Emil Jannings), Ivan the Terrible, Czar (Conrad Veidt), and Spring-Heeled Jack, aka Jack the Ripper (Werner Krauss). William Dieterle plays the writer/poet hired to come up with stories which can be told about the characters in wax to glorify them with horror enough to open the eyes of the patron viewers. Dieterle also plays a baker to the Caliph, a Russian Prince during the Ivan the Terrible segment, and the dreamer of the dream during the Ripper segment. During all these segments Olga Belajeff is the female foil.
The show is so very derivative of "The Cabinet of Caligari" as to be slightly dull to those who might have seen its inspiring film. The first segment is too long and too slow. The second is slow, too, though Veidt is without question captivating with his magnetic eyes. The last segment is unbelievably imaginative for 1923/4, but, as mentioned, is now only surviving in a truncated version. Its use of multiple exposure is dream-like as it represents exactly that, a dream. The photography overall is the driving force for watching the film. Beautifully done by cinematographer Helmar Lerski, it perfectly imitates "Caligari", and even more so captures the bizarre rapture of the sets.
Though perfectly acted, aptly directed, photographed to perfection, the overall complex of the film is still dull. It's not stultifying in any sense, but, were it not considered in the framework of 1924 and silent film, this would only be a 5/6 out of 10. As it is, I'd rate it 8 stars out of 10. Jannings is always so good in his films, but here he just gets to be a fat Caliph who acts the fat Caliph with intents that are obvious, movements that are clichéd, and a story that's told as if to children, but heard before by the adults accompanying them. Veidt is marvelous, but we wonder what the point of the story is. The last story - well, it's told quickly because it's truncated. Who knows? It's still the best.
The restoration is spectacular, with gorgeous tinting and very sharp and clear photography of magnificent expressionistic sets definitely derivative and showily imitative of "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" (1920). The plot begins in a carnival where a waxwork display needs stories to tell about the characters represented, the Caliph of Bagdad, Harun al Raschid (Emil Jannings), Ivan the Terrible, Czar (Conrad Veidt), and Spring-Heeled Jack, aka Jack the Ripper (Werner Krauss). William Dieterle plays the writer/poet hired to come up with stories which can be told about the characters in wax to glorify them with horror enough to open the eyes of the patron viewers. Dieterle also plays a baker to the Caliph, a Russian Prince during the Ivan the Terrible segment, and the dreamer of the dream during the Ripper segment. During all these segments Olga Belajeff is the female foil.
The show is so very derivative of "The Cabinet of Caligari" as to be slightly dull to those who might have seen its inspiring film. The first segment is too long and too slow. The second is slow, too, though Veidt is without question captivating with his magnetic eyes. The last segment is unbelievably imaginative for 1923/4, but, as mentioned, is now only surviving in a truncated version. Its use of multiple exposure is dream-like as it represents exactly that, a dream. The photography overall is the driving force for watching the film. Beautifully done by cinematographer Helmar Lerski, it perfectly imitates "Caligari", and even more so captures the bizarre rapture of the sets.
Though perfectly acted, aptly directed, photographed to perfection, the overall complex of the film is still dull. It's not stultifying in any sense, but, were it not considered in the framework of 1924 and silent film, this would only be a 5/6 out of 10. As it is, I'd rate it 8 stars out of 10. Jannings is always so good in his films, but here he just gets to be a fat Caliph who acts the fat Caliph with intents that are obvious, movements that are clichéd, and a story that's told as if to children, but heard before by the adults accompanying them. Veidt is marvelous, but we wonder what the point of the story is. The last story - well, it's told quickly because it's truncated. Who knows? It's still the best.