Lost and Found

This news is about a week old but I really wanted to let it soak in properly. They found the rest of Fritz Lang's Metropolis. Put into simplistic terms like that, it sounds sort of silly but it really is a big deal. Metropolis is not just one of the undisputed masterpieces of silent cinema, it's also an integral part of our film history. Considering it took Lang two years to film, finally released in 1927, it's absolutely astounding to watch. Kino International's 124 minute version is the one with which I am most familiar. It includes a sort of disclaimer at the beginning stating that the missing scenes are considered lost and text, drawings, and production stills will attempt to fill in the gaps. Well, it's funny how things work out and how we've come to relocate the missing footage. I first heard the news from TheDigitalBits, which linked to the German periodical Zeit Online for the full write up. It's a short but very interesting piece. Here's the breakdown: in 1928, Lang sent a print of the film to Adolfo Z. Wilson, an Argentinean film distributor. The film is shown in cinemas then passes into the hands of critic Manuel Peña Rodríguez for his personal collection. Forty-odd years later, Peña Rodríguez sells the reels to Argentina's National Art Fund and then, in 1992, the film winds up at Museo del Cine in Buenos Aires. The new curator, Paula Félix-Didier, heard the rumor about how the museum's copy of Metropolis ran a little longer than everyone else's. Sure enough, with the help of three film experts, Fritz Lang's complete vision of Metropolis was "rediscovered" in Argentina. Kino, who has the rights to the film, has since confirmed that they will include the missing scenes in their DVD and Blu-ray Disc releases of the film next year.

This is, of course, not the first time someone has stumbled across a "lost" film. Take the case of John Ford's My Darling Clementine (1946). Ford's film was released to the public with a running time of about 97 minutes. In the mid-1990s, UCLA film students noticed that the print of the film donated to the school by Fox ran about ten minutes longer. Lo and behold, Fox had sent the school Ford's earlier cut, which was previewed, re-edited, and then released as the 97-minute theatrical version. Both versions are available on the most recent DVD, which makes for an interesting comparison study. A similar comparison is the theatrical version versus the restored version of Baby Face (1933). With public interest group breathing down Hollywood's neck, the Production Code (a.k.a. the Hays Code; the Code; the Breen Office) was put into place to regulate (read "censor") the content of American films. The restored version of Baby Face is a much darker, seedier vision of ambition and exploitation. The theatrical version softens the material and, in my opinion, dulls the overall impact. One of the more famous film restorations was that of Orson Welles' triumphant Touch of Evil (1958). Welles, a brilliant filmmaker to a fault, wrote a now legendary 58-page memo to RKO after viewing the studio's re-edited version of the film. The film remained as the studio cut it until Universal found an early post-memo, pre-release version of the film in 1976 used with test audiences. Finally, a faithful restoration was mounted in 1998, attempting to achieve Welles' original vision. On a personal note, Touch of Evil (like Chinatown [1974], Halloween [1978], and The Red Shoes [1948]) is one of those movies that remind me why I love film so much. It's such a textually dense work that I get sort of intoxicated by it. With that said, I know I'll be first in line to get the new 50th Anniversary Edition in October; it'll include all three versions of the film (!).

I suppose I'm like many fans of silent film and general film history because there are several films I'd love to see in their original versions. Erich von Stroheim's original 9-hour version of Greed would be amazing (the 4-hour version is pretty spectacular by itself). I really wonder what Orson Welles' first cut of The Magnificent Ambersons (1942) looked like. That is to say, before RKO re-cut and destroying any remaining footage. Legend has it a rough print is hiding somewhere in Brazil where Welles went to decompress after shooting.

You know, two of my favorite directors are Dario Argento and John Waters. I've seen just about every movie they've ever made with the exception of a few. Argento finished his "animal trilogy" (beginning with The Bird with the Crystal Plumage [1970] followed by Cat ‘O Nine Tails [1971]) with Four Flies on Grey Velvet (1971). After three back-to-back giallos, Argento made The Five Days of Milan (1973), a historical drama about the Italian revolution. Neither film is available in the States. I understand that Paramount owns the video rights to Four Flies. I have my doubts that they'll release it in any acceptable form considering the hack jobs they do on most of the genre DVDs like Rosemary’s Baby (1968) and that sad excuse of a Friday the 13th boxed set. As for Waters, I'd love to see Hag in a Black Leather Jacket (1964), Roman Candles (1966), and Eat Your Makeup (1968) available to the public. Waters, love him or hate him, hasn't lost his satirical edge. I'm looking forward to his holiday children's movie Fruitcake. Think I’m kidding? Go here.

I've gotten terribly off track but I think my point is there. Metropolis as Lang intended it was considered "lost forever" for eight decades until it was happened across, more or less, by accident. What really saddens me is the utter disregard for history and preservation the general public has for their film heritage. Just because it's in black-and-white or silent doesn't make it boring or a bad movie. Odds are it's better than 90% of the drivel that the studios dump on us today. I know it would be an expensive endeavor but I'd love for someone to start digging through the vaults and archives to see what other treasures are hiding. Maybe that print of The Magnificent Ambersons is just chilling in Brazil, waiting for someone to trip over it. Until then, I'll (im)patiently wait for the fully restored version of Metropolis to street. I'm sure that after watching it my head will explode into candy.