It was in 1927 that an unforgettable image gazed impassively on the world for the first time.
It had a name: machinenmensch. Machine-human. And it formed part of one of the most beautifully crafted films of all time, a creation with a plot to make writers emerald with envy and screenplay which takes ones breath away even today.
Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, without dialogue and filmed in black and white, is simply a must-see.
It tells the story of a society gone wrong: where the thinkers live high up in a city in luxury and the workers languish in desperate and hopeless conditions beneath the surface.
At its heart is a beautiful woman who plans to emancipate the workers using a catacomb-city deep underground. She is, at last, the link the city has needed: uniting the thinkers (the city’s mind) with those who carry out their wishes (the limbs and body). She is that long-awaited heart.
But for every heroine there must be a villain: a mad scientist likens his robotic creation to her. Maria’s ghastly twin brings avarice, death and destruction wherever it goes. Lang’s vision – you can watch it here – chills one to the bone with an inhuman stare. The doppelgänger, it seems , is the very opposite of the hope Maria represents. It is despair.
We soar with the highs, we sink with the lows of this peerless film. Its visual language has been revered and mimicked ever since. Not least in another classic much closer to our time: Star Wars.
The similarities between the machinenmensch and C-3PO, the highly strung gold android who escorts a last desperate message to the Rebels, are only skin deep. C-3PO is a highly strung protocol droid, designed to serve humans, and his wittering monologue is at best companionable, at worst irritating.
But this obvious tribute to Lang’s Metropolis, while visually arresting, does not hold centre stage.
I am still left wondering how a small wheeled rustbucket who can communicate only in whistles stole the show so completely.
Perhaps precisely it was because it was a small wheeled rustbucket. R2D2 had a definite personality. The little droid was anything but elegant and pretty; and so made the perfect envoy to pass under Darth Vader’s radar. Who is going to check a robot just inches from collapse for messages from beautiful but distressed rebel princesses?
Sometimes, the shabbier option has its uses.
Last Saturday I arrived at the port by my bed to collect my iPhone.
I have had one for two years, long before anyone else: I blogged on it when I went away on holiday, peering at the little screen; I have beloved apps on it from a handy spirit level to a tube train planner. When I got lost in London I would fish it out and it would find my way home for me. It was my cookbook, my party planner, my secretary.
And it carried a message this particular morning, informing me politely that it was no longer in a position to make calls.
When the iPhone and my laptop liaised, it became clear it was no longer in a position to do anything any more. We sent it to our tame Mac mechanics. They declared it an ex iPhone. It had shuffled off this mortal coil.
I was bereft. No-one could contact me: I couldn’t send cosy texts to mates at unearthly hours. It was grim.
I have a laptop. And now I have an iPad. Blowing half my monthly budget on an iPhone was not an option, and Maddie’s school fees dictate a contract is not a wise move.
I did nothing. I simply chose friends and bemoaned my fate at them. Days passed and I could not bring myself to contemplate leaving the Apple fold. I had been de-skilled by a very big shiny corporation indeed.
As I wailed one morning at school, the quietest but cleverest member of our staff at school said something. This is an unusal event. He usually spends his time listening. But from the little room adjacent to the one in which I was regaling three friends with The Tale Of The Defunct Logic Board, a muffled voice announced:”You want to get yourself an android phone.”
He explained that Android phones might not be pretty or slick, but they sure get the job done. For just over £100 I could have the same features: and I would be paying very little towards my droid’s upkeep.
Today I went out and found a little droid of my own. And immediately, I began to feel two distinct emotions. Firstly, I felt protective to this slightly eccentric contraption, which dared to walk its own path in this world of high-spec, high-res communication devices.
But there was something else there too: I was a rebel. I was bucking the trend and stepping out of the polished lair of the Apple. Time to strap the little droid to the X Wing and fire a few laser guns at the big guys.
After all, droids have been the rebels shaping empires for a while now: Lang’s machinenmensch might have been the wrong way to go about it, but R2’s unique shabby chic endeared him to our hearts.
It’s me and the droid against the establishment.
Kate Shrewsday 
I did not know they had the movie making ability to do these things in 1927. So far of its time. What is even more striking is the work of Edgar Rice Burroughs. I read all 10 of his John Carter of Mars books and there is no way he could have predicted the tech in those stories based on what was known in his time, yet he did it. Truly astonishing as this film is a harbinger.
It is, Carl, and it talks in those metaphors as well. Worth a watch from beginning to end 🙂
May the force be with you, Kate. 😀
I’ve never seen this 1927 masterpiece and shall do what I can to rectify that situaion in short order. Sounds positively brilliant . . . to both my heart and my head.
🙂 Enjoy the viewing, Nancy. There was a 2001 DVD release which has the added advantage of Gottfried Huppertz’s original score, which is wonderful.
And I envy you a smart phone of any kind. Our middle son, Adam is even a high muckety-muck with U.S> Cellular at corporate heqtrs in Chicago, and he has yet to supply me with one. He keeps saying “next time you come here, or I get down there, I’ll get you set up.” It has been almost 2 years now, and my phone (at least it ha a qwerty keyboard, so I can text, albeit only with one hand, so it’s slow and frustrating). Hubs doesn’t even have that and he could care less. He doesn’t want to text – ha no interest in apps, etc. So – it will be interesting to see what Adam sets us each up with – whenever that happens. Our phones arae already three years old! (Horrors! 😀 )
Paula,this tiny droid even accesses WordPress and I can BLOG on it!!! I can read replies and answer them on the hoof! For £130! Your son simply HAS to get one packed in a box and sent to you!
On the slightly less enthusiastic side, the alarm went off at full volume this morning and there seemed to be NO way of turning it off. We were all shouting at it and taking turns to press buttons. We even deleted the original alarm instruction. When we took the battery out it stopped, all right 😀
As Astro the Jetsom’s dog would say, “Ruh-Roh!” My husband would GO INSANE! Loue noises hurt his ears. I would have to retreat to a closet somewhere and try to figure it out. Instruction books come in handy sometimes. . .like when reformatting a camera disc! 😀
I’ve been poring over the manual Paula….no joy yet…ho hum….
My first step was to Google ‘android phones’ ! Hope you’re happy with it. Does it communicate ok with your other Mac equipment?
Ahem….Macs don’t talk to lesser droids, Earlybird…there is a little synching programme but I haven’t braved downloading it onto my very own white princess, my white Macbook…
Ahh. I thought maybe there might be a little hitch between Royalty and commoners!
😀
I’ve avoided even thinking about cellphones, mine has a green button I push when it makes a noise; that’s enough for me.
Probably best, Cindy 😀 Why complicate things? (This from a techno-addict)
I’m with Cindy!
We paid $30 for a phone and $100 for 400 pre-paid minutes that won’t expire for a year. After 6 months, we’d used about 10% of the minutes.
I’m not a chatty Cathy. 😉
Nor am I! I just love the written word…..I text and blog and surf and network and snap and order and write and memo and remember…
To me, a cellphone is a phone, is a phone, is a phone… I do look at people forever fiddling with their ‘smart’ phones and it’s enough for me to be addicted to my latop!
1927 and a movie like that – it is unbelievable – the guy must have been a genius!
He must have been, mustn’t he?
With youngish kids there are always moments of downtime: waiting for the cricket to finish, school to come out, and so on. I’m afraid I got addicted to my phone during those little times: suddenly I could write a bit, or play something, or catch up with friends or even order something that needed ordering. It’s cyber multi tasking gone mad!
Did you hold a funeral for your phone (and your sanity?) 🙂
I did not, but I might take its short shelf life up with Apple 🙂 The week in which I did not have a phone was very sane indeed, Tilly. But my part of the world got a bit cross because I was not answering it. Now I’m back in the fast lane and sanity is a distant memory once more.
From the death of the iPhone to the birth of your droid, you give much to ponder, and here I sit, pretty smug, because I actually figured out, all by my lonesome, how to blog! I must get with it and be a techno-granny in the the near future.
How do you do it? You weave your stories so well, Kate, and have me waiting with baited breath for the next paragraph, then the next, then the next post and you tell us about the most amazing events and now this film, Metropolis. I clicked your link and then, of course, because I am a curious busy-body, I kept clicking, mesmorized by this 1927 marvel.
Ah, Penny, I’ve missed you! Thanks so much – and so glad you enjoyed the Metropolis stuff. Nice to be able to return the favour after you keep my reading list so healthy 🙂
Glad you had a lovely time with Kezzie. What a girl.
I watched the clip and the beginning of the film on Netflix.
The clip reminded me of Dr. Frankenstein’s lab. The beginning of the film reminded me of worker bees/ants . . . marching without hope.
I’ll watch more when I have the time. Thanks, Kate.
Enjoy 🙂
(This is from Trudy – she’s in the pub!)
it’s a wonderful thing having friends to moan about when your flash phone isn’t working. Having a unique phone is highly necessary for a person with exceptional IT skills. Have a fantastic weekend, Trudy and all the resource staff. P.S will you still want to know us when you have an android phone?
Live from the pub! Blurry Hell! Trudy, I have been working with the Rebel Alliance for four years now: the little droid has been purchased, and he’ll fit right in. Demo on Monday week….thank our wise colleague for me. Everyone have a great weekend xxxxx
“It tells the story of a society gone wrong: where the thinkers live high up in a city in luxury and the workers languish in desperate and hopeless conditions beneath the surface.” not much has changed since 1927 🙂
I find that the problem withany of this technology is that to get the most out of it you have to wade through screeds of on-line documentation – my iPhone only uses a smidgen of its brain in my hands – are you one of those technophiles who reads the manual, Kate?
Only if I hit a glitsch, BB. I learn most stuff by trial and error but when the alarm goes off at 6am and I am unable to turn it off, then I turn to the manual: for scanning, not poring 😀
Excellent! And a touching paean to your beloved bit of technology. May the force be with you and your new Droid!
Thank you, Liz. My next move is to get the hairstyle and the white dress.
Okay! That’s how it’s done. I’ve been fighting with myself over the same issue. Thanks for pointing out my direction through, yet another enlightening post.
You’re more than welcome, Liz 🙂 Hope you’re keeping well…
Hi Kate, I can’t find your dad. Please check that you have given his correct address. 😦
Will do adeeyoyo