100 Movies Every Catholic Should See #32: Faust (1926)
Directed by F. W. Murnau. Starring Gosta Ekman, Emil Jannings, Camilla Horn. Based on the play by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.
German Expressionism, the unofficial art movement through the 1920s and 30s that became one of the most influential cinematic forms, blended silent-movie pantomime and visual surrealism to portray the inner life of humanity, a duality of light and shadow, good and evil. While many German directors found popularity and success in this era using this dreamlike formalism, F.W. Murnau’s Faust best represents popular German filmmaking of this era, not only because of the striking black-and-white cinematography filled with spectacular silent-era effects, but for the legendary story of temptation and redemption that characterized the era’s fascination with good vs evil.
Taking inspiration from Christopher Marlowe’s 17th century Doctor Faustus, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s 19th century Faust, a Tragedy, and its opera adaptation by Charles Gounad, Murnau honors the history of the source material while at the same time creating his own iconic heaven vs hell imagery that cements his interpretation as timeless. The contrast of the angelic and demonic has the appearance of traditional Christian art depicting spiritual warfare, and the imagery influenced many future films revolving around this theme (including the famous “Night on Bald Mountain” sequence from Fantasia). When we think of angels and demons, we think of this film’s white warrior angel and dark horned demon that frame the story, where Murnau stylistically shows the reality of spiritual warfare and the battle for our souls. Murnau explored the duality of man in many of his other successful expressionist films, including The Last Laugh, Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, and most famously Nosferatu, the original screen interpretation of Dracula. But it was with Faust that his fascination with this duality transcended mere human stories of good and evil and entered the realm of the spiritual, creating never before seen sights on the screen with ingenious practical effects, including the towering demon Mephisto hovering over the city, horsemen of the apocalypse flying through the air, and giant rings of fire surrounding the protagonist.
While Murnau was an effects pioneer, he did not let the obsession with the visuals overshadow the human drama that unfolds in the story, and on a narrative level the film strikes a perfect balance between epic and intimate. It’s a supernatural fantasy on a grand scale, but a simple love story on a smaller scale. Overlapping these human and supernatural pieces, the film integrates the fantasy and romance but also manages to add comedy, horror and melodrama, culminating in a film that maintains a singular vision while balancing this disparate elements.
In a departure from most of the source material, the angel and demon in the frame tale strike a wager over who will take the soul of man, and that if the devil can corrupt man, he will take dominion over all the earth. In a sort of inverse of the biblical Job story, the bet centers around the alchemist Faust, who longs to cure his village of the plague and prays continuously to God for intervention. But rather than simply falling into discouragement, he rejects Christianity altogether, casting away his bible and making a pact with the devil to stop the plague. Here provides the demon Mephisto with the opportunity to prove he can corrupt humanity by preying on one man’s good intentions, paving the road to hell. When the villagers reject Faust’s assistance after suspecting his diabolical means, he abandons his quest to serve humanity and instead makes a further deal with Mephisto to regain his youth and live a life of decadence. The price, of course, is his own soul, and once he tastes the pleasure of youth, he slides further into the pact, giving himself completely over to Mephisto in order to remain young forever.
Swedish actor Gosta Eckman plays both the old and young versions of Faust, and imbues the character with a sense of the tragic, first as the decrepit alchemist who feels his efforts to serve mankind are all for naught, then as the youthful version who becomes completely disillusioned with humanity and engages in hedonism with reckless abandon. Silent-era film acting may appear over-the-top to modern audiences, but cinema at the time was still highly influenced by a theater tradition of performance art, and Eckman’s portrayal of Faust is an endlessly involving screen presence, one where you weep at his foolishness but remain invested in his character, hoping for his redemption arc. Contrasting the tragic performance of Eckman is Emil Jannings as the demon Mephisto, whose snarling face and maniacal laugh put his performance strictly in the realm of comic pantomime. This contrast works to great effect, and Jannings’ presence gives some much needed levity to the proceedings, finding comedy amidst the tragedy, especially when Mephisto himself attempts to win the heart of a woman. Yet even with the comedy, Jannings constantly reminds you that Faust has surrounded himself with evil. His temptations toward Faust can be very frightening, with Mephisto crawling behind Faust’s shoulder and whispering into his ear, another expression of traditional Christian iconography Murnau recreates with the actors.
The movie is not all darkness. When Faust begins to miss his old life and longs for home, he is taken there and falls in love with the pure and innocent Gretchen, luminously played by Camilla Horn. Her virtue attracts Faust in a way he has not been tempted by with Mephisto’s promises, but he still tries to woo her using Mephisto’s tricks. Despite the inevitable tragedy that befalls the situation, Gretchen remains a symbol of light and is the one person who provides Faust with a chance for repentance and redemption. While other versions of the story expand Faust’s escapades beyond the love story, Murnau wisely focuses the protagonist arc around his love for Gretchen, emphasizing the romance and character growth in the face of love.
Part of the tragedy of Faust lies in his inability to see suffering as redemptive, looking at the victims of the plague and rather than seeing the divine present in them, he sees only an absence of good due to suffering. St. John Vianney is quoted as saying that “nothing afflicts the heart of Jesus so much as to see all His sufferings of no avail to so many.” Few films show this reality the way Faust does. Faust is not the only character to lose faith in the presence of suffering. The villagers where Gretchen lives abandon their Christian charity at the sight of a woman defrocked. Rather than seeing Christ in Gretchen, they see only the evil and suffering, and shun her as the Pharisees did Mary Magdalene. It is only Gretchen who keeps her heart pure in the face of suffering, and keeps hope alive despite hardship. Embracing her love for Faust, she counters all the previous characters’ refusal to acknowledge goodness in sinful humanity, and despite the tragic conclusion, ends the film on a triumphant note.
“Love conquers death” might sound like an overly predictable sentiment for a movie’s central theme, but this truth is used repeatedly in storytelling because it resonates with all of humanity. If a single act of self-sacrifice can redeem a person from a lifetime of misrule, then Christ’s promise of salvation is true for all, not just the ones who remained virtuous throughout their lives. Faust as a character goes on a turbulent journey of good intentions pursued with unjustified means, to hedonistic despair, to the discovery of love and the opportunity for redemption. This universal theme, paired with gorgeous visuals and memorable performances from the entire cast, places Murnau’s influential masterpiece as one of the crowning achievements of the silent era, and one of the most memorable finales that triumphantly declares the power of sacrificial love.
Well done interaction with one of the scariest films I know.