The Golem may not be quite as well known as that other silent creature feature of its era – F.W. Murnau's extraordinary Nosferatu – but is nevertheless a fascinating work of expressionist cinema from German film-maker Paul Wegener. Based on Gustave Meyrick's 1915 novel, the film is moodily lit and pictorially powerful, providing cinema with an early example of one of its most perennially popular motifs: the 'rampaging-monster-on-the-loose'. Even a film as celebrated as King Kong owes much to Wegener's vision in terms of plot and structure.
The story is set in medieval Prague. Rabbi Loew (Albert Steinrück) reads in the stars that disastrous events are on the horizon and urges his assistant Famulus (Ernest Deutsch) to gather the Jewish elders to tell them the bad news. The very next day, a decree is issued by the Holy Roman Emperor Luhois (Otto Gebühr), stating that every Jew must leave the city by the end of the month, or else face the ultimate penalty. Desperate to protect his people, Loew creates a clay giant called The Golem, and invokes the malicious spirit of Astaroth to bring the creature to life. Animated by this sorcery, the Golem (Paul Wegener) becomes Loew's hulking ally helping him to protect the Jewish community. When Emperor Luhois sees the Golem – and witnesses its incredible strength first-hand when it prevents his palace from collapsing – he decides to reverse his decree and let the Jews stay. Later, however, Loew learns that Astaroth's sinister influence still lurks within the Golem and this proves only too true when the creature goes on a destructive rampage through the city.
Wegener's film is perhaps most impressive for its visual design, with Hans Poelzig's sets evocatively replicating the Jewish ghetto of medieval Prague. The whole film is beautifully shot around these sets – the maze of alleys, crooked towers and dingy rooms create a perfect atmosphere. The Golem itself is a brilliantly designed creature with a distinctive Eskimo-like hair cut and physically imposing appearance. It may not be as iconic as Nosferatu, but the image of the creature is still one that stays with the viewer long after the film is over. Inevitably, the film's primitive technical 'look' will affect how much of an audience exists for it any more. If you have no interest in silent cinema or expressionism, there will be little to entice you to see The Golem. For true movie buffs, though, this is a real treat. There's so much here that has gone on to influence and inspire future film-making generations – watching the film, you are actually witnessing the birth of ideas and techniques that have survived and evolved over ninety two years and counting. A humbling experience indeed for any film fan.
The story is set in medieval Prague. Rabbi Loew (Albert Steinrück) reads in the stars that disastrous events are on the horizon and urges his assistant Famulus (Ernest Deutsch) to gather the Jewish elders to tell them the bad news. The very next day, a decree is issued by the Holy Roman Emperor Luhois (Otto Gebühr), stating that every Jew must leave the city by the end of the month, or else face the ultimate penalty. Desperate to protect his people, Loew creates a clay giant called The Golem, and invokes the malicious spirit of Astaroth to bring the creature to life. Animated by this sorcery, the Golem (Paul Wegener) becomes Loew's hulking ally helping him to protect the Jewish community. When Emperor Luhois sees the Golem – and witnesses its incredible strength first-hand when it prevents his palace from collapsing – he decides to reverse his decree and let the Jews stay. Later, however, Loew learns that Astaroth's sinister influence still lurks within the Golem and this proves only too true when the creature goes on a destructive rampage through the city.
Wegener's film is perhaps most impressive for its visual design, with Hans Poelzig's sets evocatively replicating the Jewish ghetto of medieval Prague. The whole film is beautifully shot around these sets – the maze of alleys, crooked towers and dingy rooms create a perfect atmosphere. The Golem itself is a brilliantly designed creature with a distinctive Eskimo-like hair cut and physically imposing appearance. It may not be as iconic as Nosferatu, but the image of the creature is still one that stays with the viewer long after the film is over. Inevitably, the film's primitive technical 'look' will affect how much of an audience exists for it any more. If you have no interest in silent cinema or expressionism, there will be little to entice you to see The Golem. For true movie buffs, though, this is a real treat. There's so much here that has gone on to influence and inspire future film-making generations – watching the film, you are actually witnessing the birth of ideas and techniques that have survived and evolved over ninety two years and counting. A humbling experience indeed for any film fan.