M
One of the basics of screenwriting is to establish the hero's world
in your story and then throw off that world's equilibrium. Dorothy
loses her dog, Luke loses his droids, and Dumbo's born with a birth
defect. In Fritz Lang's
M, a little German town has a serial killer on the loose. Made in 1931,
M
established many conventions that would become staples in the
Psychological Thriller genre. However, unlike most of the pioneering
films of its time, M's value isn't only in its historical significance
because it's still more terrifying than most serial killer movies put
out today.
I have to applaud Lang for realizing so early that horror happens in
the imagination. That realization has unfortunately not carried over
into many of today's psychological thrillers. Silence of the Lambs is one of the few exceptions. Jonathan Demme (dir. of Lambs)
uses the darkest recesses of our minds to fill in what Hannibal Lector
is capable of instead of showing it on screen. When Ridley Scott came
out with Hannibal, all of that horror got a big alka-seltzer
tablet dropped into it precisely because Scott chose to show Hannibal
performing his heinous deeds.
Lang does with the Psychological Thriller genre what John Sayles did with the Western genre in Matewan.
Sayles took the classic western and asked, "What if I switch out the
gunslinging hero in a white hat with a pacifist?" The result is a
totally original story that sets up genre expectations and then smashes
them scene after scene. I expect a genre story, but wind up examining
the Story's world as something totally new and subsequently I start
seeing the world around me with fresh eyes. Fritz Lang does the same
thing with M when he takes out the Gumshoe (typical hero in
this genre) who is chasing down the killer and replaces him with a
community on the brink of madness with fear for their children.
Considering the film was made in 1931, some may argue that Lang did
more to establish the genre than break from it, but the fact remains
that the conventions of genre are broken by M.
It's far more interesting to me to see what having a serial killer
on the loose does to disintegrate the fabric of a community, than to
watch what a serial killer does to the convictions of a lone detective.
M delivers on a nail biting level for two hours, then ends in
such a way that won't let the audience think our little Bavarian town
is back to normal. The Killer is not just a bad guy in a black hat.
In fact, Lang turns his finger from the Killer to the town. One of the
realities that Lang explores (a reality briefly eluded to in Lambs)
is that serial killers aren't born, they are made. They are made when
a society refuses to look at and act on the abuse of children. In some
ways, Lang's killer is the Pied Piper coming to finally collect on
generations of a town in denial. Denial of all the evils that were
wrought behind closed doors. In the final scene, a court sentences the
Killer. In the courtroom sits a row of mothers whose children were
victims. Their sobs are not comforted by the guilty verdict. One of
the mothers cries out, "We must protect the children!"
I was shocked once when I read that well over 60% of reported child
sexual abuse cases in this country happen in the home at the hands of a
father or step-father. The proverbial "dirty old man" that I have
always imagined as the main perpetrator of these crimes accounts for
between 2% - 5% of all reported cases. In my own experience I have
spoken with many adults who were victims of abuse as children. In
almost every conversation I've heard the same thing: What hurt more
than the abuse itself was when it was glossed over or outright ignored
by the adults who were in a place to protect the victim.
I don't believe that the valiant detective was ever meant to carry
the responsibility of protecting everybody, like Superman being
swooping in at the last possible minute to save a child stepping in
front of a car. I believe our society is has grown accustomed to
turning the other way, to the idea of a hero like a gun-strapping
sheriff or detective to step in and do what must be done when a
"monster" is on the loose. But it falls on our shoulders to act when a
future "monster" is being created in the house next door.
I am amazed at how Fritz Lang conveyed on film this social disease
of believing in "the monster" that magically appears and the subsequent
hero who is responsible for killing it. I am even more amazed at what
a prophet he was for his own people to produce this film in Germany
just before the rise of Hitler, who determined the Jews to be monsters.
Stories usually start by setting up a world then throwing off that
world's equilibrium. I know I always tend to revert to that formula in
my world view. "Oh, once upon a time there was a beautiful town, then
one day a monster started killing people." The truth is that long
before "Once upon a time..." there was the story of a child who was
suffering and was ignored. Those stories are not told very often. I
think it's to our own detriment that they go untold.
(originally posted on my godinruins.com blog 8/18/05)