In the late 1950's drive-ins
across America ran a piece of curious schlock
titled Journey to the
Lost City. A man-eating tiger, a scantily-clad
temple dancer, a sadistic Maharajah and the breathtaking
grandeur of India must have brought in a few teenager-packed
cars (young Mr. Lucas among them?) but the movie
hardly set records at the boxoffice.
The Maharaja
with his
temple dancer. |
|
Fritz Metropolis
Lang, star filmmaker from the silents, must have
seemed completely outgrown of all previous genius
to anyone aware of the director's legacy.
But most moviegoers were unaware that Journey
to the Lost City was
actually two films cut together with approximately
two and a half hours of the story missing from
American drive-ins.
Complete, The
Tiger of Eschnapur and
its conclusion The
Indian Tomb is a fascinating
fable intricately constructed and played out over
four hours. Filmed in German on location in the
province of Rajastan, India, this colorful epic
is now available restored for the first time to
American audiences on DVD.
On one level the entire film is
a comic-book adventure full of exotic dangers
and serial-inspired cliffhangers and on another
level, a mythological tale, well-suited to incorporate
Lang's multitude of themes; a lofty, cerebral
meditation on mankind's questioning relationship
with such a feeble position in the universe.
The architect
& dancer. |
|
A western architect (Paul
Hubschmid) is hired by the Maharajah of Eschnapur
to work on his royal palace. Once there, he falls
in love with a beautiful temple dancer (Debra
Paget) promised to the Maharajah. The young couple
flees into the desert, pursued by the Maharajah's
thugs while a giant tomb is constructed in anticipation
of their return.
Viewers who find the characters
lacking in depth must keep in mind the objectives
set forth with this two-part picture. The Hubschmid
and Paget characters serve as Adam and Eve allegory
and layering their characters with psychology
would have hindered the broader themes Lang clearly
wished to emphasize. For example, part one ends
with the architect and dancer lost in the desert,
hunted and hungry. The architect aims his gun
at the hot sun which is killing them. The scene
visually encapsulates man's anger at an
ambivalent universe. If, however, the hero was
a fully fleshed out character with a specific
personality, the firing of the gun would seem
to reveal something about the character as opposed
to mankind. In this aspect (characters as mythological
icons) the films share a similarity with Star
Wars.
The architect
& dancer
lost in the desert. |
|
Brilliant filmmakers have
come from a variety of backgrounds, but watching
Fritz Lang's Indian
Epic, one can't
help but notice the extraordinary power of the
individual images. Such opulence and grandeur
without overlooking detail (like Von Sternberg)
must be the result of his extensive experience
in silent film. In fact, Lang wrote this story
as a silent forty years earlier with Conrad Casablanca
Veidt as the Maharajah for director Joe May.
Much gratitude should go to Fantoma
for the restoration and release of this DVD set.
Rescued from the butchered version of 1959 and
woody woodpecker cartoon lead-ins, viewers today
can relish the Fritz Lang-created world of exotic
beauty and dark underground worlds, with a hero
compelled to explore them even if the discovery
brings his demise.
(Stephen Jared) |