World Cinema as Art — The Creation of Each Nation

Last time, we saw a Hollywood that found its voice and entered its golden age. But the young art of cinema was not nurtured by America alone. In the same era, in the nations of Europe, filmmakers who carried their own histories, thought, and wounds challenged the silver screen with entirely different sensibilities. Germany, which infused distorted shadows with anxiety; the Soviet Union, which found meaning in editing itself; France, which gazed at the subtleties of the human heart. And eventually, cinema was taken up by the hand of the state and became a tool of propaganda as well. In this chapter, we trace neutrally both the brilliance of the creation each nation gave rise to and the shadow of its becoming entangled in politics.

The Land of Distorted Shadows — German Expressionism

Germany, defeated in the First World War, was caught up in social turmoil and the anxiety of its people. What reflected the air of that era in a distinctive form was the cinema of German Expressionism.

The work often cited as its representative is ‘The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari,’ released in 1920. The images of this film did not copy reality as it was. Buildings and roads bend unnaturally, sharp shadows are painted onto the walls, and the world itself appears distorted. This is said to have been an attempt to give visible form to the disordered inner lives of the characters and the unfathomable anxiety covering society. Projecting onto the screen not outer reality but the truth within the heart—this idea, which the word Expressionism indicates, was something inherited by cinema from painting and theater.

This technique, which strongly contrasts light and shadow to conjure an ominous atmosphere, would leave a lasting influence on later cinema. In particular, it is often noted that the genes of Expressionism flowed into later genres that depict the dark world of crime with rich light and shade. A sensibility born from the anxiety of one nation was inherited across borders and across eras.

Joining Gives Rise to Meaning — Soviet Montage Theory

Around the time Germany entrusted its inner life to shadows, in the Soviet Union, which had only just passed through revolution, the essence of cinema was being questioned from an entirely different direction. The idea was that the power of cinema dwells not so much in each individual shot itself, but in how those shots are joined together. This is what is called montage theory.

The work that symbolizes this theory is ‘Battleship Potemkin,’ made in 1925 by Sergei Eisenstein. In particular, the scene in which citizens are driven into a corner by the military—joining many short shots in a tense rhythm—has been told and retold throughout film history as something that carved a powerful shock into the audience’s heart. By arranging scattered fragments, emotions and meanings that none of them contained on their own arise—Eisenstein and others grasped editing as the very core of expression unique to cinema.

An Eye That Gazes at Human Beings — The Cinema of France

In contrast to Germany and the Soviet Union, which sharpened style and theory, the cinema of France nurtured yet another distinctive flavor. In the 1930s in particular, a style is said to have blossomed that depicted the lives and emotions of ordinary people with a moist, tender sentiment. This is the tendency later called poetic realism.

What was reflected there was the ordinary human being—neither hero nor monster. Unrewarded love, the small wishes and frustrations of people living in the corners of society—works arose that scooped up such subtleties of life with shaded images and a restrained narrative voice. Directors such as Jean Renoir are praised for gazing, with a warm yet sober eye, at the bonds and ruptures between people of differing positions. Rather than overwhelming through the force of style, deepening an interest in the human being itself—there lay one personality of French cinema. This tradition of gazing at the human being would be inherited, in altered form, by the new wave of cinema that would rise from France after the war.

When Cinema Is Taken by the State — Wartime Propaganda

While each nation nurtured its own art, from the 1930s into the 1940s cinema also strengthened another face: the face of a tool of propaganda, for the state to guide people’s hearts in a single direction.

The best-known example is ‘Triumph of the Will,’ released in 1935. Directed by Leni Riefenstahl, this work recorded the large-scale Nazi German party rally held the previous year. With grand compositions and camerawork novel for its time, it depicted leader and crowd on an overwhelming scale, and in terms of artistry it is said to have received high praise in some quarters. Yet its purpose lay in impressing upon the people the power of the regime and the prestige of the leader. Excellent technique was used for propaganda that praised a particular regime. After the war, the evaluation of this work turned greatly, and whether it should be discussed as art or condemned as propaganda is still debated today.

Thus, from the 1930s into the wartime years, the cinema of the world nurtured its own art in each land while at the same time becoming deeply entangled with the politics of the times. The brilliance of creation as art, and the shadow of being taken into propaganda. The fact that cinema was a mirror reflecting a nation’s culture and politics includes both of these. Eventually the war ends, and the world turns toward reconstruction. Before a Hollywood that seemed to have regained its prosperity, however, an unexpected formidable rival would appear. It was a small box, coming quietly from within people’s homes.