ALRAUNE
Color Tinted, 1927, 136 mins.
Directed by Henrik Galeen
Starring Brigitte Helm, Paul Wegener, Iván Petrovich
THE STUDENT OF PRAGUE
Color Tinted, 1926, 133 mins. 53 secs.
Directed by Henrik Galeen
Starring
Conrad Veidt, Werner Krauss, Elizza La Porta, Agnes Esterhazy
Deaf Crocodile (Blu-ray) (US RA HD)
Venturing further
back than ever before in its explorations of world genre cinema, Deaf Crocodile delivered two vital films of early German
horror-tinged fantastic cinema long overdue for worthwhile restorations. Both Alraune (shown in some English territories as A Woman of Destiny or Unholy Love) and the previous year's The Student of Prague were directed b y Henrik Galeen, an enigmatic Austrian filmmaker whose key contributions include writing the first screen version of The Golem in 1915, its legendary 1920 remake, Nosferatu, and Waxworks. Both of them are still very wild rides offering studies in psychological mania that pack quite a punch, and the new restorations courtesy of the Filmmuseum München are a welcome sight indeed.
Derived from pagan legends about creatures spawned from the reputedly potent mandrake root, Alraune (whose title means "mandrake") begins with a very determined genetics researcher, Professor Jakob ten Briken (Wegener, director of The Golem), who really, really wants to find out when a disreputable woman gets impregnated by a
mandrake grown from the sexual emissions of a hanged convict. He sends his nephew and assistant, Franz (Petrovich),
to hang around a brothel and find a suitable test case, which results in the birth of the rapidly-growing Alraune (Metropolis' Helm) who indeed has a dark and destructive side as she speeds to maturity. Stuck in a convent, she devises ways to hook up with men and ends up at a circus while the Professor and Franz try to trace her steps and control the path of her life after this dangerous experiment.
A genre-twisting wonder, Alraune relies almost entirely on the powerful presence of Helm who gives off an intense carnal charge in her performance. A basic synopsis might lead you to think this is a morality play about the evil inherent within a woman, but in fact it turns out to be something very different from expected with a more subversive and nuanced take at the end that feels much more satisfying. The perversity of the concept doesn't get glossed over here either, with the film implying that the traversing between high and low class environments relies on neither nature nor nurture but something more intangible within each person. The restoration here looks excellent and presents the longest possible version of the film, coming in at a whopping 133 minutes with some stills and text cards filling in some
brief passages that have been lost for ages. The score by Sabrina Zimmermann and Mark Pogolski is effective and emotional where it counts, sounding great here with a DTS-HD MA 5.1 mix, and optional English subtitles are presented for the
original German intertitles.
Far more frequently mentioned in reference books but previously impossible to see in a watchable version, The Student of Prague is the second of three versions of the Faustian tale previously shot in 1913 (produced by and starring Wegener) and followed by a sound version with Anton Walbrook in 1935. This 1926 version is easily the finest and most important with Conrad Veidt, one of the silent era's greatest actors, excelling here as the titular student, Balduin. During an outdoor field trip with some students, he's repeatedly approached by shady troubadour Scapinelli (Krauss) who wants to strike a deal to lend him some money with lyrics like "Why don't you let Satan fill up your empty sack?" After becoming smitten with the much wealthier Margit (Esterhazy) and being invited to her home, Balduin strikes a deal to receive a hefty sum of money in exchange for his reflection. Of course, the bargain goes south quickly as his liberated reflection turns to criminal mischief that upends Balduin's life and drives him to increasing desperation.
Complete with swordplay action and dark humor, The Student of Prague is a highly entertaining supernatural morality tale with an oft-noted echo of Edgar Allan Poe's "William Wilson" in the second half thanks to the tormenting
doppelganger. Apart from looking way too mature to be a plausible naive student, Veidt is ideally cast here and really shines once his hysteria kicks in (including a great nocturnal showdown with lots of swirling leaves). It's also fascinating how much the film relies on the implication of sound, with elements like sheet music and musical performers frequently figuring in the action and allowing the musical accompanist to run wild in the process. Occasionally released on public domain video in horribly cut and blurry condition, the film really shines here with its most complete
presentation ever and a fine score by Stephen Horne suiting the action well.
Each film is given its own disc and has a dedicated audio commentary by Jan-Christopher Horak, former director of the UCLA Film & TV Archive and the Filmmuseum München, who does an excellent job of balancing historical tidbits about the cast, crew, and various versions with readings of the use of visual language and thematic elements to deliver unique interpretations of the familiar stories. A two-part videoconferenced interview with Stefan Drössler of the Filmmuseum München and Deaf Crocodile's Dennis Bartok (40m12s and 56m23s) is an enjoyable chat covering the museum's founding, its collections including rarities from Orson Welles and Soviet 3-D artifacts, the preservation of Galeen's films, and the importance of these films in the silent German canon. Also included is a 15m40s fragment from 1924's Dangerous Clues (Auf Gefahrlichen Spuren), an early thriller written by Galeen in which he also appears as an actor in this lighthearted crime thriller. The set was also released in a limited edition (which sold out in record time) featuring a slipcase by Dave McKean and a substantial illustrated book with an essay by Galeen ("What a Pity That We Should Die at 50") about the making of The Student of Prague, an essay by Felix Panten ("Strolling Around a Film") about being on the set of Alraune, a new study by Stefan Drössler about the director's career, an essay by Michael Farin ("Hanns Heinz Ewers: The Vampire in a Völkisch Prostitute's Bed") about the noted actor and writer behind Alraune, an essay by Ewers ("The Cinema and Me"), sample print reactions to the films including a note on the main deleted Alraune scene, an in-depth study of both films by Water Chaw, and an essay by Stephen R. Bissette about the director's final years.
Reviewed on November 21, 2025