F.W. Murnau, the genius behind such cinematic landmarks as Sunrise and the original Nosferatu, created with his Faust what many believe to be the definitive cinematic telling of the German legend of Dr. Johann Georg Faust, the timeless tale of a man who sells his soul to the Devil. Of all silent horror films, this one not only stands out from its peers, but is considered one of the greatest (and quite possibly the most overlooked) horror films of all time.

The film opens with Archangel Gabriel (Werner Fuetterer) and the Devil’s minion, Mephisto (Emil Jannings), as they wager for control of the world. Their bounty is the favor of one aged Professor Faust (Gösta Ekman) who, against his better judgment after failing to find a cure via medicine for the recent plague which has struck the land (initiated by Mephisto), accepts omnipotence for “just one trial day” in the wake of the silence when he begged God’s assistance. He implements his newfound power to heal the ailing while disregarding the self-interested benefits he could gain from his newly acquired gift. However, he finds himself unable to save an elderly woman as she holds a cross on her deathbed and the townspeople deduce his command of the plague is due to an alliance with the Devil. Faust returns to his study with the intention to commit suicide after being confronted with the sin he has committed but Faust diverts his attention with the offer of youth (Gösta Ekman again). Mephisto then travels with Faust to Italy where the Duchess of Parma (Hanna Ralph) is about to be married. Faust takes the bride as his own and, just as he vows his love for her, Mephisto informs him that their contract has ceased. Faust agrees to extend his pact for eternity but, immediately after having done so, becomes downtrodden and returns home. Mephisto then introduces Faust to a lovely maiden, Gretchen (Camilla Horn), who is known for her piety. A comic interlude ensues when Mephisto appears in order to distract Gretchen’s homely Aunt Marthe (Yvette Guilbert) in order to allow the couple time alone. The vanity of Mephisto presents itself in the form of him refusing a love potion from Marthe and, instead, offering his own more powerful concoction. Marthe drinks the potion and falls madly in love with Mephisto, who quickly flees. Gretchen, having retired for the night, is greeted by Faust while Mephisto is away, having told Faust he will distract Grethen’s brother Valentin (William Dieterle), as he informs the latter that the virtue of his sister is at stake and can be saved if he hurries. Valentin is killed by Mephisto as he frames Faust. Faust goes into hiding as Gretchen is ostracized by her village as being ultimately responsible for her brother’s death. She has a child and, when the harsh German winter ensues, the child freezes to death. She is sentenced to be burned at the stake. At this point, the camera turns back to Faust, shed of his youth, as he decides to accept or renounce God in the wake of these events.

Aside from the questions concerning good and evil; vanity, power, and lust; the interpretation of morality and theology in general; societal structures; and the question of love in the face of death, Murnau makes sure he attracts and retains the audience’s attention throughout. The director was given full license to spend as much as he needed for this production after the success of The Last Laugh. After procuring some of the greatest names in acting at the time (Lillian Gish refused to play the role of Gretchen once Murnau denied her use of her own private cinematographer), he focused upon the visual depictions, not only of the cast, but of the events and settings within the film. Art directors Robert Herlth and Walter Röhrig created an ethereal world brimming with death as well as life which remain as visually stunning and clear today as they did back in 1926, highlights of which include the terms of the pact between Faust and Mephisto burning itself onto the page and when Mephisto’s eyes, when he first meets Faust, burn into the night as well as when his black cloak threatens to enshroud the town as he looms threateningly over it. Murnau controlled every aspect of this work in order to achieve absolute reaction from his audience on every level. He accomplished this by ordering seemingly countless takes (resulting in continual fatigue from the cast) to stalling the filming in order to assure the light was in proper ratio to the shadow during a given scene (understandably, considering the subject matter). As a result, he gave us, not only one of the greatest works of early cinema, but arguably one of the greatest tales of horror ever told on film.

For those reluctant to enter into the world of silent cinema, Murnau’s Faust is a great starting place because it was so advanced in every aspect during its time that it doesn’t suffer as much in its production values compared to a movie released today and, in many respects, still outshines many contemporary works of film. In this regard, it serves as a great segue into other classics of the time, such as The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, The Phantom of the Opera, and Nosferatu.

-Egregious Gurnow