M
1931's M has one of the most stunning climaxes I have seen in a motion picture. It is prefaced beautifully by a manhunt in Berlin for a serial killer, a deeply ill man who abducts and murders children. Director Fritz Lang's film, his first employing sound, gives us glimpses of Han Beckert (Peter Lorre), a stout, unassuming Everyman who evades capture for longer than perhaps even he imagined. Why does he send missives to the local papers, promising to kill again? How is it that he is so careless as to allow handwriting exemplars to pinpoint exact writing instruments used? You might say that Beckert wants to be caught, perhaps to be put out of his misery.
That takes us back to the climax, when Becker finds himself being interrogated for his crimes. Standing before a large audience of accusers who want his hide. There is also a counsel for his defense, one that is at first somewhat apathetic and defeated but then emboldened. The killer breaks down and admits that he is utterly helpless, captive to his obsessions. Loses his mind in the midst of and his memory after the heinous deeds. His tribunal is not made up of attorneys and policemen and jurors, but rather other criminals who conduct illicit underworld affairs. They too had taken up a manhunt to put down this monster as the police's relentless pursuits and raids were disrupting their business. But when they capture the pitiful wreck and browbeat him into a damning confession, they reveal themselves to be just as outraged by his crimes as those heartbroken parents.
But they are also shown to be a bloodthirsty mob. As vengeful as said parents. Lang frames their faces in twisted, sadistic fervor for justice. Ready to hang him even without evidence, just as the characters from all walks of life we have seen throughout the film were. All ready to succumb to paranoia, ready to sentence even their friends and neighbors. This collective mentality forms part of the theme of M, which was co-written by the director and his wife Thea von Harbou. This element is especially interesting (and prescient) in the setting of pre-WW II Germany. The film also sets standards for future police procedurals and modern day crime stories and thrillers, yet within the context of grand tragedy with a deep, contemplative consciousness about human nature that infects every scene, every consideration of the passing of time (another repeated motif).
Lang mesmerizes with his scenes of argumentative men, all appearing inhuman and lusty. Police chiefs salivate when an informant sings. Thieves bypass safes filled with treasures to corner their target, a sick individual who lures children with balloons and smiles. Beckert is seen making exaggerated, evil faces into a mirror (the first good look at him we get, in fact) but perpetually sports a visage of discomfort. Lorre does seriously good work, esepcially his tour de force speech at the end. What his character represents can be debated for years. That he ends up in a court presided over by other criminals says even more. It is grand cinema and theater, a virtuostic sequence in a brilliantly conceived and executed film. Breathtaking, really.
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