Review of M (1931) by Daniel T — 07 Aug 2010

A young girl looks longingly into the glass window of a candy shop. A man approaches from behind, whistling an eerie tune. He eyes her ravenously, sweat beads slowly rising on his fleshy cheeks. He buys her candy and she lets him walk her home. A balloon floats in front of the camera, no longer a prisoner to the small hand that held it. A slipper is thrown to the grass. And a little girl is being killed.

We never see the crime take place. But it happens. And keeps happening to the young girls of an unassuming German city. A killer stalks the streets, preying on the youth. Who could possibly commit such an evil?

"M," directed by the master Fritz Lang, is a look into evil. It is an examination of a society that finds itself violated, betrayed, vulnerable, and nearly beaten. When kids start vanishing like flies, the fingers start pointing. The police start searching. Their searches are fruitless. Scouring the lower class doldrums and petty criminals for the killer, the police look for a person that fits their psychology of a murderer. Someone poor, someone without hope, someone that can't afford a normal life. They underestimate the criminal mind. Why should killers fit a certain description? Well, as we know today, they don't. The killer could be anyone. Anyone.

Fritz Lang's story actually reveals the child killer to us within the first few scenes. So, for us, this is no mystery. All we can do is watch from a distance the police figure this out for themselves. It takes a while, but eventually headway is made. In the process, a town grows rowdy. Office shakeups become a pattern, but the citizens grow restless with this tedious interrogation. They know they didn't do it. And we know they didn't either. It is frustrating for us too.

"M" is a film with a message. The message is explicit, as you will see in the final moments. However, it is quite radical for the way it presents a portrait of evil. Psychology comes into play. Was the killer truly guilty of these horrendous acts or was he simply insane, unable to ignore his bloody appetite for young girls? Is lack of sanity enough to excuse a man from death? Is it really? The film offers these questions and smartly avoids answering them for us. The answers depend on us. Every viewer will read this film differently.

Great lighting and great shadows give the film its beautiful noir look. And this is, indeed, a beautiful black and white film. I love the decision of the film's title also. Why M? What does that even mean? The film is very clever in its use of this cryptic letter. In fact, the whole story revolves around its mention.

Peter Lorre gives a stunning performance as the obsessed killer. His final courtroom scene rivals some of the greatest acting ever put on the screen. You will be reminded of Daniel Day Lewis in his baptism scene in TWBB or Heath Ledger as Joker in TDK. This is powerful, ferocious, desperate acting. Could that possibly be an iota of sympathy we feel for the killer? No, it couldn't be. What he did was sick. Just sick. But nevertheless, his screams for mercy unsettled me.

"M" is just a great, great movie. It is fun to watch as entertainment, illuminating as a social commentary, and technical magic to behold as a cinephile. Its message of a killer's impact on society and the society's capability for justice is still as prevalent today as it was in 1931. You will recognize the killer's whistling ditty and think "so that's where that tune came from." I haven't revealed too much on plot, but there is a very interesting triad of opposing authorities at work: the local criminals, the police, and the killer himself. All three groups do not fit neatly into a simple black and white morality. The criminals aren't just bad and the police force aren't just good.

In particular, pay close attention to one scene where Lang has placed the camera beneath a police sheriff's desk. The overweight sheriff sits in his chair, smoking a thick cigar. The camera from below focuses on his groin, especially the folds of fat near his private section. It is really a gross image that repulses us. Suddenly, we don't like the police force as much as we did. Suddenly, they don't look all pure and noble. More piggish, in fact.

In short, I urge you to watch "M." It is the definition of a film noir. Shadows carry heavy burdens and nightmares. We deduce happenings from what we don't see, not necessarily what we do see. No one is pure of heart. No one except the victims whose life was cut short by a thoughtless evil. And the mothers, anxiously waiting for a door to open and their little girl to come bursting through, her smile contagious. But that door never opens. And no amount of justice will bring her back.