Main Cast: Emil Jannings, Kurt Hiller, Emelie Kurtz, Hans Unterkirchen
Release Year: 1924
Country: DE
Run Time: 77 minutes
Plot
F.W. Murnau's German silent classic The Last Laugh (Der Letze Mann) stars Emil Jannings as the doorman of a posh Berlin hotel. Fiercely proud of his job, Jannings comports himself like a general in his resplendent costume, and is treated like royalty by his friends and neighbors. The hotel's insensitive new manager, noting that Jannings seems winded after carrying several heavy pieces of luggage for a patron, decides that the old man is no longer up to his job. The manager demotes Jannings to men's washroom attendant, and the effect is disastrous on the man's prestige and self-esteem. Logically, the film should end on a note of tragedy, but Murnau (either because he was ordered to by the producers or because he just felt like it) adds a near-surrealistic coda, wherein Jannings, having suddenly inherited a fortune, returns to the hotel in triumph. The Last Laugh was a bold experiment for its time: a film told entirely visually, with no subtitles save for the semi-satirical explanation of the climax. In a sense, Karl Freund's camera is as much a "character" as anyone else, commenting upon Jannings' rise and fall via then-revolutionary camera angles, jarring movements and grotesque lens distortions. Many historians credit The Last Laugh as the vanguard of the "German invasion" of Hollywood during the mid- to late-1920s. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide
Review
Hailed at the time of its release as the finest film ever made, Der Letzte Mann wowed domestic and international audiences with its stunning technical and stylistic innovation. Concerning the downward spiral of a proud hotel doorman who becomes a lowly bathroom attendant, the film captures the shame and humiliation felt by the German people in the aftermath of their World War I defeat, artfully fusing gritty social realism with the sort of expressionistic visual style found in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919). When the doorman is stripped of his military-like uniform, this once proud and erect figure seems slumped and broken. Brought to life by Emil Jannings's once-in-a-lifetime performance, the defrocked Doorman clings to the walls as if the weight of his disgrace threatens to crush him. His almost fetishistic attachment to his uniform both mirrored Germany's longing for order after its forced, post-WWI disarmament and eerily presaged its slide into Nazism. Yet what proved to be the most influential aspect of this film was director F. W. Murnau's striking visual style. What cinematographer Karl Freund dubbed the "unchained camera" was strikingly mobile for its time, starting with the opening shot, in which the camera descends to a hotel lobby in an elevator and is then propelled through the room towards a revolving door and the protagonist. Murnau's and Freund's inventive camerawork broadened cinema's emotional palette. Never before had a film so penetrated the individual psyche of an individual character in the context of a more or less straightforward narrative. At one point in the film, after the Doorman steals the uniform, he perceives that the hotel is about to fall on top of him; in another, a montage of distorted and grotesque imagery brilliantly evokes the Doorman's drunken, dispirited point-of-view. Despite its absurdly tacked-on happy ending, reportedly forced by the studio, Der Letzte Mann remains a towering cinematic achievement that still moves and dazzles. ~ Jonathan Crow, All Movie Guide
Max Hiller - Her bridegroom; Georg John - Night Watchman; Olaf Storm - Young Guest; Hermann Vallentin - Guest with pointed belly; Emmy Wyde - Thin Neighbor; Maly Delschaft - The doorman's niece
Switching to the aggro-punk label Amphetamine Reptile might have seemed a slightly odd choice for Creed, but then again, his own brand of in-your-face sonic attacks isn't that far removed from a lot of AmRep fare (and arguably is much better than most). After producing his first two albums himself, Creed worked with Seattle-based legend Jack Endino, who was perfectly sympathetic to Creed's own philosophies of full feedback sound and massive crunch. The end result was a great trip that started to win Creed greater attention among a younger crowd generally unaware of Chrome's work. With a wholly new rhythm section (bassist Daniel House, drummer Jason Finn), Creed set to work with a three-part opening track that included some of the fastest tempos he'd yet worked with. The low burr of the guitars and manic avant-garage soloing, not to mention the expected vocal treatments, show that it's still Creed at the controls. As with much of his past work, while on the one hand he has a clear formula, on the other, he knows how to spike the punch just enough. Thus, the backward-masked weirdness that leads into the suitably calm "The Dream" or ever so slightly dub-touched drums on "Road out of Hell." The rhythm team knows how to lay down the steady, Krautrock-tinged pace that so often helps define Creed's work when called for, while Endino balances sonic oomph with the cryptic, swirling touches that make the music all the more discrete and weird. Once or twice Creed flirts with a more direct style of performing -- "Nirbasion Annasion" has an anthemic build cropping up once or twice amid the steady chug, while "Where the Children Are" actually has him singing about "wishing on a star" -- though in a rather different context. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
This was one of the first films to incorporate a moving camera, although references to cameras following characters up stairs in Murnau's earlier (now lost) film, Der Januskopf, may point to an even earlier use. The set was built entirely within a studio, unusual for Murnau who preferred to shoot on location.
In 2000, it was added to Roger Ebert's list of Great Movies.[1]
Jannings' character, the doorman for a famous hotel, is demoted to washroom (bathroom) attendant, as he is considered too old and infirm to be the image of the hotel. He tries to conceal his demotion from his friends and family, but to his shame, he is discovered. His friends, thinking he has lied to them all along about his prestigious job, taunt him mercilessly while his family rejects him out of shame. The man, shocked and in incredible grief, returns to the hotel to sleep in the bathroom where he works. The only person to be kind towards him is the night watchman, who covers him with his coat as he falls asleep.
Following this comes the film's only title card, which says: "Here the story should really end, for, in real life, the forlorn old man would have little to look forward to but death. The author took pity on him and has provided a quite improbable epilogue."[2]
At the end, the doorman inherits a fortune and is able to dine happily at the same hotel he used to work for.
