Horsemen from Hell: Murnau's Faust

 

The hideous horsemen from hell. From Murnau's Faust, the movie of my dreams.

A Faustian Bargain (or, white robes and turkey soup)

One of my weirder dreams, which I only remember in detail because I had it right before I woke up.

Faustian Dream  March 24, 2023

We were having people over for homemade turkey soup which I always make after Xmas.  I don't know how many (seven?), or whether they were friends or relatives, though my brother Walt seemed to be in the mix. 

I was busy preparing for this by knitting white garments out of sheep wool for everyone to wear. These were long robes, floor-length, with long sleeves and hoods.

We were all going to watch the silent film version of Murnau's Faust on TV.

I realized there was not enough meat for the soup, so I went to look in the freezer. I also realized all the knitted robes were child-sized and would not fit anyone. The robes also had legs like they were pants or jumpsuits.

I had complaints (from someone?) that the wool used in the robes irritated some people’s skin and they couldn’t wear them, and I wished I had used synthetic, but the real wool was to give the robes a special quality and significance and would cost more.

We watched a part of  Faust which I hadn’t seen before (I expected to see the phantom horses at the start, but saw some sort of Cyclops being killed and wondered if this was a director’s cut). Gabor Mate was at this event and wearing a very short version of the gown with skinny legs sticking out – he was on my right. He was the only person I recognized. Others were there, very vague and shadowy but, did not know who they were or how many or even why they were there.

I wore the gown with the hood pulled up, like a Druid.

Now that I look at it, this seems like a sort of cult wearing robes I’d made, and eating food I made, but I still have no idea who they were or why we were there or what sort of cult it was, or why I would ever organize or take part in a cult to begin with, as I hate them, but am also fascinated with them and can't get enough of reading about them and watching documentaries about them. I have recently been reading about NXVIM, or however you spell it, the cult where women are held down and branded. No branding took place, but no one ate turkey soup either, and except for Gabor Mate no one seemed to be wearing the robes (but I am not sure because I could not really see them). The familiar music from the opening of Faust was playing, but it looked all different (I had seen a clip from it recently).

And all this before breakfast!

Ten-second Cinema: Nosferatu in five easy takes

 

Hello, and welcome to your first lesson in German Expressionism. Here we have a very creepy fellow who doesn't look at all like a proper vampire, but nevertheless, that's what he's supposed to be.

Here at Ten-second Cinema, we stick to the good part. It saves a lot of time. Nosferatu really is creepy but anyone's standards. It all has to do with the lighting, and the apparent stillness of the creature. 

Here we have Ed Asner in an earlier incarnation, grabbing what must be a mosquito out of the air and eating it while a scientist and a dismayed constable look on.

Since it's hard, if not impossible to tell a story in ten-second snippets, I grab whatever arresting images I can find. Everyone's on edge here. Nosferatu seeks a creamy neck, and WILL find one soon.

I don't know why they don't just put him in the slammer here and now. He's obviously a pervert.

No one can explain why the titles are so crooked in this thing. But it gives away the ending. Critics have mentioned the eroticism in the story, and it's true that "offering her blood freely" is creepily - no, I won't say sexy, but fraught with something-or-other. The implication in vampire movies has always been that fear is entwined with desire. To be honest, if I had my pick, I'd choose Bela Lugosi. Or maybe even Grandpa Munster.

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