THE INDIAN TOMB (1921)

Prince Ayan, the Majarajah of Eschnapur in India, unearths and awakens the buried yogi Ramigami, who is in a deliberate trance-like state of near death, to do his bidding. He wants to commission a British architect, Herbert Rowland, to build a magnificent tomb, "the tomb of a great love," he says, to compare with the Taj Mahal. Ramagami can transport himself across time and space in an instant, and so appears in Herbert's living room and convinces him to travel to India to take on the project. Herbert leaves a letter telling his fiancée Irene where he's gone, but some time later, the disembodied hand of the yogi appears in the room and takes the letter. Still, Irene manages to piece together where he's gone and goes after him. In Eschnapur, the prince is courtly but a bit mysterious, and we soon get some backstory that Herbert doesn't learn until later: the Princess Savitri is not yet dead. Ayan caught her having an affair with a British officer and has imprisoned her and plans on using the tomb to bury her alive, even as his soldiers are out hunting for her lover, MacAllen. Irene arrives but worried her presence will distract Herbert, Ayan doesn't let them meet. Other complications arise—Ramigami, though forced to help the prince, warns him that nothing good will come of his revenge plans; Savitri's loyal servant Mirrjha gets involved asking Herbert for help; the prince is impressed by Irene's selfless love for Herbert and seems to be attracted to her; MacAllen hides in a hut which soldiers set on fire, but manages to escape; Herbert wanders into the Pit of Penitents, actually a prison for lepers, and contracts leprosy himself. At this point, we’re only halfway through the four-hour movie and, though the pace does slow considerably, there is still plenty of action left before the climax, a chase which ends on a rope bridge over a deep gorge.

This silent movie, directed by Joe May from a screenplay by Fritz Lang and his wife Thea von Harbou (based on a novel she wrote the year before), is the first of three German films based on this material. All three movies are roughly four hours long and were presented in their original runs as two separate films, released a month or so apart. I haven’t seen the 1938 version, but Fritz Lang’s 1959 remake deviates from the core material in several ways, primarily by making the architect the princess's lover. The silent version gives the Ramigami character supernatural powers, putting the movie fully into the fantasy genre. This isn't as much fun as the Lang film, but it is spectacularly made with huge sets, elaborate costumes, romance, hissable villainy, and, allowing for the silent era acting, good performances. Three leading men take the honors. Conrad Veidt (Major Strasser in Casablanca), at top right, is utterly compelling as the prince, coming off as a good and civilized man twisted by jealousy. Bernhard Goetzke is just as good as Ramigami, an interesting character who doesn't get as much screen time as Veidt but is almost as memorable. Paul Richter, later to play the heroic Seigfrid in Lang's epic film Die Nibelungen, pictured at left, gets short shrift as MacAllen, but has a couple of good scenes. I’m shallow enough to wish that Herbert and Irene had been played by younger prettier people. Olaf Fonss and Mia May are OK as Herbert and Irene; both engage in silent movie overacting, but both are energetic enough in action scenes. Lya De Putti (namechecked by Sally Bowles in Cabaret) is sexy as the doomed servant, and Erna Morena has little to do as the princess.

Among the interesting setpieces: two scenes set in a tiger pit, one of which features tigers munching on a dead body; a dance that ends in death by snake bite; the creepy leper pit featuring a man hanging upside down and another one buried to his neck in the dirt floor—the lepers are called penitents so I assume that their disease is thought to caused by sinfulness. The large sets are effective, and the costumes are occasionally dazzling, especially one with a very elaborate headdress worn by Veidt. At four hours, both halves could have been trimmed but still, I quite enjoyed both this and the Lang version. The Blu-ray from Kino has a largely ineffective minimalist score, seemingly composed of blocks of music dropped into sequences without much regard to appropriateness, but the print looks good. Just before I watched this, I read the novel, newly translated into English just a few years ago. Given the long movies made from it, it's fairly short, basically providing seed material for the filmmakers, and the ending is ridiculous, like Von Harbou hit a deadline and stopped. I don’t recommend the book but I do highly recommend both the 1921 and the 1959 films. [Blu-ray]