Fritz Lang’s cinema of interruption and the narrative of modernity

Abstract

A pair of anonymous hands draws photographs of various male faces from a deck, one by one. A fade and superimposition lead to a man (played by Rudolf Klein-Rogge) shuffling the same photos – the faces soon to be revealed as masks – from which he will choose an identity for his next escapade. We remain throughout the sequence in a world of intrigue, awaiting clarification. Following an exchange with a man named Spoerri, with whom he trades threats, the character pulls out a pocket watch, and the film cuts to an approaching train. Another cut takes us into a train compartment with a man who holds a document of some kind. He shares the carriage with another man who seems to be sleeping. Then, across a cut-in to a close-up, the fellow traveller opens one shifty eye to spy the documents lying on the opposite seat. Images of a car, more close-ups on pocket watches, a man having his hair done, a murder, a theft and a telephone call are edited together before the man we once thought was sleeping is seen in long shot jumping out of the train. A cut to Swiss bank notes being given to a legless man on the street. We understand that time is of the essence thanks to a repeated close-up of a pocket watch followed by a servant’s tardiness and, in turn, an accident that holds up the car racing through the streets. However, we do not yet know the reason for the hurry.