In German films of the Expressionist era from 1920 to 1927, class and wealth distinctions between people were presented visually in a variety of ways. All films produced at this time were silent, so any distinctions between human beings were necessarily visual. For the purposes of this article, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919), Nosferatu (1922), and Metropolis (1927) will be examined in this regard. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essayThe intertitles for each of these films were originally in German. As translation is problematic at best, the diction and grammar of the speakers' words, which are common markers of class and education, in the English intertitles will not be taken into account. Additionally, the musical accompaniments used for films in this era varied between showings at different times and in different theaters (Thomson and Bordwell, 22) and between different versions, so any consideration of accompanying music as an explainer social rank is impossible. Thus, the entire stratification of personal wealth, rank and social class will be examined only in the visual domain. The directors of these films (Robert Wiene, FW Murnau and Fritz Lang, respectively) were skilled in this type of visual communication, and used various common techniques to put these layerings on screen and make them intelligible to the audience. There is a fundamental difference between human perception of visual images and perception of sound: “There is an important element of our ability to observe images, whether still or moving, that depends on learning. It is interesting to note that this is not true to a large extent with auditory phenomena” (Monaco, 125). The audience, to a certain extent, sees what they want to see in a film. He can look at one part of the screen or another, whether it is the center or the sides, where the main action of the scene takes place, or one side or an auxiliary action, or part of the screen where no action is happening, or watching it at all. The same is not true, at least not to the same extent, when listening to the sound of a film. Hearing is largely passive, and unless there is complete distraction, diminished hearing, or earplugs, it is very difficult for a listener not to hear. what is happening around him. Language or vocabulary barriers may exist, but that is not the same as choosing not to look at a certain part of a screen, or choosing to disregard costume or overall appearance of a character by focusing his vision on it. only the face or hands of a character. Therefore, for the filmmaker to have an effective way to visually communicate something about a character, it must be done in an obvious, visually appealing way (in the sense of attracting attention, not beauty or beauty ). call,) and very clearly. The character in question, in a silent film, cannot come forward and say, directly or indirectly, "I am a character of high or low social status, rich or living in poverty." Most of this information (aside from the information conveyed in intertitles, which has been ignored for the purposes of this article, see above) in a silent film must be presented visually and must be done in a manner easily readable and accepted by viewers. In The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, the clothing and sometimes the gestures evoking the attitude of the characters function as the mainway to show class and wealth. Mise en scene, while celebrated and certainly unique (mise en scene defined, according to Corrigan, as "all properties of a cinematic image that exist independently of camera position, camera movement, and editing, including including lighting, costumes, sets, quality of acting and other forms and characters in the scene” functions as the primary means of conveying the characters' class and place in society. The film illustrates this stratification somewhat, but each character's background is so very vague and almost entirely implied that it cannot be relied upon for an explanation. It is not known, for example, their occupations or sources of income. Francis or Alan, nor whether they were employed, inactive, or students Jane's status as Dr. Olson's daughter is known, but other than that there are few clues in the story as to the arrangements. financial or social of one of these characters. It could be argued that the social or economic rank of these characters is irrelevant to the story, but it is also important to note that some details of these characters' social status have been communicated to the audience and are therefore part of the story. For example, Alan, the murder victim, is shown in his apartment (a garret-like artist or student residence, if there was ever one depicted in the film) - it is plain, clean, on an upper and solitary floor - unencumbered by family and domestic life) in the free attitude of the young man. He has no family to take care of or parents to dominate him. He is shown rising alone, observing the fine weather and reading a book. This connotation of learning also implies that Alan, although not rich, is part of the leisured or at least scholarly or artistic class, and is not required to spend his days in manual labor. Once Alan decides to go out, he puts on a coat with a cape attached, slung over his shoulder casually. This is not a worker's coat. It has a certain style and is worn in a way that evokes the individuality of the wearer, not just the utility of the garment's warmth and protection. This too, in a few frames of the film, gives us the impression of a free young man with at least some source of independent income. Once on the carnival trail, Alan and Francis wander around in a friendly posture, surveying the sights. They lean on each other in a friendly way, testifying to a long friendship and perhaps even a kind of brotherly intimacy. It also gives an idea of ​​their social status. They are “young men in town,” able to have the leisure to visit the sights and enjoy each other’s company. The young men's mutual regard for Jane, as shown in the street scene where they walk her home, also gives viewers the impression that they are gentlemen. Here, the intertitles give us a good idea of ​​the social rank of these men, but in a dramatic rather than linguistic way. They agree to remain friends, regardless of the lady's choice. It is a courteous and chivalrous code of conduct generally associated with the upper classes. It is a civilized and non-violent way to avoid possible conflicts in the future, over a common source of conflicts between people: romantic jealousy. Their clothes, everywhere, remain nondescript suits, ties and gentleman's hats. They are clean shaven and their hair is well combed. Their appearances, however, contrast with the attire of the assassin of the old woman accused of Cesare's crimes. His heavy boots andhis thick coat, as well as his unkempt hair and beard, clearly show him as a desperate working-class man, possibly murdering for financial gain. Perhaps this was presented to the audience in order to induce less sympathy for the wrongly accused man and for the story to continue unimpeded so that Cesare would have his chance to murder Jane. Often, but not always, lower class people in films are presented in a less sympathetic light than upper classes, or at least characters representing "upper class" values ​​and behaviors, such as the chivalrous behavior of Alan and Francis, regardless of their nature. of their own financial situation, rather than characters representing lower class values ​​in any strata of society. Jane's social status and lack of occupation are clearer; it is obvious that she is the daughter of a doctor. She lives in a comfortable and luxurious house with a richly furnished bedroom, high windows and servants. She is contrasted, only briefly, with the woman who sounds the alarm for the old woman's murderer. There's less room for costume comparison here because Jane is essentially the only woman in the film. Nosferatu presents further challenges in categorizing visual cues of social rank and status by appearance, as it is a story set in 1838. The era's costumes were necessarily different from 1922 Germany and should be presented in a manner understandable to contemporary audiences. This was achieved in several ways. Harker wears a coat (incidentally similar to Alan's in Caligari) with a layered shoulder cape and matching cap. This is obviously the traveling suit of a gentleman, or at least of a man with gentlemanly pretensions. This contrasts with the appearance of Harker's putative superior, the madman Renfield, who wears ill-fitting and eccentric clothes and has the most straight and uneven hair. Harker's hairstyle, in comparison, is fluffy and artistic-looking, and what one might expect a young man of scholarly or artistic bent (again, like Alan and Francis) to wear in this era. Count Orlak's oriental hairstyle is an example of an old-style hairstyle commonly worn by the Romanian aristocracy (Ionescu). The turban, of course, was used to hide the vampire's horribly pointed bat ears, but it also served a few other functions, providing visual cues for the vampire. viewers. Turbans were considered fashionable aristocratic affectations in that region and era, and were particularly worn in the previous century until the time of the story, the 18th (Ionescu.). This gives an idea of ​​the vampire's advanced age (perhaps even his age). immortality), and is also a mark of his high social rank. The attire of the women in this film, Nina and Lucy, was simple, modest dark day dresses, visible and notable only, perhaps, because they were made of silk. It was a somewhat luxurious fabric, but Nina's profession of fine embroidery (a lady's handiwork, rather than basic clothing making or knitting for her family or for profit) further demonstrates his availability of free time. She is never seen engaging in any activity other than reading or embroidery, implying that she has the time and money for such leisure activities. All of this, while adding to the overall tension of the story of her constantly waiting and watching Harker, implies that the Harkers belong to a somewhat quiet class of employees, on the extreme., 2003.