Sunrise (1927) September 30th, 2023

Watching old silent films is always a crap shoot. You can bet any movie that’s sustained positive word-of-mouth for a century possesses some measure of quality, but how does it hold up? Is it enjoyable today, or are its merits purely academic? Unfortunately for Sunrise, it’s a bit of both.

In Sunrise, an adulterous husband’s mistress suggests he murder his wife, sell his farm, abandon his child (‘I’ve abandoned my boy!’), and move with her to the city. He readily agrees and immediately sets out to drown her in a nearby lake. Once on the water, he has a change of heart, but not before his wife wises up. She immediately bolts for a nearby trolly as soon as they make shore. He chases her and they ride into the city where he apologizes and begs her forgiveness to no avail. Until they happen upon a cathedral, and an active wedding ceremony. They pop in, observing two young people pledging their love and lives to one another. Witnessing the moment shreds the adulterer’s remaining strength, reducing him to a puddle in his wife’s lap.

His heartfelt repentance earns his wife’s forgiveness and they spend the next half hour traipsing around the city getting haircuts, posing for portraits, and playing carnival games all while reinvigorating their love for one another. At day’s end, they row back home during a thunderstorm. The waves crashing into the boat send them overboard, and only the husband makes it to shore. He runs into town and strikes up a search party to search the lake. They come back empty-handed. Furious with heartbreak the newly widowed man finds his mistress and begins strangling her in the street… until he hears the shouting. Someone has found his wife in the lake, and she’s alive! He nurses her back to health and they live happily ever after, except for the mistress. She takes a carriage to the city alone, looking like a cat caught in the rain.

Sunrise is a visual masterpiece stuffed with innovative camera techniques and imaginative blocking and composition surpassing its contemporary films by leaps and bounds. F.W. Murnau proves himself an expert filmmaker by mastering show-don’t-tell. Every shot in the dreadfully suspenseful first half clearly conveys the precise emotion Murnau intends. The husband’s hunched shoulders and disheveled appearance perfectly convey his menacing intentions. The family’s dog who breaks his chain to stop the couple from disembarking on their murderous voyage adds a brief sequence to heighten the sense of suspenseful foreboding. Murnau’s skill is all the more confirmed when reflecting on his limited use of intertitles, there can’t be more than 10 in Sunrise‘s 94 minutes. 

Unfortunately, once the wife forgives the husband, the suspenseful tone gives way to a flat-out slapstick romcom. All the playful courtship sequences in the city feel as jarringly disparate from the previous section’s thriller tone as dousing oneself with a bucket of ice water after a 20-minute sauna. Both sections showcase Murnau’s skill but the dramatic shift between the two hits Sunrise like a speed bump.

Earlier I questioned if Sunrise holds up today and aside from the tonal inconsistency, I’d say absolutely. I don’t believe I’ve seen an earlier film dealing with matricide or adultery as plainly as Sunrise. It is deserving of perhaps the greatest compliment I can bestow on a silent film, it didn’t make me fall asleep.

That’s bitchy and mean, but truly, Sunrise is all it’s cracked up to be. A visual astonishment, a beautifully acted melodrama, a masterpiece. Obviously, silent films aren’t for everyone, but if you enjoy the refined taste of pantomime and dropped frames I enthusiastically recommend Sunrise. I’ll use this opportunity (and influential platform) to plug your local library. I tried watching Sunrise on Amazon Prime only to be interrupted by commercials. I arose such a clatter throwing open my shuttered windows to shout”Fuck that!” to anyone who would listen in the busy street below. Finding no eager ears, I skittered to the computer and my library’s website. A quick search and a few days later I had a beautiful Blu-ray copy in my hands free of charge but most importantly, free of ads. 

Cut the cord! Don’t give Bezos another dime! Make Netflix regret destroying the theater, TV, and home video markets! You can do all this and support state-sponsored piracy by visiting your local library!