The MoFo Movie Club Discussion: Metropolis

The ending of Metropolis has often been viewed very cynically as sort of a cliche. They are right to point out that labour and capital are irreconcilable, a simple gesture of RECOGNITION doesn't redress the stark division of duties within society (political rights are quite empty). But maybe critics overlook this fact - its a far more pessimistic outlook about what utopia looks like. Any society will have to rely on a (large) underclass that sustains it, even the most advance or complex of machineries require the small cogs, screws, connecting pipes in order for the whole machine to function. Doesn't the whole come before the parts? I think thats the parallel that Metropolis emphatically puts across, albeit perhaps too repetitively without much subtlety.

We might as well say that prosecution and defense are irreconcilable in the legal system. Even so, the system works, because we have an intermediary (i.e., the jury). Metropolis explicitly calls for an intermediary between the "heart" and the "head." Basically, this is the role of regulation (e.g., revocation of corporate charters of bad actors, enforcement of the right for labor to unionize, breaking up monopolies, redistributing wealth through taxation).

They are irreconcilable because both operate according to their own respective logic, hence the only way out is to have an external meta-logic that supersedes/transcends both. In legalistic terms its the jury that enforces the rule-of-law, which of course has to derive its principles from outside the system (ie. based on certain axioms which invoke something that is self-proving like the concept of inalienable natural rights, the social contract or a Rawlsian thought experiment for redistributive justice. and so on...)

In Metropolis, this figure of justice is necessarily messianic. This is what elevates Metropolis, a critical aspect of the film which is solely underappreciated by most critics, from one that describes society becoming increasingly as mechanical as that of science/technology to one where a quasi-spiritual force is required in order for the "head" and "heart" to interact. But one may not even be superstitious to believe this messianic figure is simply a metaphor standing in for a crisis which plagues any worldview that insists reality is nothing other than purely mechanical, physical forces.

To offer simpler example in which the domain is objective (i.e., not requiring a trusted interpreter to determine the winner), consider the game of chess. Both parties want to win, but the meaning of winning in chess is that of playing by its rules. You have to take turns. The are rules about how and when you may move a piece. I want to beat you in a game of chess. You want to beat me. However, we both want to play the game. Our shared logic is the formal structure of the game. We even have a shared goal (to play that game). You don't need a jury for a chess game, but occasionally you do need a referee there to fairly enforce the rules. At any rate, the only thing irreconcilable in the game of chess is the localized incentive of both players to attempt to win. But we also have the shared incentive of wanting a good game (why else play?).
That messianic force is simply "empathy." Replicants in the neo-Metropolis titled Blade Runner are caught out when they fail an empathy test. Jon Frederson also fails the empathy test. He care as little for his workers as Eldon Tyrell does his creations. His son mixes with the poors because he falls for a cutie and discovers the stark realities of working condition of the great city. He has has empathy. The problem is structural detachment. The managers don't live in the same part of the world as their workers, so their empathy is not activated (they don't even see them).

I guess we could view the film as a warning to capitalists. It's nice to be rich and all, but if you push the workers too far that thing that happened in Russia in 1917 can happen here too. Or as Mark Blyth is fond of saying to controller of giant hedge funds, "The Hamptons is not a defensible position."
This is good stuff. Yes, this is the crisis of modernity. A universe without telos is a universe without virtue.

I am a bit more jaded. I suspect that because our "Messiah" in this film came from the ruling class (not a babe in a manger) and because he is the son of the Frederson the vision of the film is conservative (with a small "c"). If the only representation the workers are going to get is the occasionally flash of empathy after rich people go slumming, the system will be massively rigged against the little people. This city ain't a democracy or a republic.

Except that both cannot agree by the same set of rules in the first place. The capitalist maintains that production figures be met and surpassed, keeping wages in check, etc. while the working class demands for greater security, benefits, etc. In any dispute, both parties have their own priorities/objectives, yet the judiciary has to make the impossible task of "resolving" the conflict of interest. It has to invoke justification for enforcing a set of rules which neither party can agree to without changing their own respective interests. That justification has to draw upon a higher order abstraction - like stipulating that below a certain level is deemed unfair, while above is not.

That's the final "resolution" that the film purports. Which is why many have criticized it as being a little too reductionist or trite. It's messianic in this sense - it is necessarily mystical. What is the basis for empathy? Based on what you describe, we get a closer idea... it is the FACE of the other. Or more specifically, encountering the face of the other (Levinas). Seeing the face of the other in the flesh forms the basis of Levinas's philosophy. In the age of technology, this face is mediated, distorted, even bypassed (the virtual face?). That's one of the major critics of the face - does it have to be human? And does this imply that only an un-mediated encounter will provide the basis for the possibility of empathy?


My interpretation was that the messiah isn't the working class son, but the scientist's invention. This messiah also has a double-face. It was originally intended to serve a different purpose but its inception soon aroused the darkest passions of men and set in motion a chain of chaotic events, unintended by the creator. That was the catalyst which unleashed the crisis, allowing the empathetic son to play his role in mediation.

Reminder: I'm going to remove any posts that deviate from the film itself. If you want to talk about economics as they relate to the film and its views a bit, that's fine, but using it as a jumping off point to discuss the virtues or flaws or various contentious economic systems isn't. Thanks in advance.

No worries, the discussion isn't about the merits of certain economic systems (afterall, we live in a reality where only one matters) but how this early silent film broaches contemporary issues related to how modern mechanized society is organized.

What interests me the most is the final "resolution" which many have criticized, and proffering a defense for it.

Cool, just making sure. It's a fine line sometimes and all that.

What you list here are incentives of the players (who always want "more") and not the rules themselves (which bind both sides).

Most of the time we can and do proceed from a common set of rules. We may not like it entirely. It may not be perfectly fair, but we play by the rules (even if we skirt them a bit...).

Games, of course, are dynamic. Rules change. There are happy and unhappy periods. The failure of the oligarchs in Metropolis is that they fail to realize that the conditions of the basic agreement are in jeopardy. When this happens is reform, revolution, striking, negotiation, etc.

I think we should have a care not be too jaded or optimistic. Civilizations may all be doomed to fail, but some are better than others, and many offer periods of stability. Metropolis is a civilization at a tipping point. It can course-correct or it can embrace chaos. These are moments that call forth messiahs and demagogues, right?

I have personally wondered about all those ancient civilizations that didn't leave giant monuments behind that didn't worship some head cheese as a God. Monuments elevate some Frederson or Ozymandias as having built the highest. So what? What of that forgotten civilization that just threw better parties and/or stored more grain? What if they were happier? I sometimes wonder if the "greatest" (as in the most humane, just, and stable) civilizations are the ones which are basically lost to history, because they did not leave behind the architecture of some Metropolis (a ziggurat a pyramid, a statue, a colosseum). Metropolis is, in part, a Babylon question, right? How high can we build that tower before the very verticality of its reach becomes tyrannical?

The flip side of that coin is Monty Python's bit about "What did the Romans ever do for us?" And apart from the canals and the roads and the healthcare and the Twelve Tables and the aqueducts and the baths and the wine and the education and the peace they didn't do much, right? Should our reach exceed our grasp or should we seek unambitious equilibrium?
There are edge cases (and we should remember that hard cases often make for bad laws), but the application of law is often a rather pedestrian affair.
This is, again, good stuff. I don't know. I think am resistant to the idea of regarding looking a person in the face as being "mystical" in some way. No, that's just human. That's mirror neurons. That's perspective taking. That's an ability we particular monkeys have developed that have made us almost eusocial creatures (only insects outdo us in cooperativeness as they are giant hives of siblings). It's not magic. It's biology. It why we can build towers and other monkeys just throw poo. If we had to literally look the other in the face to empathize, books wouldn't work (although the symbol itself seems to be a certain kind of magic we've concocted or discovered). That stated, it arguably helps when we're forced to see what we're up to (e.g., local Germans were forced to visit those camps to confront what they turned a blind eye to during the war).

Is this "reductionist" or "trite" or is this our strong suit? I am going to hold out for the possibility that this is neither mystical nor oversimplified, but rather our greatest feature as a mammalian species. I think the critique might protest a bit too much. Maybe things aren't that complicated? Maybe we do need mutual love. Maybe that is the answer? Maybe that's why we need crazy idealistic kids like Maria and Fred? Maybe our technology and theory (especially all that crap we read in college) alienates us from ourselves?
Hmm, you appear to be deeper on this film, much deeper, than I am. Again. I don't know, but it's interesting to consider.