The Last Laugh (1924)

The Last Laugh (1924)

Directed by F. W. Murnau

Written by Carl Meyer

Runtime: 1 hr, 30 min (U.S. cut)

About two years ago, I came across Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans by German director F. W. Murnau.  A simple fable of sin and redemption and featuring absolutely stunning cinematography and visuals, it quickly became one of my all-time favorite pictures.  Yet I concede I’ve yet to follow up on Murnau’s filmography; shame on me.  Well, after seeing Roger Ebert tweet about today’s movie for his “Daily Streamer” feature, I figured now was a good time to expand my film knowledge.  With all that said: The Last Laugh.

In The Last Laugh (German title: Der letze Mann, literally The Last Man), we follow the life of an unnamed man played Emil Jannings.  Jannings’ character works as a doorman at the glamorous Atlantic Hotel, a post which brings him much pride and admiration in his neighborhood.  Unfortunately, he is getting up there in years, and the hotel moves him from door man to washroom attendant.  The man is devastated, and tries to maintain the dignity which society has suddenly stripped from him.

The cards, sad to say, are stacked against him.  Even though Jannings’ character is portrayed as being full of live, his employers see his age increase and immediately assume he’s too fragile to lift luggage and hail taxicabs.  Further, his superiors actively strip away his powers, tearing off his doorman’s uniform as he stands catatonic in the office.  Sent to the washroom, where he is merely to hold towels for hotel guests, everything that he treasures has been unceremoniously taken away.  It’s an immaculately emasculating sequence of events.

Hell does not stop chasing our hero when he leaves work: when his gossipy neighbors find he’s a washroom attendant, he becomes the laughingstock of the neighborhood and a shame to his family. Jannings totally sells his plight; his eyes are constantly nearly shut and his staggering slouch is never exaggerated but always present.  Yet Jannings also brings a certain resolve to the character, as well.  After all, this is a man who is willing to sneak through the hotel and run across a busy street to retrieve his uniform, just to keep up appearances back home.  No matter what society throws at him, he will not quit.

The Last Laugh raises a difficult question: how can man maintain dignity when society scorns him?  It’s not entirely surprising that the apparent answer is, “He can’t.”  Try as Jannings’ character might, the image of his laughing neighbors and the lost prestige of the uniform are inescapable; they dominate the latter half of the film.  The only place he can find a respite is in his dreams, and even those are incredibly hazy thanks to the incredible camera tricks that Murnau and company employ.  Even where all things are possible, it’s clear it’s an illusion.

Then again, there is also the possibility that the doorman’s plight is the tragic natural order.  Revolving doors are a major motif in the film, used to create optical distortions and suggesting the revolving, cyclical nature of life.  Man ages, moving from his strong and spry youth towards the grave, gradually losing utility to society.  Man gets fired or is forced into retirement, just to have another man take his post and repeat the process.  If this is the case, then life is a completely hopeless proposition.  At least if it’s the fault of society we could strive to change it.

Actually, this idea of natural obsolescence is a bit ironic, considering what happened to the silent movie as a medium.  In fact, The Last Laugh is perhaps the most “silent” silent film I’ve ever seen.  Aside from the introduction, there is exactly one intertitle, and there is no transcribed dialogue.  Everything, all thoughts, actions and emotions, comes from the characters’ facial expressions.  This means that the film is a challenging and demanding watch, but it provides for a very rich experience and a deeper connection to Jannings’ situation.

I should note, though, that the film's ending is, well, not very satisfying.  Apparently, Murnau's distributors demanded that the film have a happy ended to enhance commercial prospects.  At risk of losing the American audience, Murnau obliged, and the film is worse for it.  Now, Murnau is clearly aware of how terrible the finale is--the one intertitle introducing the epilogue says as much--but it's still hard to swallow after the soul-crushing first 5/6 of the film.  I personally can only justify the ending by assuming that the director is God, Murnau is humanity, and the last fifteen minutes represent unattainable heaven and divine justice.

Freely I will admit that the ending to the film is a bit of a letdown, but that was forced on the crew; I can forgive that.  When you combine the gorgeous visual work with Jannings’ top-notch performance, and mix it all up with some appropriately German angst, the end result will be an emotionally draining but enlightening work of cinema--even with the tacked-on happy ending.  This is one of the instances where I’d say, “Drop whatever you’re doing and watch this movie.”  It may only be the second film of his I’ve seen, but it may have made Murnau my favorite director ever.