And why is it that the im- age disappears from front-page articles, essays, and
critiques
the way it disappears from the walls of middle-class apartments?
Kittler-Gramophone-Film-Typewriter
.
it was typical that distraction from the symptoms of the disease and the suspension of external stimuli were sufficient to reduce, or almost completely eliminate, [hysterical] movements.
By contrast, it is enough to draw attention to phenomena, or for the physician to examine the patient, even just step up to him, in or- der for dysfunctions to appear with greater intensity.
"97
That is how psychiatry-whose attention had lately been running on automatic pilot, that is, filmically-itself discovered Charcot's simple se- cret, long before Foucault ever did; namely, that every test produces what it allegedly only reproduces. According to Dr. Hennes, who is fearless about contradicting himself and could even describe the doctor's attention as a contraindication after recommending it a moment before, it is quite likely that there would be no madness without filming it:
How often does it happen to the professor that a patient fails during a lecture, that a manic suddenly changes his mood, a catatonic suddenly fails to perform his stereotyped movements. Although he executed his pathological movements with- out disturbance on the ward, the changed environment of the lecture hall has the effect of not letting him produce his peculiarities-so that he does not display precisely what the professor wanted him to demonstrate. Other patients show their interesting oddities "maliciously," only when there are no lectures, continu- ing education courses, and so on. Such occurrences, which are frequently dis- turbing to the clinical lecturer, are almost completely corrected by the cinemato- graph. The person doing the filming is in a position to wait calmly for the best possible moment to make the recording. Once the filming is done, the pictures are available for reproduction at any moment. Film is always "in the mood. " There are no failures. 98
That means that films are more real than reality and that their so- called reproductions are, in reality, productions. A psychiatry beefed up by media technologies, a psychiatry loaded with scientific presumptions, flips over into an entertainment industry. In view of the "rapid dissemi- nation of this invention and the unmatched popularity it has attained in
? such a short time,"99 Hennes advises his profession to create, "through collective participation and collaboration, a cinematographic archive analogous to the phonographic one. "lOO
Hence it is no wonder that the " great hysterical arc" disappears from nosology or the world shortly after its storage on film. Since there are "no failures" and mad people on film are "always 'in the mood,'" inmates of insane asylums can forgo their performances and withhold their "inter- esting oddities 'maliciously'" from all storage media. At the same time, psychiatrists no longer have to hunt for their ungrateful human demon- stration material. The only thing they have to do is shoot silent films, which as such (through the isolation of movements from the context of all speech) already envelop their stars in an aura of madness. To say noth- ing of the many possible film tricks that could chop up and reassemble these body movements, until the simulacrum of madness was perfect.
The age of media (not just since Turing's game of imitation) renders indistinguishable what is human and what is machine, who is mad and who is faking it. If cinematographers can "correct in an almost perfect way" disturbing occurrences of non-madness, they might as well film paid actors instead of asylum inmates. Although the historiography of film presumes a line of development from fairground entertainment to ex- pressionist film art, it is closer to the truth to speak of an elegant leap from experimental setups into an entertainment industry. Actors, that is, the doppelgangers of the psychiatrically engineered insane, visited the mOVle screen.
Certainly, Dr. Robert Wiene's Cabinet ofDr. Caligari ( 1920) seems to see cinema itself as part of the genealogy of the circus. The action as a whole confronts small-town life and vagrants. The titular hero appears as a traveling circus artist accompanied by a somnambulist medium who predicts the future for Caligari's paying customers. But the paths leading from the fairgrounds to Caligari are as tenuous as those leading (accord- ing to Siegfried Kracauer's simplified sociological reading) From Caligari to Hitler. In film and/or history, mass hysterias are, rather, the effect of massively used media technologies, which in turn have solid scientific foundation in theories of the unconscious. Caligari's wagon moves to- ward the motorcade of the Third Reich.
That is why Caligari's title of "Dr. " remains the vacuous presump- tion of a charlatan only in Carl Mayer's and Hans Janowitz's draft of the screenplay, a charlatan who misuses his medium Cesare as a remote- controlled murder weapon and who ends up in a straitjacket in an insane asylum once his ruse has been found out. The fairground is conquered by
? ? ? Film 147
an order whose disruptions not coincidentally have cost the lives of a mu- nicipal office worker and a youthful aesthete, two people, moreover, who are interested in books. As if screenplays as well had to defend script as their medium.
Following an idea of the great Fritz Lang,101 however, the completed film frames the action in a way that represents not only the transvalua- tion of all values but also their enigmatization. Citizens and mad people exchange their roles. In the framed story, the youthful hero kills Caligari and in the process underscores his bourgeois media love for female read- ers and books. In the framing story, he turns mad, and driven by his crazed love he stalks another person in the asylum, the alleged lover of the female reader. His private war against Caligari shrinks to the optical hallucination of a paranoid. As if the film attempted to uncover the pathology of a medium that entwined reading and loving but has abdi- cated its power to film. The madwoman simply does not register loving glances anymore.
Caligari, however (or, at any rate, a face that looks just like his), tow- ers above the insane asylum of the framing story as director and psychia- trist. No murder charges can prevail against his power to make a diagno- sis such as paranoia. Apparently, "while the original story exposed the madness inherent in authority," the eventual film "glorified authority" simply because it "convicted its antagonist of madness. "102 But Kracauer's attack against undefined authorities fails to take into account a psychiatry whose effects have produced new beings, not just Carl Mayer's biograph- ical experiences with German military psychiatrists during the war. 103
It is precisely this indistinguishability between framed and framing story, between insanity and psychiatry, that does justice to film technol- ogy. Nothing prevents the asylum director in the narrative frame to act si- multaneously as the mad Caligari. It is only that such ascriptions are communicated via the symbolic order of doctoral titles or the stories of patients, which are not part of the silent film. The identity between psy- chiatrist and murderer remains open-ended because it is offered to the eyes only and is not institutionalized by any word. A never-commented- upon similarity between faces renders all readings indistinguishable.
That is how faithfully Wiene's film follows cinematographically mod- ernized psychiatry. When professorial media technologists of the found- ing age conduct their experiments, they simultaneously play project di- rector and subject, murderer and victim, psychiatrist and madman, but storage technologies do not want to, and cannot, record this difference. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Stevenson's fictitious doppelganger pair of
148 Film
1 8 8 6, are only the pseudonyms of actual privy councilors. A gramophone records the words of Stransky, the psychiatrist, as a salad of syllables; a chronophotograph records the patriotic grimacing of Demeny. The situa- tion in Wiene's feature film is no different. Filmed psychiatrists go mad of necessity, especially if they, like the director of the asylum, declare an old book explicable in psychiatric as well as media-technological terms.
Somnambulism. A Compendium of the University of Uppsala. Pub- lished in the year I726: Thus reads the Fraktur-Iettered title of the book that the asylum director studies in order to learn everything about a his- torical "mystic, Dr. Caligari," and his "somnambulist by the name of Ce- sare. " Likewise, Charcot and his assistants studied dust-covered files on witches and the obsessed as they were transforming mysticism into a psy- chiatrically proper diagnosis of hysteria. lo4 The researchers of hypnosis, Dr. Freud and Dr. Caligari, are thus doppelgangers. lOS The one "found" the Oedipus complex for purposes of diagnosis and therapy initially "in my own case";106 the other, according to the film's subtitle, "under the domination of a hallucination" reads a sentence in white letters written on the walls of the asylum: "YOU MUST BECOME CALIGARI. " Charges that
"the director" must, for one, be mad and, second, "be Caligari" are to no avail, because modern experimenters say or do the same thing much more clearly-namely, immorally-than bourgeois heroes do. The similarity between psychiatrists and madmen, an enigma throughout the whole film, originates from research strategies and technologies.
The fact that an asylum director is directed by hallucinated writings to become Caligari in the framed story is simply a film trick. An actor plays both roles. With celluloid and cuts (the weapons of Dr. Wiene) Dr. Caligari or his official doppelganger emerges victorious.
It is only because of a life-size puppet that simulates Cesare sleeping in somnambulist stiffness that the title hero can provide his medium with protective alibis while executing nightly murders under the influence of hypnotic orders. The puppet deceives the bourgeois hero (as contempo- rary theories On the Psychology of the Uncanny predicted). 107 Prior to the introduction of stuntmen (and much to the dismay of aesthetes), films engaged in the "frequently used practice of replacing the artist with a puppet in particularly dangerous scenes. "108 Thus, Cesare is always al- ready a silent movie medium, and it is for this reason alone that he can be a somnambulistic and murderous medium. The photograph taken with a camera obscura (the cabinet in the title of the film itself) learns to move; the Iconographie photographique de la Salpetriere enters into Albert Londe's filming stage. As the mobilization of his puppet alibi, Cesare
Film I49
walks stiffly and with raised arms; he stumbles, tries to regain his balance, and finally rolls down a slope. Dr. Hennes describes in virtually identical terms the "accident hysteria" of his patient Johann L. , who is "6I years old" and a "workhorse" : "He walks in straddle-legged and stiff fashion, and often tilts as he turns around; moreover, he patters and walks in small steps; this gait is accompanied by grotesque ancillary movements of his arms, and is, in general, so bizarre that it appears artificially exagger- ated. " Nothing but indescribables, for which, however, "the cinemato- graphic image presented a very vivid illustration and supplement. " 109
And that-when bizarreness and artificial exaggeration originate in a hypnotic command-is above all when pathology and experiment co- incide once again. Cesare operates as the weapon of Caligari the artist. Psychiatrists constructed the first cruise missile systems, reusable systems to boot, long before cyberneticists did. With the serial murders of Cesare (and his numerous descendants in cinema), the seriality of film images enters plot itself. That is why his hypnosis hypnotizes moviegoers. In Wiene's pictures, they fall victim to a trompe l'oeil whose existence Lacan demonstrated through historical periods of painting: the incarnate look of a power that affected pictures long before it created them,l1O or that even produced that look as pictures. Yesterday the accident hysteric Johann L. , today Cesare, tomorrow movie fans themselves. With the somnambulism of his medium, Dr. Caligari already programs "the collective hypnosis" into which the "darkness of the theatre and the glow of the screen"111 transport an audience.
Film doppelgangers film filming itself. They demonstrate what happens to people who are in the line of fire of technological media. A motorized mirror image travels into the data banks of power.
Barbara La Marr, the subtitle heroine of a novel by Arnolt Bronnen with the cynical title Film and Life (I927), experienced it herself. She had just finished doing her first screen tests for Hollywood and was sitting next to the director Fitzmaurice in the darkened projection room while film buyers were examining her body.
Barbara suddenly got frightened. She stopped breathing. She clutched her chest; was her heart still beating; what happened on the screen? Something terrible stared at her, something strange, ugly, unknown; that wasn't she, that couldn't be she who stared at her, looked to the left, to the right, laughed, cried, walked, fell, who was that? The reel rolled, the projectionist switched on the light. Fitzmaurice looked at her.
"Well? " She regained her composure, smiled. "Oh. That is how angels up in
150 Film
heaven must look down upon us, the way I look in this picture. " Fitzmaurice dis- agreed laughingly: "I would never have thought of you as an angel. But that is not bad at all. In fact, just the opposite. Better than I thought. Much better. " But she got up, trembling, it erupted from within her, almost screaming: "totally bad," she screamed, "terrible, ghastly, mean, I am completely untalented, nothing will become of me, nothing, nothing! "112
Film transforms life into a form of trace detection, just as literature during Goethe's time transformed truth into an educational discipline. Media, however, are ruthless, while art glosses over. One does not have to be hypnotized, like the mad Cesare, to become strange, ugly, unknown, terrible, ghastly, mean, in brief, "nothing" on the screen. It happens to each and everyone, at least before the plots of feature films (following the logic of phantasms and the real) begin to obscure the undesirable. A pro- tagonist of one of Nabokov's novels goes to the movies with his girlfriend, unexpectedly sees his "doppelganger" (following his brief engagement as a movie extra months earlier), and feels "not only shame but also a sense of the fleeting evanescence of human life. "J13 Bronnen's title Film and Life hence repeats the classic line of the stick-up man, "Your money or your life ! " Whoever chooses money loses his life anyway; whoever chooses life without money will die shortly thereafter. ll4
The reason is technological: films anatomize the imaginary picture of the body that endows humans (in contrast to animals) with a borrowed I and, for that reason, remains their great love. Precisely because the cam- era operates as a perfect mirror, it liquidates the fund of stored self-images in La Marr's psychic apparatus. On celluloid all gesticulations appear more ridiculous, on tapes, which bypass the skeletal sound transmission from larynx to ear, voices have no timbre, on ID cards (according to Pyn- chon, of whom no photo exists) a "vaguely criminal face" appears, "its soul snatched by the government camera as the guillotine shutter fell. "115 And all that not because media are lying but because their trace detection undermines the mirror stage. That is to say: the soul itself, whose techno- logical rechristening is nothing but Lacan's mirror stage. In Bronnen's work, budding starlets must experience that, too.
Film is not for tender souls, Miss, . . . just like art in general. If you insist on showing your soul-which nobody else is interested in, by the way; we are far more interested in your body-you need to have a tough and hard-boiled soul; otherwise it won't work. But I don't think you will achieve any particularly great footage with your little indication of a soul. Let go of your soul without getting bent out of shape. I had to learn it myself, to let go of my inner self. Today I do films; back then I was poet. 116
Film 151
The true words of a deserter who has grasped the difference between media and the arts. Even the most poetic of words could not store bodies. The soul, the inner self, the individual: they all were only the effects of an illusion, neutralized through the hallucination of reading and widespread literacy. (Alphabetise, as Lacan put it. )117 When, in the last romantic com- edy, Buchner's King Peter of the kingdom of Popo searched for his son Leonce, who was at large, he put the police of the Archduchy of Hessia once more in an embarrassing situation. They could only go by "the 'wanted poster,' the description, the certificate" of a "person," "subject," "individual," "delinquent," and so on: "walks on two feet, has two arms, also a mouth, a nose, two eyes. Distinguishing features: a highly danger- ous individual. "118
That is how far literature went when it came to storing bodies-to the point of individual generality, but no further. Which is why literary doppelgangers, which began to show up in Goethe's time, appeared prin- cipally to readers. In Goethe, Novalis, Chamisso, Musset-the unspeci- fied warrant of the book's protagonist, whose appearance the texts leave open, always merged with the unspecified warrant of a reader, whom the texts addressed simply as a literate human being. 119
In 1 8 80, however, Alphonse Bertillon, chief of the Parisian Office of Identification, blesses the criminal police forces of the earth with his an- thropometric system: I I measurements of diverse body parts, all with a rather constant, lifelong length, are sufficient for an exact registration, since they already afford 177,147 possible combinations or individual- izations. Furthermore, the police archive documents the name, surname, pseudonym, age, as well as two photos (front and side). From which Moravagine, Cendrars's protagonist, deduces consequences for literature three days before the outbreak of war in 1914. He starts on a flight around the globe, naturally plans a film about himself, and chides the cameraman for not coming along:
I can understand your wanting to rest and get back to your books. . . . You always needed time to think about a whole pile of things, to look, to see, to compare and record, to take notes on the thousand things you haven't had a chance to classify in your own mind. But why don't you leave that to the police archives? Haven't you got it through your head that human thought is a thing of the past and that philosophy is worse than Bertillon's guide to harassed COpS? 120
When Bertillon's police archive and Charcot's iconography, those two complementary recording technologies, chop up the human being of phi- losophy into countless criminals and lunatics, what results are doppel-
152 Film
gangers on doppelgangers. And one only needs (as in Moravagine's case) to supplant still photographs with a combination of motorization and film to teach doppelgangers how to move. One no less than Mallarme already celebrated the view through a moving car as that of a camera on wheels;121 one no less than Schreber, during his relocation from the insane asylum at Coswig to the one at Sonnenstein, "mistakes" all the "human forms [that he] has seen on the drive and in the station in Dresden for miraculous 'fleeting men. "'l22 Traffic in the age of motorization always means encountering doppelgangers, schematically and serially.
The shapes that come to the surface these days out of the depths of mobile mirrors no longer have anything to do with literature and educa- tion. In 1 8 8 6, Professor Ernst Mach described how he had recently seen a stranger on a bus and had thought, "'what a shabby-looking school- master that is, who just got on. "'123 It took even the great theorist of per- ception a couple of practical milliseconds before he could identify that stranger as his own mirror image. And Freud, who recapitulates Mach's uncanny encounter in 19 19, can offer a traveling story of his own:
I was sitting alone in my wagon-lit compartment when a more than usually violent jolt of the train swung back the door of the adjoining washing cabinet, and an el- derly gentleman in a dressing-gown and a traveling cap came in. I assumed that in leaving the washing-cabinet, which lay between the two compartments, he had taken the wrong direction and come into my compartment by mistake. Jumping up with the intention of putting him right, I at once realized to my dismay that the intruder was nothing but my own reflection in the looking-glass on the open door. I can still recollect that I thoroughly disliked his appearance. Instead, therefore, of being frightened by our "doubles," both Mach and I simply failed to recognize them as such. Is it not possible, though, that our dislike of them was a vestigial trace of the archaic reaction which feels the "double" to be something uncanny? 124
The horror of starlets like Barbara La Marr affects theorists as well. At a hundred kilometers per hour, as soon as they participate in motorized traffic, everyday life necessarily becomes cinematic. From the cabinet of Dr. Freud emerges his other. In the archive of Bertillon or Charcot, profes- sors appear as dirty old men who remind even the father of psychoanaly- sis of his bodily functions. But the psychoanalysis of the uncanny does not touch upon modern technologies of trace detection with as much as a sin- gle word. Freud and Rank, in their hunt for the remainders of an archaic reaction, return mobile mirrors to stationary ones once again, turn cinema and railroad into the romantic world of books. The one deciphers the dop- pelganger in E. T. A. Hoffmann, the other, in Chamisso and Musset.
Tzvetan Todorov observes that "the themes of fantastic literature
Film 153
? Scheme for a doppelganger shot.
have literally become the very themes of the psychological investigations of the last fifty years. . . . We need merely mention that the double was even in Freud's time the theme of a classic study (Otto Rank's Der Dop- pelganger). "125 As a science of unconscious literalities, psychoanalysis in- deed liquidates phantoms such as the doppelganger, whom romantic read- ers once hallucinated between printed lines. In modern theory and litera- ture "words have gained an autonomy which things have lost. "126 But to ascribe the death of "the literature of the fantastic" solely to a "psycho- analysis" that has "replaced" it and thereby made it "useless"127 is Todorov's critical-theoretical blind spot. Writers know better that theo- ries and texts are variables dependent upon media technologies:
The writer of yesteryear employed "images" in order to have a "visual" effect. Today language rich in images has an antiquated effect.
And why is it that the im- age disappears from front-page articles, essays, and critiques the way it disappears from the walls of middle-class apartments? In my judgment: because with film we have developed a language that has evolved from visuality against which the vi- suality developed from language cannot compete. Finally, language becomes pure, clean, precise. 128
Only in the competition between media do the symbolic and the imaginary bifurcate. Freud translates the uncanny of the Romantic period into science, Melies, into mass entertainment. It is precisely this fantasiz- ing, anatomized by psychoanalysis, that film implements with powerful effect. This bilateral assault dispels doppelgangers from their books, which become devoid of pictures. On-screen, however, doppelgangers or their iterations celebrate the theory of the unconscious as the technology of cinematic cutting, and vice versa.
The doppelganger trick is nothing less than uncanny. Half of the lens is covered with a black diaphragm while the actor acts on the other half
154 Film
TheEiffelTowerfromOctober14, r888,toMarch3r,r889.
of the picture frame. Then, without changing the camera's position, the exposed film is rewound, the other half of the lens is covered up, and the same actor, now in his role as the doppelganger, acts on the opposite side of the frame. Put differently, Melies only had to record his stop trick onto the same roll of celluloid twice. "A trick applied with intelligence," he declared, "can make visible that which is supernatural, invented, or unreal. " 129
That is how the imaginary returned, more powerful than it could ever be in books, and as if made to order for writers of entertainment litera- ture. In 19 1 2, Heinz Ewers wrote: "I hate Thomas Alva Edison, because we owe to him one of the most ghastly of inventions: the phonograph! Yet I love him: he redeemed everything when he returned fantasy to the matter-of-fact world-in the movies ! " 130
These are sentences of media-technological precision: whereas the grooves of records store ghastly waste, the real of bodies, feature films take over all of the fantastic or the imaginary, which for a century has gone by the name of literature. Edison; or, the splitting of discourse into white noise and imagination, speech and dream (not to mention hatred and love). From then on neo-Romantic writers interested in love had it easy. One year later, Ewers wrote the screenplay for The Student of Prague by drawing on all of the book-doppelgangers in his library. ! 3! The film trick to end all film tricks (or, as a contemporary review put it, "the cinematic problem to end all cinematic problems")! 32 conquered the screen.
? ? ? The Student of Prague (Paul Wegener) next to his beloved (Grete Berger) and in front of his doppelganger, in a Jewish cemetery in Prague.
Ewers's Student, Gerhart Hauptmann's Phantom, Wiene's Caligari, Lindau's Anderer, Wegener's Golem: a doppelganger boom. Books (since Moses and Mohammed) have been writing writing; films are filming film- ing. Where art criticism demands expressionism or self-referentiality, me- dia have always been advertising themselves. Finally, motorists, train trav- elers, and professors, starlets and criminals, madmen and psychiatrists- they, too, recognized that camera angles are their everyday reality. Doppelganger films magnify the unconscious in mobile mirrors; they dou- ble doubling itself. The feature film transforms the "shock"133 of the mo- ment of recognition in Bronnen, Nabokov, Mach, and Freud into slow- motion trace detection: for 50 minutes, until his eventual disintegration and suicide, the student of Prague must see how the "horrifically un- changing apparition of the 'other'" sees him. 134 Notwithstanding Walter Bloem's The Soul of Cinema, cinema is what kills the soul. Precisely be- cause "humans" are not "worms, for whom something like" division or doubling "is a piece of cake, . . . the notion of a unified artistic personal- ity" disintegrates. Mimes become stars because human beings or civil ser-
Film 155
? 156 Film
vants have been made into guinea pigs. When executing the doppelganger trick, "mechanics becomes a coproducer. "135
On October II, 1893, The Other: A Play in Four Acts had its pre- miere in Munich. In 1906, Paul Lindau's horror play was published by the Reclam Universal Library only to land on the desks of the Royal Police Force in Munich, from whose copy I must of necessity quote. For on February IS, 1913, change overtook all libraries: The Other, consisting of " 2,000 meters" and "five acts," appeared as the first German auteur film. 136
"Men such as Paul Lindau," Gottfried Benn wrote, "have their mer- its and their immortality. "137 They are among the first to make the change from the pen to the typewriter and thus to produce texts suitable for film- ing (the script of The Student ofPrague was a typescript, toO). 138 They are among the first to make the change from the soul to mechanics and thus to produce subject matter suitable for film; that is, doppelgangers. With Lindau and Ewers, cinema in Germany becomes socially acceptable.
Except that Lindau's protagonist, Mr. HaIlers, J. D. , has not yet achieved wide cultural acceptance, for which poetic-filmic justice simply compensates him with a double. In order to abolish a superannuated civil-service ethos, HaIlers (just like Dr. Hyde or the student of Prague) must first become the other of the title. At the beginning, late at night, the prosecutor is in the process of dictating The Constraints of Willpower in Light ofCriminality to one of the last male secretaries, who takes it down in shorthand. Lacking Lindau's typewriter, he also lacks any knowledge of psychiatry. Hypnosis, suggestion, hysteria, the unconscious, split per- sonality-the civil servant wants to take out of circulation all of these terms, which have been in common usage "since Hippolyte Taine's study on the intellect. "139
Hallers (dictating).
Where would that eventually lead? It would lead to felons in every serious case quoting a physician to es- cape justice . . . to medicine being in stark contrast to justice. Let us be on guard against such insidious . . . (interrupting himself) no, change that to: against such highly disconcerting false teachings. (Short break. He walks behind the desk chair and gradually lapses un- thinkingly into the rhetorical tone of argumentation. ) Let u s not destroy the consciousness o f moral self-deter- mination, of the responsibility of the individual for his own actions, through the misconstrued practical appli- cation . . . (interrupting himself) How did I put it?
Film 157
Kleinchen (reads without emphasis). Let us not destroy the consciousness of moral self-determination, of the responsibility of the
Hailers (interrupting).
individual for his own actions . . .
Through the misconstrued practical application of an intelligent, if you will, but yet highly dubious deduc- tion . . . theoretical deduction. Let us eliminate, as far as possible, the " Constraints of Willpower" from our court proceedingsP40
A highly rhetorical performance, whose refutation begins with Freudian slips and fills all four acts. Hallers's slips alone refute his dicta- tion and his plaint, which turns into complete nonsense in its mechanical reproduction (the gramophone function of all secretaries, from Lindau to Valery). 141 Foucault would have described historical ruptures no less de- risively: justice ceding to medicine, law (with writing as the medium of civil service) ceding to biotechnologies that are media technologies as well. The same year, Senate President Schreber of the Regional Court of Appeals in Dresden disappears into an asylum simply because a "con- spiracy" of psychiatrists "denied" him (a lawyer) "professions, like that of a nerve specialist, that lead to a closer proximity to God. "142 Hence Hallers, too, breaks off his dictation, because "pathologically strained nerves"143 are in dire need of the "testimony of an available nerve spe- cialist and psychiatrist. "144
Professor Feldermann makes a nightly house call, cannot convince his patient of his split personality even by telling of classic case studies, and concludes that his "dull, gnawing headache" is attributable to Hallers's " fall from a horse . . . last fall. " 145 What must remain taboo in Light of Criminality becomes an epistemic matter of course in Guyau's "Memory and Phonograph": consciousness and memory are mutually exclusive. In the depths of his brain engrams, the disciple of free will is listening to the dictates of the unconscious.
That is how the inevitable comes about. What the consciousness of the lawyer denies, his body enacts. The other appears (as does, in Schre- ber's case, a female other: a "sexually dependent woman" who appears in the same position as the president of the senate). 146 Hallers falls asleep as a prosecutor only to wake up immediately as a criminal. His movements become "automaton-like,"147 "strained," "belabored and heavy, as if against his Will. "148 Consequently, the other is (as in Caligari's case) the same once again, but this time as a cinematographic guinea pig. "A bur- glar" 149 has possessed the civil servant / person and, consequently, plans
158 Film
to break in to Hallers's own villa together with some crooks from Berlin. For whereas the lawyer half of his split personality surmises darkly only that "I no longer am I am,"! 50 the criminal half proudly announces, in the unparalleled phrase of Yahweh, "I am . . . what I am. "! 5! As in all cases of split personality since Dr. Azam's Felida and Wagner's Kundry, uncon- scious knowledge overreaches conscious knowledge, not the other way round. ! 52 The other, with all of his complications, knows and steals from Hallers's villa, while the prosecutor (who returns as such after falling asleep a second time) only appears as an unintentional comedian when he interrogates his accomplice. It is not until he is confronted with Professor Feldermann's knowledge of psychiatry that he is brought up to par on contemporary developments and brought to his renunciation of all unre- strained willpower in the civil-service sector. A happy ending, not least because Hallers is rewarded with a bourgeois girl as well.
However, the exponential burglar, who invades both the personality and the villa of the lawyer, loves not the bourgeois girl but rather her maid (or stenotypist, had Lindau written a couple of years later), who was let go for disgraceful behavior. The civil-service domain of 1900 dreams, in terms criminal and erotic, male and female, of all its underbel- lies and doppelgangers. This dream, however, resides precisely in the mid- dle ground between film and anthropometries. The only indication that both sides of Hallers's double life are relayed is a photograph of the wait- ress Amalie. He receives the photograph as a criminal and finds it again, having changed back into the prosecutor, in his jacket pocket, at which point he can (following Bertillon) identify the woman he worships at night. But this photo materializes in the imaginary, even before the first transformation, during Feldermann's diagnosis.
Feldermann.
HaIlers . Feldermann.
HaIlers (reluctantly).
Feldermann. Hallers.
Are your dreaming at all? Ye s
Of what?
Of uncomfortable things. I feel as if my dreams ap- peared in a kind of sequence, as if I returned to the same haunts every once in a while.
What haunts are you talking about?
I can't recall the details. (More quietly. ) I always
see . . . something reddish . . . the gleam of a light . . .
? Feldermann. Hailers.
Film 159
something (pointing to the fireplace) like the embers in the fireplace . . . and, inside the reddish lighting (yet more quietly), the head of a woman . . .
The head of a woman.
It's always the same one . . . always a bit red . . . like a drawing with red chalk. . . . The face of the girl is also pursuing me while awake. . . . As soon as I try to visu- alize it in detail, it falls apart, I cannot put it
together. . . . If I should ever see her again, I will ask her for her picture.
Feldermann (turning toward him further and looking at him attentively).
Hailers . Feldermann.
What is it you are saying here?
It bothers me that the face with the red shine always hovers in front of me and that I cannot stabilize it.
I understand that. But I do not understand what you could be expecting of a photograph produced in your dreams of a dream image from your waking life. Is3
Film projection as internal theater exists two years prior to its intro- duction. Reason enough for Lindau, the writer, to forsake writing for cin- ema as quickly as possible. As with Freud or Rank, dreams are films and vice versa. One only has to have a nervous disorder like HaIlers's to trig- ger the shutter while dreaming instead of surrendering to the "shadowy, fleeting . . . scenes of the film drama" and making literature again, as does Rank. Madness is cinematographic not only in motoric and phys- iognomic terms; cinema implements its psychic mechanisms itself.
That was precisely Miinsterberg's insight. The Photoplay: A Psycho- logical Study, the slender, revolutionary, and forgotten theory of the fea- ture film, was published in New York in 19 16. While psychiatrists contin- ued to concentrate on pathologies of motion and psychoanalysts continued to consume films and retranslate them into books, the director of the Har- vard Psychological Laboratory went past consumption and usage. His American fame opened the New York studios to him; hence he could ar- gue both from the producer's standpoint and from the elementary level that relates film and the central nervous system. That is the whole difference be- tween Rank and Miinsterberg, psychoanalysis and psychotechnology.
Psychotechnology, a neologism coined by Miinsterberg, describes the
I 60 Film
science of the soul as an experimental setup. Basics ofPsychotechnology, published in I9I4, reframes in 700 pages the collected results of experi- mental psychology in terms of their feasibility. What began the pioneer- ing work of Wundt in Leipzig and what brought Miinsterberg to Cam- bridge, Massachusetts, was the insight (dispelling presumptions in elitist labs to the contrary) that everyday reality itself, from the workplace to leisure time, has long been a lab in its own right. Since the motor and sen- sory activities of so-called Man (hearing, speaking, reading, writing) have been measured under all conceivable extreme conditions, their ergonomic revolution is only a matter of course. The second industrial revolution en- ters the knowledge base. Psychotechnology relays psychology and media technology under the pretext that each psychic apparatus is also a tech- nological one, and vice versa. Miinsterberg made history with studies on assembly-line work, office data management, combat training.
Hence his theory was fully absorbed by the film studios (which had not yet migrated to Hollywood). From film technology and film tricks, knowledge only extracted what it had invested in the studies of optical il- lusions since Faraday.
That is how psychiatry-whose attention had lately been running on automatic pilot, that is, filmically-itself discovered Charcot's simple se- cret, long before Foucault ever did; namely, that every test produces what it allegedly only reproduces. According to Dr. Hennes, who is fearless about contradicting himself and could even describe the doctor's attention as a contraindication after recommending it a moment before, it is quite likely that there would be no madness without filming it:
How often does it happen to the professor that a patient fails during a lecture, that a manic suddenly changes his mood, a catatonic suddenly fails to perform his stereotyped movements. Although he executed his pathological movements with- out disturbance on the ward, the changed environment of the lecture hall has the effect of not letting him produce his peculiarities-so that he does not display precisely what the professor wanted him to demonstrate. Other patients show their interesting oddities "maliciously," only when there are no lectures, continu- ing education courses, and so on. Such occurrences, which are frequently dis- turbing to the clinical lecturer, are almost completely corrected by the cinemato- graph. The person doing the filming is in a position to wait calmly for the best possible moment to make the recording. Once the filming is done, the pictures are available for reproduction at any moment. Film is always "in the mood. " There are no failures. 98
That means that films are more real than reality and that their so- called reproductions are, in reality, productions. A psychiatry beefed up by media technologies, a psychiatry loaded with scientific presumptions, flips over into an entertainment industry. In view of the "rapid dissemi- nation of this invention and the unmatched popularity it has attained in
? such a short time,"99 Hennes advises his profession to create, "through collective participation and collaboration, a cinematographic archive analogous to the phonographic one. "lOO
Hence it is no wonder that the " great hysterical arc" disappears from nosology or the world shortly after its storage on film. Since there are "no failures" and mad people on film are "always 'in the mood,'" inmates of insane asylums can forgo their performances and withhold their "inter- esting oddities 'maliciously'" from all storage media. At the same time, psychiatrists no longer have to hunt for their ungrateful human demon- stration material. The only thing they have to do is shoot silent films, which as such (through the isolation of movements from the context of all speech) already envelop their stars in an aura of madness. To say noth- ing of the many possible film tricks that could chop up and reassemble these body movements, until the simulacrum of madness was perfect.
The age of media (not just since Turing's game of imitation) renders indistinguishable what is human and what is machine, who is mad and who is faking it. If cinematographers can "correct in an almost perfect way" disturbing occurrences of non-madness, they might as well film paid actors instead of asylum inmates. Although the historiography of film presumes a line of development from fairground entertainment to ex- pressionist film art, it is closer to the truth to speak of an elegant leap from experimental setups into an entertainment industry. Actors, that is, the doppelgangers of the psychiatrically engineered insane, visited the mOVle screen.
Certainly, Dr. Robert Wiene's Cabinet ofDr. Caligari ( 1920) seems to see cinema itself as part of the genealogy of the circus. The action as a whole confronts small-town life and vagrants. The titular hero appears as a traveling circus artist accompanied by a somnambulist medium who predicts the future for Caligari's paying customers. But the paths leading from the fairgrounds to Caligari are as tenuous as those leading (accord- ing to Siegfried Kracauer's simplified sociological reading) From Caligari to Hitler. In film and/or history, mass hysterias are, rather, the effect of massively used media technologies, which in turn have solid scientific foundation in theories of the unconscious. Caligari's wagon moves to- ward the motorcade of the Third Reich.
That is why Caligari's title of "Dr. " remains the vacuous presump- tion of a charlatan only in Carl Mayer's and Hans Janowitz's draft of the screenplay, a charlatan who misuses his medium Cesare as a remote- controlled murder weapon and who ends up in a straitjacket in an insane asylum once his ruse has been found out. The fairground is conquered by
? ? ? Film 147
an order whose disruptions not coincidentally have cost the lives of a mu- nicipal office worker and a youthful aesthete, two people, moreover, who are interested in books. As if screenplays as well had to defend script as their medium.
Following an idea of the great Fritz Lang,101 however, the completed film frames the action in a way that represents not only the transvalua- tion of all values but also their enigmatization. Citizens and mad people exchange their roles. In the framed story, the youthful hero kills Caligari and in the process underscores his bourgeois media love for female read- ers and books. In the framing story, he turns mad, and driven by his crazed love he stalks another person in the asylum, the alleged lover of the female reader. His private war against Caligari shrinks to the optical hallucination of a paranoid. As if the film attempted to uncover the pathology of a medium that entwined reading and loving but has abdi- cated its power to film. The madwoman simply does not register loving glances anymore.
Caligari, however (or, at any rate, a face that looks just like his), tow- ers above the insane asylum of the framing story as director and psychia- trist. No murder charges can prevail against his power to make a diagno- sis such as paranoia. Apparently, "while the original story exposed the madness inherent in authority," the eventual film "glorified authority" simply because it "convicted its antagonist of madness. "102 But Kracauer's attack against undefined authorities fails to take into account a psychiatry whose effects have produced new beings, not just Carl Mayer's biograph- ical experiences with German military psychiatrists during the war. 103
It is precisely this indistinguishability between framed and framing story, between insanity and psychiatry, that does justice to film technol- ogy. Nothing prevents the asylum director in the narrative frame to act si- multaneously as the mad Caligari. It is only that such ascriptions are communicated via the symbolic order of doctoral titles or the stories of patients, which are not part of the silent film. The identity between psy- chiatrist and murderer remains open-ended because it is offered to the eyes only and is not institutionalized by any word. A never-commented- upon similarity between faces renders all readings indistinguishable.
That is how faithfully Wiene's film follows cinematographically mod- ernized psychiatry. When professorial media technologists of the found- ing age conduct their experiments, they simultaneously play project di- rector and subject, murderer and victim, psychiatrist and madman, but storage technologies do not want to, and cannot, record this difference. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Stevenson's fictitious doppelganger pair of
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1 8 8 6, are only the pseudonyms of actual privy councilors. A gramophone records the words of Stransky, the psychiatrist, as a salad of syllables; a chronophotograph records the patriotic grimacing of Demeny. The situa- tion in Wiene's feature film is no different. Filmed psychiatrists go mad of necessity, especially if they, like the director of the asylum, declare an old book explicable in psychiatric as well as media-technological terms.
Somnambulism. A Compendium of the University of Uppsala. Pub- lished in the year I726: Thus reads the Fraktur-Iettered title of the book that the asylum director studies in order to learn everything about a his- torical "mystic, Dr. Caligari," and his "somnambulist by the name of Ce- sare. " Likewise, Charcot and his assistants studied dust-covered files on witches and the obsessed as they were transforming mysticism into a psy- chiatrically proper diagnosis of hysteria. lo4 The researchers of hypnosis, Dr. Freud and Dr. Caligari, are thus doppelgangers. lOS The one "found" the Oedipus complex for purposes of diagnosis and therapy initially "in my own case";106 the other, according to the film's subtitle, "under the domination of a hallucination" reads a sentence in white letters written on the walls of the asylum: "YOU MUST BECOME CALIGARI. " Charges that
"the director" must, for one, be mad and, second, "be Caligari" are to no avail, because modern experimenters say or do the same thing much more clearly-namely, immorally-than bourgeois heroes do. The similarity between psychiatrists and madmen, an enigma throughout the whole film, originates from research strategies and technologies.
The fact that an asylum director is directed by hallucinated writings to become Caligari in the framed story is simply a film trick. An actor plays both roles. With celluloid and cuts (the weapons of Dr. Wiene) Dr. Caligari or his official doppelganger emerges victorious.
It is only because of a life-size puppet that simulates Cesare sleeping in somnambulist stiffness that the title hero can provide his medium with protective alibis while executing nightly murders under the influence of hypnotic orders. The puppet deceives the bourgeois hero (as contempo- rary theories On the Psychology of the Uncanny predicted). 107 Prior to the introduction of stuntmen (and much to the dismay of aesthetes), films engaged in the "frequently used practice of replacing the artist with a puppet in particularly dangerous scenes. "108 Thus, Cesare is always al- ready a silent movie medium, and it is for this reason alone that he can be a somnambulistic and murderous medium. The photograph taken with a camera obscura (the cabinet in the title of the film itself) learns to move; the Iconographie photographique de la Salpetriere enters into Albert Londe's filming stage. As the mobilization of his puppet alibi, Cesare
Film I49
walks stiffly and with raised arms; he stumbles, tries to regain his balance, and finally rolls down a slope. Dr. Hennes describes in virtually identical terms the "accident hysteria" of his patient Johann L. , who is "6I years old" and a "workhorse" : "He walks in straddle-legged and stiff fashion, and often tilts as he turns around; moreover, he patters and walks in small steps; this gait is accompanied by grotesque ancillary movements of his arms, and is, in general, so bizarre that it appears artificially exagger- ated. " Nothing but indescribables, for which, however, "the cinemato- graphic image presented a very vivid illustration and supplement. " 109
And that-when bizarreness and artificial exaggeration originate in a hypnotic command-is above all when pathology and experiment co- incide once again. Cesare operates as the weapon of Caligari the artist. Psychiatrists constructed the first cruise missile systems, reusable systems to boot, long before cyberneticists did. With the serial murders of Cesare (and his numerous descendants in cinema), the seriality of film images enters plot itself. That is why his hypnosis hypnotizes moviegoers. In Wiene's pictures, they fall victim to a trompe l'oeil whose existence Lacan demonstrated through historical periods of painting: the incarnate look of a power that affected pictures long before it created them,l1O or that even produced that look as pictures. Yesterday the accident hysteric Johann L. , today Cesare, tomorrow movie fans themselves. With the somnambulism of his medium, Dr. Caligari already programs "the collective hypnosis" into which the "darkness of the theatre and the glow of the screen"111 transport an audience.
Film doppelgangers film filming itself. They demonstrate what happens to people who are in the line of fire of technological media. A motorized mirror image travels into the data banks of power.
Barbara La Marr, the subtitle heroine of a novel by Arnolt Bronnen with the cynical title Film and Life (I927), experienced it herself. She had just finished doing her first screen tests for Hollywood and was sitting next to the director Fitzmaurice in the darkened projection room while film buyers were examining her body.
Barbara suddenly got frightened. She stopped breathing. She clutched her chest; was her heart still beating; what happened on the screen? Something terrible stared at her, something strange, ugly, unknown; that wasn't she, that couldn't be she who stared at her, looked to the left, to the right, laughed, cried, walked, fell, who was that? The reel rolled, the projectionist switched on the light. Fitzmaurice looked at her.
"Well? " She regained her composure, smiled. "Oh. That is how angels up in
150 Film
heaven must look down upon us, the way I look in this picture. " Fitzmaurice dis- agreed laughingly: "I would never have thought of you as an angel. But that is not bad at all. In fact, just the opposite. Better than I thought. Much better. " But she got up, trembling, it erupted from within her, almost screaming: "totally bad," she screamed, "terrible, ghastly, mean, I am completely untalented, nothing will become of me, nothing, nothing! "112
Film transforms life into a form of trace detection, just as literature during Goethe's time transformed truth into an educational discipline. Media, however, are ruthless, while art glosses over. One does not have to be hypnotized, like the mad Cesare, to become strange, ugly, unknown, terrible, ghastly, mean, in brief, "nothing" on the screen. It happens to each and everyone, at least before the plots of feature films (following the logic of phantasms and the real) begin to obscure the undesirable. A pro- tagonist of one of Nabokov's novels goes to the movies with his girlfriend, unexpectedly sees his "doppelganger" (following his brief engagement as a movie extra months earlier), and feels "not only shame but also a sense of the fleeting evanescence of human life. "J13 Bronnen's title Film and Life hence repeats the classic line of the stick-up man, "Your money or your life ! " Whoever chooses money loses his life anyway; whoever chooses life without money will die shortly thereafter. ll4
The reason is technological: films anatomize the imaginary picture of the body that endows humans (in contrast to animals) with a borrowed I and, for that reason, remains their great love. Precisely because the cam- era operates as a perfect mirror, it liquidates the fund of stored self-images in La Marr's psychic apparatus. On celluloid all gesticulations appear more ridiculous, on tapes, which bypass the skeletal sound transmission from larynx to ear, voices have no timbre, on ID cards (according to Pyn- chon, of whom no photo exists) a "vaguely criminal face" appears, "its soul snatched by the government camera as the guillotine shutter fell. "115 And all that not because media are lying but because their trace detection undermines the mirror stage. That is to say: the soul itself, whose techno- logical rechristening is nothing but Lacan's mirror stage. In Bronnen's work, budding starlets must experience that, too.
Film is not for tender souls, Miss, . . . just like art in general. If you insist on showing your soul-which nobody else is interested in, by the way; we are far more interested in your body-you need to have a tough and hard-boiled soul; otherwise it won't work. But I don't think you will achieve any particularly great footage with your little indication of a soul. Let go of your soul without getting bent out of shape. I had to learn it myself, to let go of my inner self. Today I do films; back then I was poet. 116
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The true words of a deserter who has grasped the difference between media and the arts. Even the most poetic of words could not store bodies. The soul, the inner self, the individual: they all were only the effects of an illusion, neutralized through the hallucination of reading and widespread literacy. (Alphabetise, as Lacan put it. )117 When, in the last romantic com- edy, Buchner's King Peter of the kingdom of Popo searched for his son Leonce, who was at large, he put the police of the Archduchy of Hessia once more in an embarrassing situation. They could only go by "the 'wanted poster,' the description, the certificate" of a "person," "subject," "individual," "delinquent," and so on: "walks on two feet, has two arms, also a mouth, a nose, two eyes. Distinguishing features: a highly danger- ous individual. "118
That is how far literature went when it came to storing bodies-to the point of individual generality, but no further. Which is why literary doppelgangers, which began to show up in Goethe's time, appeared prin- cipally to readers. In Goethe, Novalis, Chamisso, Musset-the unspeci- fied warrant of the book's protagonist, whose appearance the texts leave open, always merged with the unspecified warrant of a reader, whom the texts addressed simply as a literate human being. 119
In 1 8 80, however, Alphonse Bertillon, chief of the Parisian Office of Identification, blesses the criminal police forces of the earth with his an- thropometric system: I I measurements of diverse body parts, all with a rather constant, lifelong length, are sufficient for an exact registration, since they already afford 177,147 possible combinations or individual- izations. Furthermore, the police archive documents the name, surname, pseudonym, age, as well as two photos (front and side). From which Moravagine, Cendrars's protagonist, deduces consequences for literature three days before the outbreak of war in 1914. He starts on a flight around the globe, naturally plans a film about himself, and chides the cameraman for not coming along:
I can understand your wanting to rest and get back to your books. . . . You always needed time to think about a whole pile of things, to look, to see, to compare and record, to take notes on the thousand things you haven't had a chance to classify in your own mind. But why don't you leave that to the police archives? Haven't you got it through your head that human thought is a thing of the past and that philosophy is worse than Bertillon's guide to harassed COpS? 120
When Bertillon's police archive and Charcot's iconography, those two complementary recording technologies, chop up the human being of phi- losophy into countless criminals and lunatics, what results are doppel-
152 Film
gangers on doppelgangers. And one only needs (as in Moravagine's case) to supplant still photographs with a combination of motorization and film to teach doppelgangers how to move. One no less than Mallarme already celebrated the view through a moving car as that of a camera on wheels;121 one no less than Schreber, during his relocation from the insane asylum at Coswig to the one at Sonnenstein, "mistakes" all the "human forms [that he] has seen on the drive and in the station in Dresden for miraculous 'fleeting men. "'l22 Traffic in the age of motorization always means encountering doppelgangers, schematically and serially.
The shapes that come to the surface these days out of the depths of mobile mirrors no longer have anything to do with literature and educa- tion. In 1 8 8 6, Professor Ernst Mach described how he had recently seen a stranger on a bus and had thought, "'what a shabby-looking school- master that is, who just got on. "'123 It took even the great theorist of per- ception a couple of practical milliseconds before he could identify that stranger as his own mirror image. And Freud, who recapitulates Mach's uncanny encounter in 19 19, can offer a traveling story of his own:
I was sitting alone in my wagon-lit compartment when a more than usually violent jolt of the train swung back the door of the adjoining washing cabinet, and an el- derly gentleman in a dressing-gown and a traveling cap came in. I assumed that in leaving the washing-cabinet, which lay between the two compartments, he had taken the wrong direction and come into my compartment by mistake. Jumping up with the intention of putting him right, I at once realized to my dismay that the intruder was nothing but my own reflection in the looking-glass on the open door. I can still recollect that I thoroughly disliked his appearance. Instead, therefore, of being frightened by our "doubles," both Mach and I simply failed to recognize them as such. Is it not possible, though, that our dislike of them was a vestigial trace of the archaic reaction which feels the "double" to be something uncanny? 124
The horror of starlets like Barbara La Marr affects theorists as well. At a hundred kilometers per hour, as soon as they participate in motorized traffic, everyday life necessarily becomes cinematic. From the cabinet of Dr. Freud emerges his other. In the archive of Bertillon or Charcot, profes- sors appear as dirty old men who remind even the father of psychoanaly- sis of his bodily functions. But the psychoanalysis of the uncanny does not touch upon modern technologies of trace detection with as much as a sin- gle word. Freud and Rank, in their hunt for the remainders of an archaic reaction, return mobile mirrors to stationary ones once again, turn cinema and railroad into the romantic world of books. The one deciphers the dop- pelganger in E. T. A. Hoffmann, the other, in Chamisso and Musset.
Tzvetan Todorov observes that "the themes of fantastic literature
Film 153
? Scheme for a doppelganger shot.
have literally become the very themes of the psychological investigations of the last fifty years. . . . We need merely mention that the double was even in Freud's time the theme of a classic study (Otto Rank's Der Dop- pelganger). "125 As a science of unconscious literalities, psychoanalysis in- deed liquidates phantoms such as the doppelganger, whom romantic read- ers once hallucinated between printed lines. In modern theory and litera- ture "words have gained an autonomy which things have lost. "126 But to ascribe the death of "the literature of the fantastic" solely to a "psycho- analysis" that has "replaced" it and thereby made it "useless"127 is Todorov's critical-theoretical blind spot. Writers know better that theo- ries and texts are variables dependent upon media technologies:
The writer of yesteryear employed "images" in order to have a "visual" effect. Today language rich in images has an antiquated effect.
And why is it that the im- age disappears from front-page articles, essays, and critiques the way it disappears from the walls of middle-class apartments? In my judgment: because with film we have developed a language that has evolved from visuality against which the vi- suality developed from language cannot compete. Finally, language becomes pure, clean, precise. 128
Only in the competition between media do the symbolic and the imaginary bifurcate. Freud translates the uncanny of the Romantic period into science, Melies, into mass entertainment. It is precisely this fantasiz- ing, anatomized by psychoanalysis, that film implements with powerful effect. This bilateral assault dispels doppelgangers from their books, which become devoid of pictures. On-screen, however, doppelgangers or their iterations celebrate the theory of the unconscious as the technology of cinematic cutting, and vice versa.
The doppelganger trick is nothing less than uncanny. Half of the lens is covered with a black diaphragm while the actor acts on the other half
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TheEiffelTowerfromOctober14, r888,toMarch3r,r889.
of the picture frame. Then, without changing the camera's position, the exposed film is rewound, the other half of the lens is covered up, and the same actor, now in his role as the doppelganger, acts on the opposite side of the frame. Put differently, Melies only had to record his stop trick onto the same roll of celluloid twice. "A trick applied with intelligence," he declared, "can make visible that which is supernatural, invented, or unreal. " 129
That is how the imaginary returned, more powerful than it could ever be in books, and as if made to order for writers of entertainment litera- ture. In 19 1 2, Heinz Ewers wrote: "I hate Thomas Alva Edison, because we owe to him one of the most ghastly of inventions: the phonograph! Yet I love him: he redeemed everything when he returned fantasy to the matter-of-fact world-in the movies ! " 130
These are sentences of media-technological precision: whereas the grooves of records store ghastly waste, the real of bodies, feature films take over all of the fantastic or the imaginary, which for a century has gone by the name of literature. Edison; or, the splitting of discourse into white noise and imagination, speech and dream (not to mention hatred and love). From then on neo-Romantic writers interested in love had it easy. One year later, Ewers wrote the screenplay for The Student of Prague by drawing on all of the book-doppelgangers in his library. ! 3! The film trick to end all film tricks (or, as a contemporary review put it, "the cinematic problem to end all cinematic problems")! 32 conquered the screen.
? ? ? The Student of Prague (Paul Wegener) next to his beloved (Grete Berger) and in front of his doppelganger, in a Jewish cemetery in Prague.
Ewers's Student, Gerhart Hauptmann's Phantom, Wiene's Caligari, Lindau's Anderer, Wegener's Golem: a doppelganger boom. Books (since Moses and Mohammed) have been writing writing; films are filming film- ing. Where art criticism demands expressionism or self-referentiality, me- dia have always been advertising themselves. Finally, motorists, train trav- elers, and professors, starlets and criminals, madmen and psychiatrists- they, too, recognized that camera angles are their everyday reality. Doppelganger films magnify the unconscious in mobile mirrors; they dou- ble doubling itself. The feature film transforms the "shock"133 of the mo- ment of recognition in Bronnen, Nabokov, Mach, and Freud into slow- motion trace detection: for 50 minutes, until his eventual disintegration and suicide, the student of Prague must see how the "horrifically un- changing apparition of the 'other'" sees him. 134 Notwithstanding Walter Bloem's The Soul of Cinema, cinema is what kills the soul. Precisely be- cause "humans" are not "worms, for whom something like" division or doubling "is a piece of cake, . . . the notion of a unified artistic personal- ity" disintegrates. Mimes become stars because human beings or civil ser-
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vants have been made into guinea pigs. When executing the doppelganger trick, "mechanics becomes a coproducer. "135
On October II, 1893, The Other: A Play in Four Acts had its pre- miere in Munich. In 1906, Paul Lindau's horror play was published by the Reclam Universal Library only to land on the desks of the Royal Police Force in Munich, from whose copy I must of necessity quote. For on February IS, 1913, change overtook all libraries: The Other, consisting of " 2,000 meters" and "five acts," appeared as the first German auteur film. 136
"Men such as Paul Lindau," Gottfried Benn wrote, "have their mer- its and their immortality. "137 They are among the first to make the change from the pen to the typewriter and thus to produce texts suitable for film- ing (the script of The Student ofPrague was a typescript, toO). 138 They are among the first to make the change from the soul to mechanics and thus to produce subject matter suitable for film; that is, doppelgangers. With Lindau and Ewers, cinema in Germany becomes socially acceptable.
Except that Lindau's protagonist, Mr. HaIlers, J. D. , has not yet achieved wide cultural acceptance, for which poetic-filmic justice simply compensates him with a double. In order to abolish a superannuated civil-service ethos, HaIlers (just like Dr. Hyde or the student of Prague) must first become the other of the title. At the beginning, late at night, the prosecutor is in the process of dictating The Constraints of Willpower in Light ofCriminality to one of the last male secretaries, who takes it down in shorthand. Lacking Lindau's typewriter, he also lacks any knowledge of psychiatry. Hypnosis, suggestion, hysteria, the unconscious, split per- sonality-the civil servant wants to take out of circulation all of these terms, which have been in common usage "since Hippolyte Taine's study on the intellect. "139
Hallers (dictating).
Where would that eventually lead? It would lead to felons in every serious case quoting a physician to es- cape justice . . . to medicine being in stark contrast to justice. Let us be on guard against such insidious . . . (interrupting himself) no, change that to: against such highly disconcerting false teachings. (Short break. He walks behind the desk chair and gradually lapses un- thinkingly into the rhetorical tone of argumentation. ) Let u s not destroy the consciousness o f moral self-deter- mination, of the responsibility of the individual for his own actions, through the misconstrued practical appli- cation . . . (interrupting himself) How did I put it?
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Kleinchen (reads without emphasis). Let us not destroy the consciousness of moral self-determination, of the responsibility of the
Hailers (interrupting).
individual for his own actions . . .
Through the misconstrued practical application of an intelligent, if you will, but yet highly dubious deduc- tion . . . theoretical deduction. Let us eliminate, as far as possible, the " Constraints of Willpower" from our court proceedingsP40
A highly rhetorical performance, whose refutation begins with Freudian slips and fills all four acts. Hallers's slips alone refute his dicta- tion and his plaint, which turns into complete nonsense in its mechanical reproduction (the gramophone function of all secretaries, from Lindau to Valery). 141 Foucault would have described historical ruptures no less de- risively: justice ceding to medicine, law (with writing as the medium of civil service) ceding to biotechnologies that are media technologies as well. The same year, Senate President Schreber of the Regional Court of Appeals in Dresden disappears into an asylum simply because a "con- spiracy" of psychiatrists "denied" him (a lawyer) "professions, like that of a nerve specialist, that lead to a closer proximity to God. "142 Hence Hallers, too, breaks off his dictation, because "pathologically strained nerves"143 are in dire need of the "testimony of an available nerve spe- cialist and psychiatrist. "144
Professor Feldermann makes a nightly house call, cannot convince his patient of his split personality even by telling of classic case studies, and concludes that his "dull, gnawing headache" is attributable to Hallers's " fall from a horse . . . last fall. " 145 What must remain taboo in Light of Criminality becomes an epistemic matter of course in Guyau's "Memory and Phonograph": consciousness and memory are mutually exclusive. In the depths of his brain engrams, the disciple of free will is listening to the dictates of the unconscious.
That is how the inevitable comes about. What the consciousness of the lawyer denies, his body enacts. The other appears (as does, in Schre- ber's case, a female other: a "sexually dependent woman" who appears in the same position as the president of the senate). 146 Hallers falls asleep as a prosecutor only to wake up immediately as a criminal. His movements become "automaton-like,"147 "strained," "belabored and heavy, as if against his Will. "148 Consequently, the other is (as in Caligari's case) the same once again, but this time as a cinematographic guinea pig. "A bur- glar" 149 has possessed the civil servant / person and, consequently, plans
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to break in to Hallers's own villa together with some crooks from Berlin. For whereas the lawyer half of his split personality surmises darkly only that "I no longer am I am,"! 50 the criminal half proudly announces, in the unparalleled phrase of Yahweh, "I am . . . what I am. "! 5! As in all cases of split personality since Dr. Azam's Felida and Wagner's Kundry, uncon- scious knowledge overreaches conscious knowledge, not the other way round. ! 52 The other, with all of his complications, knows and steals from Hallers's villa, while the prosecutor (who returns as such after falling asleep a second time) only appears as an unintentional comedian when he interrogates his accomplice. It is not until he is confronted with Professor Feldermann's knowledge of psychiatry that he is brought up to par on contemporary developments and brought to his renunciation of all unre- strained willpower in the civil-service sector. A happy ending, not least because Hallers is rewarded with a bourgeois girl as well.
However, the exponential burglar, who invades both the personality and the villa of the lawyer, loves not the bourgeois girl but rather her maid (or stenotypist, had Lindau written a couple of years later), who was let go for disgraceful behavior. The civil-service domain of 1900 dreams, in terms criminal and erotic, male and female, of all its underbel- lies and doppelgangers. This dream, however, resides precisely in the mid- dle ground between film and anthropometries. The only indication that both sides of Hallers's double life are relayed is a photograph of the wait- ress Amalie. He receives the photograph as a criminal and finds it again, having changed back into the prosecutor, in his jacket pocket, at which point he can (following Bertillon) identify the woman he worships at night. But this photo materializes in the imaginary, even before the first transformation, during Feldermann's diagnosis.
Feldermann.
HaIlers . Feldermann.
HaIlers (reluctantly).
Feldermann. Hallers.
Are your dreaming at all? Ye s
Of what?
Of uncomfortable things. I feel as if my dreams ap- peared in a kind of sequence, as if I returned to the same haunts every once in a while.
What haunts are you talking about?
I can't recall the details. (More quietly. ) I always
see . . . something reddish . . . the gleam of a light . . .
? Feldermann. Hailers.
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something (pointing to the fireplace) like the embers in the fireplace . . . and, inside the reddish lighting (yet more quietly), the head of a woman . . .
The head of a woman.
It's always the same one . . . always a bit red . . . like a drawing with red chalk. . . . The face of the girl is also pursuing me while awake. . . . As soon as I try to visu- alize it in detail, it falls apart, I cannot put it
together. . . . If I should ever see her again, I will ask her for her picture.
Feldermann (turning toward him further and looking at him attentively).
Hailers . Feldermann.
What is it you are saying here?
It bothers me that the face with the red shine always hovers in front of me and that I cannot stabilize it.
I understand that. But I do not understand what you could be expecting of a photograph produced in your dreams of a dream image from your waking life. Is3
Film projection as internal theater exists two years prior to its intro- duction. Reason enough for Lindau, the writer, to forsake writing for cin- ema as quickly as possible. As with Freud or Rank, dreams are films and vice versa. One only has to have a nervous disorder like HaIlers's to trig- ger the shutter while dreaming instead of surrendering to the "shadowy, fleeting . . . scenes of the film drama" and making literature again, as does Rank. Madness is cinematographic not only in motoric and phys- iognomic terms; cinema implements its psychic mechanisms itself.
That was precisely Miinsterberg's insight. The Photoplay: A Psycho- logical Study, the slender, revolutionary, and forgotten theory of the fea- ture film, was published in New York in 19 16. While psychiatrists contin- ued to concentrate on pathologies of motion and psychoanalysts continued to consume films and retranslate them into books, the director of the Har- vard Psychological Laboratory went past consumption and usage. His American fame opened the New York studios to him; hence he could ar- gue both from the producer's standpoint and from the elementary level that relates film and the central nervous system. That is the whole difference be- tween Rank and Miinsterberg, psychoanalysis and psychotechnology.
Psychotechnology, a neologism coined by Miinsterberg, describes the
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science of the soul as an experimental setup. Basics ofPsychotechnology, published in I9I4, reframes in 700 pages the collected results of experi- mental psychology in terms of their feasibility. What began the pioneer- ing work of Wundt in Leipzig and what brought Miinsterberg to Cam- bridge, Massachusetts, was the insight (dispelling presumptions in elitist labs to the contrary) that everyday reality itself, from the workplace to leisure time, has long been a lab in its own right. Since the motor and sen- sory activities of so-called Man (hearing, speaking, reading, writing) have been measured under all conceivable extreme conditions, their ergonomic revolution is only a matter of course. The second industrial revolution en- ters the knowledge base. Psychotechnology relays psychology and media technology under the pretext that each psychic apparatus is also a tech- nological one, and vice versa. Miinsterberg made history with studies on assembly-line work, office data management, combat training.
Hence his theory was fully absorbed by the film studios (which had not yet migrated to Hollywood). From film technology and film tricks, knowledge only extracted what it had invested in the studies of optical il- lusions since Faraday.
