Rutmann’s 'Symphony of a Great City' captures everyday life in the city of Berlin (that is tracing the city and its people from morning, to peak hour, to work, holiday and nightlife). What is made most explicit by each of these segments is that Berlin is a city in constant motion, a city where mobility is the key to its ultimate functioning. Just as the word ‘Symphony’ implies an orchestra or an ensemble of various parts that interact with one another to produce or create a ‘whole’, the film characterises Berlin city as ‘Symphonic’ by nature in that what is produced is an aesthetic experience conveyed through the dynamic expression of the city in motion; revealing the interaction of parts of the city that make up a ‘whole’.
One could suggest upon viewing Rutmann’s film that it is a portrayal of how life changed with the industrial revolution where perhaps the most poignant and or central motif is that of the train. In fact, the opening railway scene can be viewed as an ‘organising image’ with the image of the train as being an omnipresent image of modernity. The railway here can be regarded as a concise image of the impact of modernist technology on the individual body and consciousness, whereby the traditional ways of life have been replaced by uncontrollable change and effectively creates ‘shock’ upon the senses. This is visually communicated or produced by Rutmann through employment of a frenetic editing sequence which collates images of trains and captures their movement as they rush past and toward the viewer.
Another important observation of the film is that it is highly melancholic in nature, and in this, the issue of self-estrangement and consequently the figure of the 'flaneur' becomes highly pervasive. In the film, buildings often appear to engulf the images of people that are usually overlooked or dwarfed. What becomes evident is that the cityscape is void of people and if anything, machines appear to have more autonomy (as is evidenced by the factory sequence where machines fill the film frame and people are most frequently disembodied e.g. with only their hands in focus). As we reach the Peak hour sequence however the urban crowd becomes more prevalent and it is here we can suggest that the camera begins to embody the persona of the ‘flaneur’ (an aimless wanderer). This is because the camera appears to make no attempt to embody the crowd and retains a detached position from what’s essentially ‘going on’. This is most evident during the peak hour sequence, where we are confronted with the continuous flow of bodies and the random nature of images. Within this scene there is no particular subject of interest, rather a random confrontation of fleeting images that have no particular connection other than being apart of the ‘everyday’. In this light, the city conduces alienation and the closest one could get, to obtain a private experience of the city, is to enter the urban landscape perhaps in the most advantageous position of the flaneur who has the ability to experience the city at its most transitory. Through such sequences, we can begin to see that the film is preoccupied with modernity and urban spaces, and it is here that the urban angles and the urban crowd become a subject of importance.
Lights, camera, action! The spectacle that is 'Piccadilly' unfolds from the outset of the film, as viewers are thrown into the hub of London and are immersed in the experience of the cinematic city which is marked by the constant flow of bodies and traffic, the transitory, ephemeral signs, bright neon lights and the intensity of the entertainment district. Furthermore, as the film progresses we begin to see how each setting and character are ultimately being showcased for their theatrical and or cinematic qualities (e.g. as we move from the Piccadilly club which is introduced by an upbeat dance sequence, to the chaotic kitchen and the dancing scullery maid, to backstage melodrama, to the ladies dressing rooms, to the Limehouse district and so on).
As each element appears to be on show, what is produced and ultimately conveyed throughout the course of the film is an existing tension between private and public space. For instance, we can view the ladies cloak room scene as being representative of a kind of quasi-private space that is full of motility (a space described by bodies moving around). Public and private tension is also communicated through Gilda Gray’s character Mabel who maintains a highly theatrical presence throughout, which is made evident by her costumes which make her appear as if on stage at all times and always being in the public’s view or in the eye of the spectator. The confusion between private and public realms is even highlighted by the characters themselves whom appear confused by signage. For example people begin to question if Piccadilly is a club, dialog through inter-titles is as follows “Do clubs have electric signs? Of course it isn’t a club… they call it a club and so everybody wants to come into it”. It is here we have an instance where signage appears to break desire creating a confusion between private and public space, of which can be regarded as stemming from the realization that they are within a crowd yet still apart of something which is desirably exclusive.
Another aspect of the film that i found particularly interesting is Anna May Wong’s character Shosho, and her appeal as a cinematic subject. Although acting is most often ‘non-naturalistic’ within these silent films (e.g. evident during dance scenes or in the cloak room where viewers are confronted with bodies that move mechanically and appear ‘ornamental’ by nature), one can suggest that Anna Mai Wong’s character ‘Shosho’ challenges such an idea. This is perhaps most expressed within the kitchen dance scene. It is here that the film reaches its most intense moment, where it no longer presents images of multiple bodies (as seen in e.g. the cloak room which is a space described by bodies moving around and bodies replicated through mirroring), but a singular, subjective presence is introduced and characters become individualised. The camera further explicates this subjective nature as it follows or traces Shosho’s fluid and delicate body movements, and pans around the room to reveal other individuals whom appear fixated or almost in a trance by her dancing. Furthermore, the camera and the film’s audio shows a deep oriental affection with her character which is highlighted by a change in music which can be identified as being Asian or oriental in nature.
Rutmann’s 'Symphony of a Great City' captures everyday life in the city of Berlin (that is tracing the city and its people from morning, to peak hour, to work, holiday and nightlife). What is made most explicit by each of these segments is that Berlin is a city in constant motion, a city where mobility is the key to its ultimate functioning. Just as the word ‘Symphony’ implies an orchestra or an ensemble of various parts that interact with one another to produce or create a ‘whole’, the film characterises Berlin city as ‘Symphonic’ by nature in that what is produced is an aesthetic experience conveyed through the dynamic expression of the city in motion; revealing the interaction of parts of the city that make up a ‘whole’.
