Explanations concerning information on the reproduced filmstrips (to be read from right to left, as they would appear under a magnifying glass when rewound):
My adventure with the four-part serial Die Jagd nach dem Tode, directed by Karl Gerhardt for Decla-Bioskop in 1920 and 1921, began like most pleasant episodes in one's life begin: by chance. I had never heard of the film, nor of its director, when Stiftung Deutsche Kinemathek in Berlin contacted me during the summer of 1991, and asked me to look at 21 reels of film that had just come in from Gosfilmofond. When projected for the selection committee of the 1992 Berlin Film Festival retrospective celebrating the 80th anniversary of the Babelsberg studios), the film immediately presented something of a puzzle.Attracted by some spectacular stills in their collection, the Kinemathek found that the film had survived at Gosfilmofond in Moscow, and requested a copy for viewing. From the labels on the cans, they expected a viewing copy of a film that had not been seen since its first release. In fact things proved to be even more exciting, as one saw the film unwind at the screening. We knew immediately that this wasn't simply a viewing copy, but rather a print from a safety duplicate negative that must have been produced from the original nitrate negative reels. The negative therefore preserved the most beautiful picture quality, but with no continuity whatsoever. The disjoined narrative was constantly disrupted by pieces of leader with unreadable scribble.
What should one do with a find like this? In its original state the film was definitely not fit for projection in front of an audience, however curious and friendly. On the other hand, temptation was great to try to restore a film so unexpectedly rediscovered. Gosfilmofond stated that this "viewing copy" was all they had, but they would not mind if we would like to try to put the film back in correct order. To be on the safe side, the Kinemathek asked Helmut Regel of the Bundesarchiv of Koblenz for cooperation in making a duplicate negative before anything else was done to the film. Then I began to follow the scribbled clues that I had seen zip by in projection without knowing what they meant. That unreadable scribble made me suspect that the solution to the problem of continuity was inscribed into the film itself, and that careful reading of all those little numbers, annotations, and instructions should enable one to put things right.
From veterans of the trade I had heard how the process of conforming the negative had been considerably different in the silent days from what we are used to today. At least until automatic developing and copying machines became widely available in the mid-twenties, negatives were not cut to "mirror" the editing of the finished film, as they do now, when labs more or less print up what the negative cutter hands over to them. In the world before automated film processing, every single positive copy of a film had to be carefully ordered and spliced together from bits and pieces that were drawn from several large negative reels. These negative reels were assembled not in the chronology of shots, but in an order determined by technical necessity. For instance, shots were assembled on a negative reel by criteria of what colour they should appear in later, so that everything designated to be, say, tinted blue ended up on a blue reel, to be processed accordingly. Other criteria for mounting the large negative reels included gamma at which reel was to be developed, and printing lights (exposure level).
It was the job of the hundreds of splicing girls employed by labs in those days to assemble the segments grouped on the large negative reels in the correct order for the release print. What happened if they didn't, is shown to comic effect in the hilarious film Wenn die Filmkleberin Gebummelt Hat (When the splicing girl got sloppy), made by an unknown director in 1925, which also happens to be in the Kinemathek's collection. To enable these young ladies to do their difficult work, the scenes on the large negative reels had to be marked in a way that would indicate where to cut and insert scenes from the various reels, instruct how to intertwine cross-cut sequences in different colours, and so forth. This is the scribble that I found on the pieces of leader and many single-frame annotations within shots in Die Jagd nach dem Tode.
After deciphering all that was written into the film, what I did was nothing other than what a splicing girl would have done 70 years ago - rewinding the film frame-by-frame, shot by shot, carefully watching out for a little number to appear for a cut, or a little cue-word for a title to be spliced in.
Once I had got into the system, I was surprised how easy it was to work. Some problems occurred at first, because not all numbers and annotations had survived the printing at Gosfilmofond. As labs so often do, Gosfilmofond had changed the length of reels, and had replaced the original leaders containing helpful information with their own standard leaders. In this way, about a third of the original instructions were lost, but I managed to fill in the gaps by drawing conclusions from the scenes I could clearly identify.
This is why I want to stress to all readers the enormous importance of original leaders, which bear useful information. Unfortunately, the value of these clues on the leaders may not always be recognised by archive staff, let alone zealous lab workers who want to improve the element by replacing the old leader with a modern, standard leader. Many mysteries in film history might have been solved by reading what's written on the leader. For that matter, the same is true of the information in the perforation area, which is also too often neglected (although modern printing images and margins with the same good quality). It should be standard practice to copy everything we find on the film, even if it seems to be random numbers on a torn piece of leader!
After a few weeks of rewinding and deciphering, I cut and reassembled the film according to the instructions I found. To my delight (and relief) what had looked like 5.000 meters of an interesting, but completely indecipherable motion picture resolved itself into a story that made sense. But not a single intertitle could be found. I knew where the titles should be placed from additional written information on the film which indicated the frame where each title had to be cut in, and gave a one or two words clue as to the title's contents. Censorship cards for the film could not be found (German censorship cards usually give the wording of the titles), thus the wording for all titles had to be recreated from clues in the film and old publicity material published when the film was first released. Fortunately, the person who created the synopsis in 1920 included a lot of dialogue and description which appeared to match the one or two words I had on the frames for the respective titles. Also, some critics quoted the titles in their articles on the film. I even hired a lip-reader to find out what actors said in particular scenes, but this was not of much help as there is usually a cut for the title as soon as the actors open their mouths to speak.
The cutting copy of Die Jagd nach dem Tode was ready one day before the film was scheduled to be shown as a special event in the Babelsberg-retrospective at the Berlin Film Festival in February 1992. The film was now about 6.751 meters in total length (more than five hours in viewing time at 18 frames per second), divided into four separate parts, as in the winter season of 1920/21, when it was released as a serial, showing one part a week.
One railroad engineer MacAllan (played by Nils Chrisander, a Swedish actor and director, who was employed as "artistic director" of the Babelsberg studios at the time) involves himself in seemingly never-ending adventures taking place between Tibet and Calcutta. He falls in love with the Indian dancer and prostitute Malatti (Lil Dagover), and this affair wrecks his professional life. To end his troubles, he contracts his Tibetan valet (Bernhard Goetzke) to kill him at an unknown time and place, and hands over his life insurance policy to be cashed in return for this service. Of course, MacAllan changes his mind about sudden death shortly after the deal is struck, and has to survive numerous adventures to get back the fatal piece of paper before he can happily be wed to the director of the life insurance Company at the end of part four.
The film summarises all the sensations (gorgeous sets showing oriental architecture, thousands of extras dressed in exotic costumes) which had been introduced to German audiences by Joe May in his monumental epics Die Herrin der Welt and Veritas Vincit. These elements of popular cinema were shortly afterwards taken on by May's disciple Fritz Lang who transformed them into his own world of specific obsessions. In Die Jagd nach dem Tode all these things appear, but they are not employed to be meaningful in a specific narrative structure or ideological scheme. They are just there, trying to attract an audience that probably didn't care too much about whatever structures a film might have anyway.
The only thing that seems to be specific to this film is the notion of paranoia. Unlike other adventure films, the leading character in Die Jagd nach dem Tode is a strangely passive one, haunted by one fatal coincidence after the other, never trying too hard to fight them off. Perhaps the audience could identify with this character, having experienced the First World War as a similarly fateful blow coming out of the wonderful blue sky of the pre-war Kaiser Reich.
So far, hardly anything is known about Karl Gerhardt, the director of the film.
Preliminary research of CineGraph located him in the Vienna theatre scene, as an acquaintance of Mia and Joe May. He seems to have followed them to Hamburg, and then to Berlin, where the name of Karl Gerhardt begins to appear more regularly in credits for films produced by Joe May, primarily as a director of some "Joe-Deebs" detective serials, and as director of part 7 of the monumental Die Herrin der Welt. Later, he directed films for Decla-Bioskop and Pheobus-Film, probably also popular genre-films, as far as one can guess the titles such as Die Augen der Maske, or Das Blut der Ahnen. In some early sound films, around 1930, Karl Gerhardt can be seen playing small parts, being directed by Gustav Ucicky, Joe May, and Richard Oswald. I found a picture of him in the "Filmführer" of 1928 (a yearbook mainly advertising actors¹ faces); it shows a rather massive elderly man with white hair, who is at least in his fifties. As far as we know, Die Jagd nach dem Tode is the biggest production he ever got his hands on.
The lab of the Bundesarchiv in Berlin-Wilhelmshagen carefully duped the cutting copy with an astoundingly brilliant result, thus the first dupe negative made in Koblenz did not have to be cut. This means that there are now two negatives for this film: one in the "right" order, as one would prepare it today, and one in the "original" order, as it was in 1920. Whoever wishes to correct the restoration can check the original and start from scratch.
As far as the preservation is concerned, the adventure is far from being over. Having become ambitious, Kinemathek and Bundesarchiv have embarked on the joint venture of reconstructing the colours of the film, as indicated in the scribbled notes at the beginning of every scene or sequence. Examples of the respective tints could be found in other films held by the Bundesarchiv, and the colour printing is scheduled for the spring of 1994.
Die Jagd nach dem Tode is now available for non-commercial screenings through the Stiftung Deutsche Kinemathek in Berlin, with wonderful prints made at the Wilhelmshagen facility.
Die Jagd nach dem Tode (serial in four parts)
Production: Decla-Bioskop AG, Berlin, 1920/21; producer: Rudolf Meinert; director: Karl Gerhardt; script: Robert Wiene & Johannes Brandt (Pt 1 & 2), Robert Liebmann, (Pt 3 & 4); photography: Paul Holzki; set design: Hermann Warm; cast: Nils Chrisander, Lil Dagover, Isa Marsen, Renée Pélar, Kurt Brenkendorf, Bernhard Goetzke, Paul Rehkopf, Ernst Deutsch, Robert Scholz, Maria Forescu, Paul Hansen, Rudolf Hilberg.
Length of reconstructed version: 6.751 meters. Original length (according to Gerhardt Lamprecht): 7.279 meters.
by Martin Koerber
L'aventure de la reconstitution de Die Jagd nach dem Tode, réalisée pour la Decla-Bioscop par Karl Gerhard en 1920-21, commença, comme le raconte Martin Koerber, par ce que l'on appelle un coup de chance.
En 1991, la Stiftung Deutsche Kinemathek reçut 21 bobines du Gosfilmofond dans le but de les projeter au Festival de Berlin 1992 à l'occasion des 80 ans des studios Babelsberg.
Ce qu'on croyait être une copie de visionnement était en fait (et pour le bonheur des "archéologues du cinéma") un Dup safety, tiré du négatif original, des scènes du film (qui avait la structure d'une série à quatre parties). Les scènes se trouvaient dans le désordre mais l'image était restituée dans toute sa splendeur originale.
Dans un premier temps, le Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv fit tirer un Dup négatif de cette copie. Puis vint la reconstitution. Celle-ci fut rendue possible grâce aux inscriptions figurant sur les amorces (et qui étaient en fait des instructions destinées aux monteuses de l'époque). Une fois ces inscriptions déchiffrées, il s'agissait de faire exactement ce qu'auraient fait les monteuses il y a 70 ans: suivre les instructions au pied de la lettre.
Malgré le fait qu'une partie des inscriptions n'avaient pas été copiées, Die Jagd nach dem Tode a pu être reconstitué en grande partie (6.751 mètres sur les 7.279 que, selon Lamprecht, aurait eu la série).
Disposant de moyens importants, aux décors somptueux et utilisant des figurations multitudinaires, Die Jagd nach dem Tode constitue un cas représentatif de ce qui était une superproduction à l'époque.
Une première conclusion d'ordre pratique peut être tirée de ce passionnant exercice: il est recommandé de tirer le matériel qui ferait l'objet d'une reconstitution dans son intégralité car on ne sait jamais trop à quoi peuvent bien servir les mystérieuses inscriptions figurant sur les amorces...
Par ailleurs, la Stiftung Deutsche Kinemathek et la Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv informent que quiconque souhaiterait contribuer à la poursuite de la reconstitution, est le bienvenu. Les deux institutions se lancent à présent dans la reconstitution des couleurs du film.
Reconstitución de la película de Karl Gerhard.
La aventura de la reconstitución de Die Jagd nach dem Tode, dirigida para Decla-Bioscop por Karl Gerhard en 1920-21, comenzó, como lo relata Martin Koerber, por lo que se da en llamar la suerte.
En 1991, la Stiftung Deutsche Kinemathek recibió 21 bobinas de Gosfilmofond destinadas a ser mostradas en el Festival de Berlín de 1992 para conmemorar los 80 años de la fundación de los estudios de Babelsberg.
Lo que en un principio se creyó una copia de circulación resultó ser (para el júbilo de los "arqueólogos" del cine) un Dup safety positivo, copiado a partir del negativo original, de la película. Las escenas (se trataba de una serie en cuatro partes) se encontraban en el desorden pero la imagen era restituida con todo su esplendor original.
Para comenzar, el Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv hizo procesar un Dup negativo de la copia recibida. Luego, se procedió a la reconstitución que fué facilitada por las inscripciones (originalmente destinadas a las montadoras de la época) que figuraban en las guías. Una vez las inscripciones descifradas, se trataba de hacer exáctamente lo que hubieran hecho las montadoras 70 años atrás: seguir las instrucciones al pié de la letra.
A pesar de que faltara parte de las inscripciones (debido a que no habían sido copiadas), Die Jagd nach dem Tode ha podido ser reconstituida (6'751 metros sobre los 7'279 que, según Lamprecht, habría tenido la serie original).
Terminada un día antes de su fecha de programación, Die Jagd nach dem Tode fué proyectada en Berlín a una cadencia de 18 imágenes por segundo (en una función de unas cinco horas de duración).
Beneficiando de medios financieros importantes, de suntuosas escenografías y de multitudinarias huestes de figurantes, Die Jagd nach dem Tode constituye un ejemplo representativo de lo que era una superproducción de la época.
De este apasionante ejercicio se desprende una primera conclusión de órden práctico: se recomienda siempre la duplicación de la integralidad del material destinado a una reconstitución ya que nunca se sabe a qué pueden servir las misteriosas inscripciones que pudieran figurar en las guías...
Por otra parte, la Stiftung Deutsche Kinemathek y el Bundesarchiv-Filmarchiv invitan a quiénes lo deseen a participar a los próximos pasos de la reconstitución de la serie. Las dos instituciones se lanzan ahora a reconstruir los colores de Die Jagd nach dem Tode.