Notes From The Style Subculture Archives: Color Me Goth, Punk, & Film Noir

Doesn't the title of this post make you throw up in your mouth a little?

Or maybe it's just me. I'm poking fun at that trope of academic writing in which, like, every title must have a semi-colon and, like, enough jargon-y words to stuff a dead cat, kind of like this sentence. Disclaimer: I love academics, and I'd give them all a hug if I could! (I figure the best way to disclaim involves promising hugs by proxy.)

But I'm serious about the topic! I think someone should write about the connection between horror films, film noir, and goth and punk music. Someone not very qualified, but with a passionate interest in all of these things, like me!

As a caveat, I'll say right off the bat that I'm not a fan of horror films. But I really love silent horror films from the '20s. An all-time favorite of mine is The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari,  which was made in 1920 and is technically a work of German Expressionism, not film noir. But I think it has film noir elements to it (which I'm claiming as a complete non-expert.)

Still from The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, 1920

I, along with my friend Heather (whose Internet presence will remain a mystery, sorry, Gen Y-ers) are both huge silent film nerds. We're also aware that this love of silent film is the height of snobbery and pretension, so we have this joke that "talking pictures" are vulgar and that spoken dialogue is overkill.

Funny, huh? I know, friend jokes aren't really translateable, but I tried. Back to business: The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a German film about this creepy guy, Dr. Caligari, who performs at carnivals along with his assistant, a sombambulist named Cesare.

Dr. Caligari is an eerie reflection on dreams and reality. It's also a pretty impressive and enduring film. So much so that the image of Cesare was considered cool enough to be used by '80s gothic rock band Bauhaus for some band T-shirts. These bad-ass shirts feature the character Cesare with the title of Bauhaus' single "Bela Lugosi's Dead." It's kind of a bizarre mash-up, but I'm into it:

 

 Holiday gift idea, anyone?

 I'd be happier than a kid in a GameStop store if I owned this shirt. I'd probably wear it everyday, and I'd never wash it. I'm surprisingly low-key slash barbaric when it comes to beloved fashion items.

Anyways, here's what all the suspense has been building up to: for your enjoyment, a 1964 trailer of the circa-1920 film (confusing, I know):

 

And, in case you need more evidence of why this film is so amazing: Check out how intricate the set is, how distorted, moody, creepy, and insiduous:

I can't be sure of their inspiration, but I'm definitely getting a Dr. Caligari vibe from the music video for rock band Siouxise and the Banshees' "Happy House." All those distorted angles in the set, Siouxsie Sioux's costume, and of course the band's genre oozes a silent horror film aesthetic:

And below is my ill-advised attempt to channel this vibe:

 

I say ill-advised because I had way too much fun scrounging up pieces in my wardrobe that evoked gothic/silent film horror, and I'm not sure how successful I was at it. 

But I'm kind of a pro at the makeup, so I must've been a silent film waif in another life.

So, now that we're at the end of things: I must acknowledge that gothic rock is sort of a hilarious music genre because it takes overdone and ostentatious literary and film genres like horror and gothic very seriously. Having said that, I'm hopelessly in love with gothic rock and the film genre that inspired it.

And maybe you are too, or you found a way to enjoy this post despite a blithering hatred of Bauhaus, or something (really?). If you enjoyed any of this (and I'm sure hoping you did), I also recommend that you check out the films of Fritz Lang for some chillingly fantastic times.