Henrik Galeen’s daunting remake of Hanns Heinz Ewers’s tale of a Faustian doppelganger based upon Edgar Allan Poe’s “William Wilson” is, to date, the definite version of the narrative due to the director’s knowledge, appreciation, and implementation of German Expressionism and Conrad Veidt’s signature performance, which stands second only to his famed role of Cesare the Somnambulist in Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.

Balduin (Conrad Veidt), a poor student in 1820’s Germany, becomes infatuated with a Countess named Margit (Agnes Esterhazy) while ignoring the adulations of the more humble Liduschka (Elizza La Porta). However, when the Countless refuses to acknowledge Balduin, Scapinelli (Werner Krauss) mysteriously appears, offering the student 600,000 gold pieces in exchange for one item in Balduin’s sparse apartment. At first apprehensive, after a quick overview of his destitute surroundings, Balduin agrees. Scapinelli then removes Balduin’s mirror image.

Galeen penned the script for Nosferatu and co-wrote The Golem (as well as co-directed the 1915 version of the tale), the latter of which would serve as the catalyst for James Whale’s Frankenstein. As such, could we expect anything less from one of the earliest and greatest gothic artists of the 20th century in that Galeen visually matches, frame-for-frame, the intrigue prompted by his ingenious premise, a Faustian variant replete with a Jerkyll and Hyde twist via Edgar Allan Poe. Not only does Galeen challenge us with a scathing commentary upon human desire by presenting the id devoid of any moral constraint, but he sends chills down our spines as we watch as Galeen’s Mephistopheles character collects his due as Balduin’s reflection is called forth from a mirror before it serves its originator’s his comeuppance by the film’s stunningly honest, unrepentant, yet pitch-perfect, finale which pits Balduin’s animalistic urge against his socially groomed ethos which beckons, not only for psychological examination, but demands philosophical as well as sociological readings as well.

Undoubtedly overshadowed by F.W. Murnau’s own rendition of Faust released the same year (granted, Werner Krauss is no Gösta Ekman in his Faustian personage, yet the latter plays the literal character in his respective role whereas the former assumes a more contemporary variant upon the diabolical figure), Student of Prague remains criminally overlooked (even by genre aficionados) in lieu of the fact that Henrik Galeen’s undervalued silent psychological and philosophical terror is a hallmark of German Expressionism.

-Egregious Gurnow