The Keep (1983)

"Where am I from? I am... from you."

My job at the library involves maintaining a website, and can be a whole lot of copying and pasting. I enjoy having Netflix playing in the background to keep my mind from disintegrating. It gives me a chance to try out some things that I would likely never choose to devote my whole attention to, and quite frequently it turns out to be a gem. Such was the case with The Keep. It kept popping up as a recommended film. The insistence of the recommendation pushed me to a state of intrigue and annoyance, so I IMDb'ed the damn thing. Holy hell! Directed by Michael Mann (Last of the Mohicans, Heat) whose work I find to be regularly excellent and engaging. Starring Scott Glenn, Ian McKellen, Jurgen Prochnow and Gabriel Byrne. Music by Tangerine Dream. And the plot? Nazis guarding a citadel must make an alliance with a Jewish scholar to stop the supernatural slaughter of their soldiers. I'm so in.


It really didn't help the first viewing of this film that I was not watching it, but rather listening to it while working. I've always enjoyed Mann's painterly eye for expansive, deep focus shots filled with detail and rich color. That, coupled with his talent for pairing visuals with powerful music (think of his seminal TV show Miami Vice), should have made me give my full attention to the film from the outset. As it turned out, even the mild the opening montage with tanks and other armored vehicles approaching the keep with the techno-pop music in the background kept me switching over from writing code to seeing what I was missing. That's not to say that I understood what was going on once I gave it my full attention but more on that later.


Jurgen Prochnow is Captain Klauss Woermann, the commander of this contingent, and we'll find that he largely appears to be a dedicated army man, but not so much of a fervent party member. He arrives in the keep, and receives a tour from Alexandru, a provincial who speaks enigmatically on the origin and purpose of the citadel. Woermann observes that the place is built backwards, with the larger stones on the inside and the smaller ones outside. It is built to contain something, not keep something out.There are 108 nickel crosses embedded in the walls, and don't you know it if the Nazi soldiers get to work almost immediately on prying them out for plunder. Prying out the biggest cross opens up an antechamber, which you know is not a treasure chest.


And they find the giant cavernous interior of the keep. And awaken what it was built to contain. And it promptly feasts on them. This transgression also awakens Glaeken Trismegestos (Scott Glenn). He knows immediately what has happened, and begins to travel to the keep with his important box. Then we get a full 60 second shot of watching his hired boat chug along on it's way. It's one of the moments that happen often in this film that are well-shot and quite lovely (as the boat travels across the screen, we see the dawn begin to glow pinkly along the horizon), but it does a disservice by slowing down the narrative. I get it. We're a-sailing. I suspect it is included because timing that shot with the dawn is a work of art. Another thing, if Glaeken is the counterpart to whatever is in the Keep, why is he thousands of miles away? Probably best not to think too much about it.

Seven years later...

Meanwhile, Nazis are dropping like flies at the Keep and Woermann is frustrated. So is the High Command, who suspects partisan activity from the villagers is responsible for the deaths, and so sends a group of Einsatzkommandos (the SS) to clear up the nonsense. They are lead by Gabriel Byrne as Major Kaempffer. With his cool blue stare and strong nose, decked out in the sharp black uniform and riding into the village in an armored vehicle, he is intimidating and cruel. Very cruel. To the horror of the villagers and Woermann, some village men are promptly thrown up against a wall and executed. We see how Woermann and Kaempffer are two very different military officers, and what sense of morality and duty mean to them will serve as a source of conflict. (And a lot of talking).

Major Kaempffer

More deaths follow, and a bit of vandalism. Someone has written on the wall in Romanian.  But the villagers, even under threat from Kaempffer, cannot read them. But the village priest knows who can: Dr. Theodore Cuza (Ian McKellen). As a Jew, he is in a camp. The SS will bring him to keep, posthaste.
Dr. Cuza and his daughter Eva (Alberta Watson) arrive and are brought to the graffiti. Cuza can read it just fine, it says: "I will be free." Clearly a partisan message. Or is it? The dialect is 500 years old. Cuza is intrigued, but more concerned with using this opportunity for Eva to escape. It is unlikely he can join her, as he suffers from a severe case of scleroderma and is wheelchair bound. Eva goes to get them some food, and is soon set upon by soldiers out for a bit of rapine. The Nazis are unlucky, as the being (now with a bit more substance) stops the rape and kills the soldiers. The creature (whose name is Radu Molosar, but we never hear this until the end of the film) brings Eva to the Cuza's room in the keep. The music here is quite striking and a little strange. It is a majestic, choir driven piece that does not imply Molosar is a scary, monstrous, evil thing. But rather an incredible, wondrous being of great power. This implies to me that though he is responsible for the slaying of the Nazis, perhaps on the spectrum of "bad guys," he really isn't the worst. Or is he?

Cloud form Molosar

Cuza knows that this otherworldly thing is the cause of death in the keep, and is enraged when Molosar calls him a collaborator. (As an aside, I simply adore any opportunity to watch Ian McKellen bellow at things. Let us not forget man is also Gandalf and Magneto. Swoon). After this brief discussion, Molosar effectively "zaps" Cuza into unconsciousness. When he awakes, his scleroderma is gone. A miracle! This creature must be good, right? Per Eva, not so much. But this is a great opportunity for Cuza. Being clever, he reads Kaempffer and his arrogance well. By demanding that Eva not be removed from the keep, he effectively makes sure that she is removed. He tells her how this is her chance to escape, to start a life, to forget about him and live. They also argue about Molosar. Eva is afraid of it, Cuza refers to him as "a hammer, we can use to smash them [the Nazis]". That the devil in the keep is not the creature, but the Nazis and SS. Woermann arrives to move Eva out. Woermann and Cuza have a brief conversation about Cuza's dead son. Woermann is touched by the death, and so Cuza gifts him a silver cross. From one humane man to another, he says. So they throw Eva out of the keep and into the local tavern. In the room the hotelier offers her is Glaeken, staring out the window at the keep. There is a brief, odd argument wherein it is decided that they will share the room. After a two sentence conversation on top of a hill, we are treated to a shirtless Scott Glenn love scene. Now I'm not complaining, because they music is lovely and the scene is infused with a warm orange sunset light and nekkid Scott Glenn, but how is it that a woman freshly away from the concentration camps, nearly raped by Nazis, and then cloud-rescued by an ancient evil ghoul just up and does it on the floor with a stranger? Must've been the purple eyes and that no reflection in a mirror thing. 




----- SPOILERS BELOW ------


Cuza has had some time to get used to his newly rejuvenated body, the relief of Eva being out of the keep, and the reality of Molosar. This is when Molosar returns for their next conversation. It plays out like an exercise in subtle manipulation and recruitment on the part of Molosar. Cuza is anxious to help Molosar, and agrees to assist him escape the keep in return for the destruction of the Nazis. It is a tidy arrangement. It is also my favorite physical state of Molosar, as seen below. A modern movie would have made him totally a CGI creation, and thereby destroyed any sense of physicality and realness to Molosar's presence (a common complaint of mine in regards to modern horror cinema). 

Nazis: they do a body good!

Cuza visits Eva at the Inn, flush with excitement about his plans with Molosar. They are interrupted by Glaeken, who much to Cuza's consternation, explains that Molosar is the same kind of evil. Cuza is angry, and fears that his daughter's new boyfriend will prevent the emancipation of Molosar. So he rats Glaeken out to Kaempffer. As Glaeken is escorted out of the inn (by the indespensible German character actor Wolf Kahler who you'll remember from Raiders of the Lost Ark), of course he gets shot all to hell and starts bleeding a rather viscous looking green goo (like the stuff inside of those glowy sticks). 


Captain Woermann and Major Kaempffer get into another heated, verbose, philosophical argument. Prochnow is to be commended for his ability to make a lovely worded argument whilst shouting enough to induce vein engorgement. In rebuttal, Major Kaempffer shoots the Captain dead. He grabs Cuza's cross and stumbles out to the yard where it is a crematorium of soldiers and equipment. Now he finally realizes that the charming townsfolk were not responsible for the carnage, and he meets the one who is: Molosar.

Fully formed  Molosar

Now we see his full form, having consumed the life energy of every jackboot about. Major extends Cuza's cross, which momentarily halts Molosar's approach. Some confidence regained, Major arrogantly demands of Molosar "what are you? where do you come from?" Molosar's answer is chilling: "where am I from? I am... from you." He then plucks the cross from Major hand, and crushes it in his fist. Thanks Ted, that cross did a lot of good. Now there is no one left to stop Cuza from taking the talisman out of the keep. The sequence of Cuza striding powerfully through the keep with the talisman, and the 108 crosses glowing in repsonse to its proximity with the soaring score is my favorite of the film. I've rewound and watched it several times. A still is below.

My favorite sequence. Cuza with the talisman.

Meanwhile, Glaeken is revived and returns to his room to retrieve the item in his box, a powersword. Cuza and Eva argue about the talisman, that it really belongs to Glaeken and that Molosar might not be such a super guy after all. Molosar demands that Cuza kill Eva, or else he will return him to his diseased state and slay both of them. Ted finally gets it. He (bellowing again, yay!) demands that Molosar prove himself by taking the talisman out himself. Zap! The scleroderma is back, and Molosar bears down on Eva and Cuza. And here is Glaeken, attaching the talisman to his powersword and blasting Molosar back into the keep. Sadly for Glaeken, as he is metaphysically tied to Molosar, he is consumed by the keep as well. Eva and Cuza are free to try to escape. And like that, it's over.

I've read of an alternate ending, sort of like Terry Gilliam's Brazil in that "love never dies." Glaeken falls for a long time in the keep, and finally awakes next to some water. He sees his reflection, and we are meant to understand that he is now mortal. Eva comes to him, and they can be together. I would have rather liked that coda for the film. Not because I'm sentimental, but instead it would not have been as abrupt as the ending I saw.

Glaeken's other powersword, winkwink

Analysis: 

We're in Romania. In a region that has a long tradition of vampire lore. Molosar gains physical form and strength by draining the life energy of victims. He also seems to feed on fear, hatred, and violence that grows in the village due partially to his influence and to that of the Einsatzkommandos. He is contained within a structure that has nickel or silver crosses embedded in it's walls. Is Molosar a vampire? A vampire is preternatural being commonly believed to be a reanimated corpse. My dictionary pegs vampire as a Serb-Croatian word dating from around 1725. It all works. Kind of. Molosar doesn't drink blood from sleeping victims. He is not the reanimated form of a dead human being. Cuza's metal cross has no deleterious effect on him. So, not really a vampire.
My inclination in the taxonomy of Molosar is no less supernatural. He is a golem. In Jewish folklore, a golem is a creature made of inanimate material, constructed and blessed by a Rabbi and brought to life with magic for the purpose of protecting Jews and their community. But this doesn't quite capture Molosar either. However, he appears to project himself as a golem in order to ally himself with Dr. Cuza. Molosar from the outset identifies the Nazi soldiers as his captors. And if he needs human help, who best to recruit than a person who clearly hates them forcefully. Molosar rescues Eva from the rape, a protective act. He claims he does not need an ally, and goes to accuse Cuza of being a collaborator. Which Cuza rather hotly denies. This is a good interrogator/interviewer tactic. I suspect Molosar makes this accusation not because his disgust compels him to label Cuza as a collaborator, but rather to gauge Cuza's reaction and as such make of the measure of Cuza as a tool for Molosar's emancipation. Cuza passes the mental test, but not the physical. No problem, the sclerderoma is easily cured. Cuza is hooked, but Eva is wary. And here, easily overlooked, Eva warns her father that they are dealing with "a golem, a devil." But Cuza sees Molosar as dangerous only to his enemies, the Nazis, and instead is Molosar's collaborator.
Consider Molosar's verbiage at the second meeting with Cuza. When he learns of the death camps, he roars "my people are murdered?!" And he vows to destroy the soldiers in black and their leader in Berlin, if... Cuza removes a certain talisman from the keep and protects it. We learn that the talisman really belongs to Glaeken, that Cuza is being manipulated because he is uncorruptable and thus able to approach the talisman. So is he a vampire or a golem? A bit of both, and neither. I can't speak to the novel and what Molosar's nature and genesis is within, but in the film it is a bit muddy. In my first viewing I was a little confused and frustrated as to what Molosar was and what the hell was really going on. I blamed Mann for lacking focus (he wrote the screenplay as well as directed). But on reflection, it is my fault for trying to impose too much on the film. It is supposed to be a bit weird, and dream-like and diffuse. This is because the film is so stylized, specially with it's score working powerfully as an expository, emotive character on its own. This is a dream of a fairy-tale. And it is a lovely, weird, chilling dream. And like dreams, its very cool but doesn't really make a lot of sense. But dreams don't have to. This quality won't make it very commercially or critically successful, but it is good.


Imperative viewing?


Yes. Don't worry too much about the fuzzy mythology or it not really making a ton of sense. Instead, enjoy it as a gorgeous aural and visual experience.