
1928 · Paul Leni
For when you want to feel something big — a candlelit, curl-up-and-be-swept-away melodrama, and a perfect first silent film for the curious. Expect a lump in your throat, not a fright.
England, 1690. When a proud noble defies the despotic King James, he is executed and his young son is surgically disfigured — his face carved into a permanent grin. Raised as a sideshow attraction, Gwynplaine grows up as the laughing man crowds pay to gawk at, and falls in love with a blind girl who cannot see the face the world mocks. From Victor Hugo's novel: a grand melodrama of cruelty, spectacle, and a love that looks past the surface.
Astonishingly expressive for a silent film — swirling, shadow-drenched, and genuinely moving, with an image at its center you will never forget. It plays like horror and lands like heartbreak.
Conrad Veidt, the somnambulist of Caligari, gives one of the silent era's most astonishing performances — acting entirely with his eyes above a rictus held in place by prosthetic dental hooks. The anguish he wrings from a frozen smile remains uncanny nearly a century on.
Paul Leni, a veteran of Germany's great Ufa studio, brought Expressionism to Hollywood and built a swirling Jacobean England of gibbets, palaces, and fairgrounds, all carved from shadow. The makeup design is one of the most influential faces ever put on screen, and the imagery rewards the biggest screen you can find.
Gwynplaine's frozen grin famously inspired the look of the Joker, and the film stands as the high-water mark of German Expressionism transplanted to Hollywood — a bridge between European art cinema and the Universal horror tradition.
Reception & legacy: how The Man Who Laughs was received, argued over, and remembered →
The high-water mark of German Expressionism transplanted to Hollywood. Paul Leni, the Ufa veteran who made Waxworks, was imported by Universal and here adapted Victor Hugo's novel about Gwynplaine, a nobleman's son mutilated in childhood so that his face wears a permanent carnival grin — then raised as a sideshow attraction who falls in love with a blind girl who cannot see what audiences pay to laugh at. Conrad Veidt, the somnambulist of Caligari, gives one of the silent era's most astonishing performances, acting entirely with his eyes above a rictus held in place by prosthetic dental hooks; the anguish he wrings from a frozen smile remains uncanny. Around him Leni builds a swirling, shadow-drenched Jacobean England of gibbets, palaces and fairgrounds. Marketed as horror, it is really a grand romantic melodrama about cruelty and spectacle. Veidt's grin was the acknowledged visual source for the Joker in 1940. Leni died of sepsis the following year, at forty-four, one of cinema's great truncated careers.
Lines of influence