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To a False God My favorite scenes have the real life of black and white, a coarse grain handed down from newsreels, burned buildings, and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari—Werner Krauss’s sad lope, those drooped and sloping shoulders which, seen from the back, are sorrow, caved in like a dying lily, hollow and sweet like a trumpet. “That walk,” said Krauss, “I put it on like an old coat.” A trick then! Like the painted shadows, so I won’t fail to find the real sadness in his small glances and gestures: felt emotions “of which,” Krauss said, “I am not the master.” 49 ...

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